Please do more than pray…
Responding to police shootings and recent tragedies
“You are in my heart”
“I’m thinking of you”
“You’re in my thoughts and prayers”
These are some of the common responses to news of police shootings of black men. Those of us who are fortunate enough to be bystanders of these tragedies, rather than victims, are often pulled to respond to the black community in some way. We want to speak out in response, to say something, anything, to show solidarity, to let the world know that we care. We want to help, we want to show others they are not alone, and so we say these things:
“You are in my heart”
“I’m thinking of you”
“You’re in my thoughts and prayers”
Today I ask you — please don’t stop there. Please do more than pray.
Before I go on — I am not here to criticize your religious beliefs or philosophical views. I am not asking you to stop praying for people who are suffering, or prevent you from keeping them in your thoughts. I am not asking you to stop believing (or to start, if you are not a person of a faith). Please don’t think I’m trying to steer you from your beliefs or faith. This is not my intention. I pray sometimes, too.
But prayer is not enough. (If you are not religious, mourning for someone or keeping them in your thoughts is not enough).
Prayer has its place in the world — it can bring you closer to your religion or God, make you feel connected with the world, bring you hope, and perhaps most importantly, restore your faith in the universe just a little bit. I respect the act, and I respect the intention behind it. (Likewise, I respect the act of simply mourning or thinking of someone, if you are not religious).
When times are dark, it can often feel like the only thing we can do is hope or pray. When we want things to change but situations feel too far from our own control, we turn to hope and prayer. We ask for help, and we trust that help will come. Prayer allows us to feel that we have done something, when all else seems out of our control. Prayer is cathartic. It brings hope to the world — and the world could really use some hope these days.
But prayer on its own shifts responsibility from you to God. Hope on its own shifts responsibility from you to the universe. Trust on its own shifts responsibility from you to society. Prayer, hope, faith, and trust are magnificent things, but on their own, they absolve us from taking responsibility for the things we can control — our perceptions, our actions, our words, our reactions.
Again, I’m not asking you to stop praying or hoping. But I am asking that you don’t stop there.
Don’t end your involvement when you’ve finished praying. Don’t absolve yourself of action when you’ve hoped or mourned for long enough. Don’t wipe your hands of responsibility and leave the rest to fate, God, or time. When you are done grieving, praying, hoping, feeling, whatever you need to do, don’t just go about your day as if there’s nothing more for you to do. You have more to do on this Earth. You can do more on this Earth.
Don’t give up because you may not be able to fix a societal problem on a large scale. You alone may not be able to end violence single-handedly. You alone may not be able to change the minds of politicians, eradicate racism, or change legislature. But what you can do is look inwards.
You don’t need to fix the world — focus on yourself first. Critically examine how your own beliefs may be contributing to a culture that enables violence and racism. Look inwards, and honestly evaluate your thoughts, behaviors, language, beliefs, privileges, and prejudices. Take responsibility and ask the uncomfortable questions:
“What assumptions do I make about a black person when we cross paths on the street?”
“How does my privilege affect my interactions with strangers? With the police? With the legal system?”
“Am I staying out of conversations about race because I’m uncomfortable as a person of privilege? What does my silence enable? What am I allowing to happen by not speaking up?”
Challenge yourself, probe at your own thoughts and behaviors. In what ways might you be contributing to the culture of violence? Are you making an effort to educate yourself on how to be part of the conversation? Are you staying silent when friends or family members make assumptions about others or dismiss the issue altogether? Can you put aside defensiveness and ego to identify your own privileges? How might you be a better ally to those who need you to stand with them?
Again, I am not discounting the power of prayer or faith. Take care of yourself. Pray, hope, trust, grieve, mourn, think, process. You have the right to do these things, and you should do these things.
But when you’re done, don’t wipe your hands just yet. Take responsibility to look inwards and challenge yourself to understand the impact of your own thoughts. You alone might not be able to put out the fire, but you can learn to identify when you’re throwing brush into the flames.