MLK, Jr Day
I often stop on Martin Luther King, Jr. day and feel cautious on how I word my celebrating. I don’t want it to sound trite. My family is from rural Alabama. Both my parents went to segregated k12 schooling. I’ve heard the stories, and sometimes even firsthand, the racial slurs against a group of people with a skin color different from mine.
When my momma was a child, she sat in a church service where KKK members came in with their white robes and hoods and stood around the perimeter of the pews making a point to someone in that congregation at the time. She can still vividly describe the fear she felt in that moment, even as a white girl. My daddy tells stories about his German great grandparents that quit speaking German to each other in rural Alabama because of American attitude towards all Germans during Wold War 2. He tells stories of how one night Pa Scheile (his grandfather) sat on the front porch all night with a gun in hand because he was told he would be burned out that night. There was no conflict, thankfully.
As a white woman from a middle class family, I know very little about the type of prejudice that can prevent one from succeeding in life. I know very little about fearing for my life just because of who I am and the color of my skin. I know very little about cycles of poverty and feeling hopeless because of my position in the world I’ve been born into. I’ve never been called names because of the color of my skin or the texture of my hair.
I have a personality that sympathizes deeply with those who have been labeled or attacked by bigotry and bias and I am actually embarrassed by my skin color. But I’m learning that instead, I can use my voice- the voice of a white woman- to acknowledge and sometimes even speak into the injustices I see in my world today. I can break the cycle of generations, even if it wasn’t my own family’s intentional sin.
Today, as I consider MLK, Jr Day, I find myself wondering how to do more to continue to change my country for the better. I find myself asking God not to let me be a part of racial injustice to anyone different from me. I pray God would bring our country together and help us to see how our differences make us better. I pray for the biases I do have (we all have biases). I don’t think my biases have anything to do with color, but by choices of others- I sometimes roll my eyes at the constantly changing world of sexual orientation, of extreme political stances, and even ignorance. Help me to love people that I struggle with in a way that brings you glory and grows me, Lord Jesus.
