Monday night. The dinner table. In Baltimore.

For the most part, I have been silent and (in all honesty) steered clear of the conversations surrounding the racial climate of our nation over the last few years. I just have been. It’s really heartbreaking to even admit.

But, over the last few days it has been different. You see, all that is happening surround Freddie Gray’s death has hit so close to home for me. Literally. I have been in Baltimore at my brother’s house since Sunday. The pain, unrest, fighting, constant media coverage and strong language has been difficult to stomach. Especially last night.

My nieces and nephew came home from school yesterday just as the peaceful protests because violent and destructive. TV News coverage and social media started to erupt. And, sad to say, I did what I usually do when this stuff happens. I shake my head, and say “it’s so sad” or “it doesn’t have to be this way”.  And more than anything, I distance myself. Then, just as I was allowing my heart to become hard once again, one of my nieces started to read the tweets that her friends were posting about those that were rioting last night…

“these people are terrorists”

“next time a cop does something bad, pull up the videos of these animals ruining Baltimore and tell me who was in the wrong”

“they should be shot with rubber bullets and have their hands cut off”

As she read these to us, I was shocked. So sad. And hurt for her...for us all. It was the look on her face. It was hearing the hurt in her voice. And then she said “…and they are supposed to be my friends”. Ugh. Visibly, it was getting to all of us. We tried to make sense of what was happening on TV and what her friends at school were saying. Dehumanizing those that were rioting because they were black. So hurtful. 

Then, a few memories came up for me…

I was 16.  I got a new car for my birthday. As I was leaving school, a group of guys waved a confederate flag in front of my car as I pulled out of the school parking lot. I was crushed. I sobbed the entire way home.  

I was 22 and working in Nashville, a lady that worked at a supermarket (in Brentwood, mind you) followed me out of a store because she suspected that I stole something.  Needless to say I went back inside and had some words with her. I was irate. 

I’ve been the token black person. I have been the diverse face. I have had people say “wow, you are so articulate”—as if I shouldn’t be. It’s hurtful, and until yesterday… it was buried. Deep. Way down. (((AND Don’t get me wrong—it is not in the SAME vicinity as what others have experienced, but it hurt. That’s all I’m saying.)))

Going back to the dinner table last night... it felt like a teeny, tiny bit of what I was seeing on TV was now, in fact, right here. In the kitchen. At the table.  Call it trivial if you want to, but I can tell you that it wasn’t. And as the night went on, my niece (who is AMAZING!) sent an email to the dean of her school expressing the discomfort and hurt she was feeling—while encouraging her fellow students’ rights to freedom of speech. She was respectful while being direct and honest…and her actions challenged me so much. I started to look at myself…

Would I have done that when I was her age? Nope. But, WHY NOT, Nandi?????

Fast forward. Over the course of today, I have done some digging in my own heart and some praying too. Thinking about what my niece did, and praying that the Lord would show me what this means practically for me… and maybe for those of us that want to engage in this. I mean, the Church and those that profess to be Christians play such a vital role in leading the way in these conversations of racial tension and the road to relational reconciliation…. But, how???

Lets start with what the answer is not :) I will use my own mistakes as examples….

The answer is not to turn off the TV and wait for it to blow over. The answer is not to JUST send up a few prayers before bed… YES, we must pray, but fervently and with intention for action. The answer is not to just huddle in a corner with those that fuel the fire towards more talk and no action. The answer is not to use separatist language when talking behind closed doors.

I have done ALLLLLLL of these things listed above. Every. Single. One. It is sad to say it, but I have. Out of my own selfishness, pride, desire for self preservation and fear of what others would think about me, I have remained unmoved by the more controversial social issues facing our generation. I have not just passed the baton, I have left it in its place. Ethereally, leaving it to “other people” to do something…(and who are those other people, Nandi??!! Ugh)

The digging and praying and such lead to a few things that came up in my heart.…

Shrink your world, Nandi: To change the world is daunting…no?? Yes. It is. I felt challenged today to make my world smaller. And, in doing so… engage my friends and family in fruitful conversations regarding prejudice, violence, race relations and other issues of social justice and equality on all fronts—especially those issues that don’t fit in a box and are considered taboo.

Seek to understand, don’t seek to be understood, Nandi: Conversations of this type are few and far between. Open, honest, loving conversations between those that have mutual respect for one another is of utmost importance—specifically those from different economic and racial backgrounds. Until now, I haven’t wanted to understand. Really, I have just wanted to get my point across. The Lord has opened my heart… I want to understand.  

It starts in the home, Nandi: What those kids said on twitter last night was from their parents.  It was.I was like that when I was their age too. Kids are parrots. Now, I am not a parent… but, I can tell you that what you talk about, or don’t talk about, at home speaks VOLUMES. It does. If you don’t talk about it and address racial prejudice and the like… where will they get their answers from? Lets not even go there. Lets just say it won’t be good.

OKAY…. NOW, I am going to go THERE (you know that place you shouldn’t go to, but have to go to… I am going there!)… Both Blacks and Whites have to make some changes at home when dealing specifically with the issue at hand…. TALK about these things at the dinner table, come up with practical solutions for conflict resolution, encourage your kids to use their voices at school and in other social settings aimed at mutual understanding and love.

As a parent, if you really have a heart to see change, create a space for your kids to continue to talk about social injustice, specifically those that are so divisive in our generation. Let them come to you, as parents, to voice their frustrations and ask questions. If you don’t know the answer, that is okay. It is! Just don’t give up… lean in. The home is so important…make it a safe place to talk. As awkward and difficult as it sounds, just do it. You might be surprised what you do or don’t hear. ((I don't profess to know anything about parenting... but, this is something that dropped in my heart and I felt like I needed to share! Just FYI!) 

These aren't the only answers, by any means! But, they are three things that came up so strongly as I looked at MYSELF over the course of today :) 

Whew. That was a long one… but, that’s okay because I had a lot to say I guess!

And, I want to also put it out there (for anyone that actually read this far), that if you are reading this and have questions and want to engage in thoughtful exchange about any of this, I would LOVE THAT! I really would. And, if I don’t know something… I will prayerfully seek out answers and do the best I can.

Thanks for listening. I pray that God would help me in all of this. 

Journeying onward,

Nandi

PS…my niece was just elected as the VP of Diversity at her school for the next calendar year! I am so PROUD of her for stepping into a space that can make a real difference. Even if one person is challenged, like I was, it will be such a successful year :)