Listening, learning, growing together: Boston talks about racism
It was a beautiful sight. On Saturday morning I was standing on the stage of the Cutler Majestic in the heart of Boston’s Theater District and looking out at the nearly 1,000 Bostonians who had filled its seats. They were every race and ethnicity, every faith and philosophy, every age and gender. They looked like Boston. They looked like America. In uncertain times, they looked like hope.
We were there together for “Boston Talks about Racism,” a town hall meeting to kick off dialogues across the city that will lay the groundwork for a more united, more just, and more resilient city. As I waited to be introduced, I was moved by the vision that this audience presented — and by the noticeable feelings of both anxiety and optimism rising through the air of that grand old theater.
I thought of the many Bostonians who shared their hopes and fears with me on the way to becoming mayor and throughout my first three years on the job. I thought of the historical moment we find ourselves in as a nation, and the fear so many are feeling that America could be moving backwards. I thought of all the things that had to happen to get us ready for this town hall and the dialogues that will follow. I felt something familiar that I decided to share with the audience: “I believe everything happens for a reason.”
I don’t think that’s just something we say after the fact to make sense of hard times. I do believe that life offers us experiences to prepare us for the challenges to come. I spoke of the African-American woman, a retired teacher, who challenged me at a campaign event in Jamaica Plain about my plans to tackle racism in Boston. She made me realize that, no matter how progressive my record was, I had a lot to learn about the issue. Her questioning was uncomfortable for me in the moment, but it set in motion a personal journey and a policy program that has put us in a strong position to respond to the presidential election of November 8, 2016 and the surge in division and outright hate speech that accompanied it nationwide. That night on the campaign happened for a reason. Our partnership with the Rockefeller Foundation on an urban resilience strategy, and our decision to focus that work on social cohesion and racial equity, happened for a reason.
While we’ve been planning these dialogues on race for over two years, they are more timely than we could have known. As I said on Saturday: whether you believe recent events are unprecedented, or you believe it’s just new light on the same old wrongs, the moment calls for a decisive response. What direction national leadership will take us, we can’t be sure. But in Boston, we are not going to go backwards. Martin Luther King Jr. said: “the hottest places in hell are reserved for those who, in a period of moral crisis, maintain their neutrality.”
At this moment in history, Boston will take a stand against racism in our city. We’ll treat this moment as a call to action: to put the safety, the rights, and the equality of everyone in our city at the top of our agenda, every single day; and to go beyond treating the symptoms of inequality, to changing the structures that produce it. We must be a city that creates and re-creates justice in each generation. That’s what real resilience looks like.
When we assert these values, it’s tempting to think of our city as different to others. I’m proud of our progress and our leadership in matters of civil rights. But we are no strangers to inequality, yesterday or today. We are not immune to history. We have our own unique story of struggle with racism and bigotry, from colonial times, to the busing crisis of the 1970s, to this very day.
On Saturday our speakers made that journey come both heartbreakingly and hopefully to life. Chamber of Commerce President Jim Rooney remembered how, as children of an earlier era, we learned to stereotype and name-call those who were different to us. He also made a strong case for why the business community should, and will, help facilitate change. Author Debbie Irving showed how, two generations ago, discriminatory housing policies segregated our neighborhoods in ways that keep us apart and stifle opportunity to this day. I talked about how, despite growing up in a working-class, immigrant household, I took for granted certain kinds of social power that even now I am still learning about from friends of color. Otis Rolley from 100 Resilient Cities thanked us for our revolutionary decision to make social equity the core of our urban resilience strategy. Our Chief Resilience Officer Atyia Martin described the work we’ve done all across the city to move that work forward and get ready for this conversation.
Most powerfully, two young Bostonians told of how racism has affected, and keeps affecting, their young lives.
Kendra Gerald is a 16-year-old from Roxbury and a sophomore at Boston Latin Academy who works for Teen Empowerment and the NAACP. She told of the flawed assumptions and offensive comments she receives because of her biracial background and black identity. “Is this what my white relatives said to my mother about my father?” she wondered. “Is this what the white population thinks about me and other people of color? … I ask all of us to take a step back and open our minds.”
Dante Omorogbe overcame troubled times to become a Teen Empowerment youth organizer who works to uproot racism and its impacts. “Racism affects me on the daily,” said the Dorchester 20-year-old. “Imagine how it feels to constantly try to do something right, but get knocked back down. That feeling pushes people to negativity.” Far from giving in to this frustration, studying the roots of racism has given Dante a new motivation to help his community.
With immense poise and insight, these two young people reflected the abilities, the aspirations, and the frustrations that run throughout the youth of our city. When Kendra and Dante spoke with such raw force, it gave all of us more confidence to share and more empathy to listen. That’s how I hope our dialogues will work.
When audience members took to the microphone, the emotions stayed real and the insights sharp. We heard from black, Latino, Asian, and white Bostonians, men and women, younger and older, experts and everyday folks. We were reminded that every racial or ethnic community is itself a diverse mixture of backgrounds, experiences, and classes.
If I could sum up the day in one line, I would borrow it from Dante. When he spoke of his teenage struggles, he said he felt trapped in a stereotyped identity by forces beyond his control. But then he added: “This is not where my story begins, nor is it where my story ends.”
That’s how I feel about Boston and our dialogues on race. We can’t change America’s history. We can’t erase our past experiences and mistakes. We can’t change the election. But that’s not where our story begins, and it’s not where our story ends. As we share, listen, and learn from one another, together we will tell and live the story of an ever-more united, just, and resilient city, no matter what comes.
Thanks as always,
Marty
P.S.: To sign up for updates, learn how you can get involved in race dialogues, or view the blueprint of our resilience strategy, visit our Office of Resilience and Racial Equity, e-mail bostonresilience@boston.gov, or follow on Twitter at @BOSResilience.
An adapted version of this post was published in the Boston Herald.
