Racism terrifies me

I am reading The Sign of the Beaver (by Elizabeth George Speare) to my boys for Language Arts. It's about a young boy named Matt, set in pioneer days, who is left alone in his family's log cabin while his dad goes east to collect his mother and sister. While waiting for his family to return, he comes into contact with a native man and his grandson, Attean. Through a series of events, it comes to light that the older man wants Matt to teach Attean to read. Here is a snippet:

"Attean learn," he said. "White man come more and more to (our) land. White man not make treaty with pipe. White man make signs on paper, signs (we) not know. (We) put mark on paper to show him friend of white man. Then white man take land. Tell (us we) cannot hunt on land. Attean learn to read white man's signs. Attean not give away hunting grounds."

And then, while Matt is teaching Attean to read by reading to him from the book Robinson Crusoe, they come to a part where a white man rescues a native man. The native man then proceeds to kneel down to the white man in gratitude. Attean interrupts:

"NO!" he shouted. "Not so."
Matt stopped, bewildered.
"Never kneel down to a white man!" said Attean.
"But Crusoe had saved his life."
"Not kneel down," Attean repeated fiercely. "Not be slave. Better die." 

He then leaves and Matt is left with his thoughts.

He had never questioned that story. Like Robinson Crusoe, he had thought it natural and right that the wild man should be the white man's slave. Was there perhaps another possibility? The thought was new and troubling.

And that, my friends, in a nutshell, is what is wrong with our history as white people. We thought we were so superior. We misunderstood any living soul who looked differently than us, ate differently, had different customs. We thought we were the ones who had the right to take their land, to choose not to really see these beautiful people.

Down through history this has always been the case. White men being afraid of 'different' and lashing out, wreaking havoc on endless souls. It really hit home to me today, reading this book with my kids. Not only with the natives in both Canada and the US, but also with the slave trade of the blacks in the states. It's just unspeakable what people of my skin colour have done to others out of a sense of superiority. It is truly evil. An evil straight from the pit of hell.

It's so easy for us to think, "Oh that happened hundreds of years ago, but now everything is okay." Thinking like that is a shield because the alternative is terrifying. It's terrifying to imagine that people might still feel hatred towards others. But the other day it came to my attention that a popular white blogger was being harassed on Twitter because she posted a picture of her black son. The hatred that was spewing from these internet trolls, directed at her and her precious child was unbelievable to me. It didn't seem like real life. But it was.

I was reminded by my brother tonight that it also isn't just the open attack (although I wouldn't call sending tweets open; rather it's pretty cowardly to sit behind a screen and insult someone) that is horrifying, but also the underhanded, less obvious mentality that is so pervasive. He shared this quote with me: "Racism doesn't usually look like someone shouting slurs, (it) looks like people eagerly looking for a reason why a black kid deserved to die." - Lou Schumaker. It looks like cops killing children and getting let off the hook. It looks like people not caring that a mother goes to bed at night not knowing if her son will be next. It looks like a blind eye turned, a deaf ear, a cold shoulder. It looks like choosing not to know.

And I'm scared. I'm so utterly scared and horrified that we still live in a world with such hatred. I am devastated to think that maybe racism has not gone anywhere but is still alive and even thriving. There are people out there with hate in their hearts so vicious that they will attack a child with their words and their weapons. My mind cannot comprehend it. I can't begin to understand a world that tears down rather than lifts up. A system that finds fault with how someone lives rather than extending the hand of compassion.

What can I do about it though? It feels too big and overwhelming. And really, there is probably nothing we really can do. We can't change the hatefulness in so many hearts. If we want change though, it needs to begin with us. I can teach my children to love others. I can teach them the history of racism and hatred in our culture, teach them about how the white men stole the natives' land. How white men were so afraid of 'different' that they killed and hurt and destroyed. I can teach them about black history and the slave trade and abolition, about Rosa Parks and Martin Luther King Jr and making sure we don't forget these warriors. We have lots of conversations about not judging others based on appearance. I try to teach them to live by this quote, "Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle." (This quote is attributed to Plato but it is not certain.) I teach them how Jesus said the greatest commandment is to love God and love your neighbour. I don't know if it sinks in or not. I hope it does. I hope that they can learn to see others through God's eyes, to see their beauty. I want them to see that each soul who graces this planet is deeply precious and loved by God.

It's not enough, I know it. I don't know what the answers are, really. I do believe, with all my heart, that one day God will set things to right and will bring justice to everyone who has ever been wronged. For now though, I'm hoping that at least keeping my head out of the sand and teaching my kids to do the same, might be a small start.