It’s been a while since my last post. To say a whole lot has been going on in the world would be an understatement. And to those of you who reached out to me asking that I share my thoughts about the current state of world affairs, I apologize for being absent.
To paraphrase Dr. Dre (who should not be confused with the plethora of doctors we’ve grown tired of hearing talk about COVID-19 over the past few months), “I’ve been in the lab with a pen and a pad trying to get this label off.” Seriously, although I have not actually been in a lab, I have been working on a bunch of ways to serve parents, children, and humanity better. But more about what I have been doing with my pen and a pad at another time.
I Appreciate You, S.K.
For now, I would like to share my experience with the recent protests. Specifically, I want to share a text and then phone call I received on Sunday. The gentleman who I will merely reference as S.K. sent me the following text:
S.K. – “What’s up, Nate. I’m thinking of you and Naeem.”
Me – “Hey, my brother! Great to hear from you. I hope you and yours are in good health and high spirits. Naeem and I are both excellent. He’s been home for almost two months, sheltering in place with his parents. Just another day in paradise!”
S.K. – “I hear you, man. I’m thinking more in terms of how you guys are feeling with all this social injustice. I feel like I have failed you guys. I always cared, but after a day or two, I went back to living my privileged life.
Me – “Can I call you?”
His words were profound and straightforward. I petitioned him to chat over the phone as his concerned text query deserved more than a usual phone keyboard response.
We spoke for about an hour, mostly about the murder of George Floyd and a little about the Central Park incident with Amy Cooper. He asked if my son or I had any similar experiences to that of George Floyd. My response was typical of the response African American men have shared, which have fallen on deaf ears for years. “Yes,” I said, “I have had way too many similar confrontational experiences with police that I care to remember.”
Just to Give a Few Examples
Regrettably, I didn’t need to see the video of George Floyd dying to increase my anxiety level about the potential to be a victim of police misconduct. Outside of the handful of police officers I knew personally as a child, I’ve always felt anxious about the relationship police have with my community.
What’s going on today with the police and humans isn’t unusual. However, what is extraordinary is that even with video cameras, the police behavior hasn’t changed; it only seems to have gotten worse. As I referenced, my life is replete with similar confrontational police experiences.
For instance, while visiting my son in Pittsburg last fall, an officer unholstered his weapon when approaching my vehicle for a purported routine traffic stop. It’s also not unusual for a police officer to follow me for miles while driving home from my office.
One evening, a police officer detained my wife and me for allegedly fitting the description of two six feet plus Black men involved in a bar fight. (FYI: my wife is 4’11” woman). In college, an officer drew his weapon, handcuffed, and then interrogated me shining a flashlight in my face for hours for allegedly stealing four milk crates.
And in law school, eight-plus local police squad cars stopped and surrounded my State Trooper friend and me – each officer drawing and pointing their guns at us because, according to one of the local officers, “we didn’t look like the police.”
I could go on and on, but what is the point. Such is my experience with police in America. To keep from losing my mind, I flippantly call this the ‘thin blue line tax’ I pay for driving, walking, and sometimes for merely breathing while Black.
On too many occasions, I know that the only thing that differs from George Floyd and me is that I was lucky. I was just fortunate enough to make it home. I was able to keep breathing.
What Can Humanitarians Do?
At the close of our conversation, he asked what he, as a White man could do to be a better ally to the plight and condition of African Americans. I paused because his question deserved a thoughtful response, something much more reflective and meaningful than what I believe are most of the kneejerk non-nuanced dialogues masquerading as answers to this Nation and planet’s deeply embedded problems.
I promised him that I would contact him later with a well thought out reply. Yet, for now, I asked him to do two things that I hope every parent will also do and do so with a greater sense of urgency and commitment: 1) raise children who see differences joyfully and 2) nurture children to respect humanity equally.
Can You See All the Colors in the Rainbow?
We are all different, and yet the same. The greatness of humanity lies in our differences: race, national origin, gender, religion, sexual orientation, disability, and the like. Pretending not to see differences robs us of the grand design of our eyes.
The gift of sight offers us an opportunity to enjoy the richness that is humanity in all forms. Imagining not to see differences is to pretend that a rainbow is only one color.
A rainbow would not be a rainbow with one color; it would merely be a strange streak in the sky after a storm. Without multiple colors, there would be no reason to celebrate the opportunity of renewal the rainbow symbolizes. No one would revere much less adore a rainbow if it were composed of only one color.
Humanity as a Rainbow
Humanity is no different than the rainbow. Humanity would not be humanity if everyone were the same. So, I would implore you as I asked S.K. to raise his children to welcome differences joyfully.
Raise children who revere and adore people who are different just as we do the sight of a rainbow. Raise children who might finally allow us to renew and live out the declarations and proclamations of this Nation.
And Then There Was Two
Second, we need all parents to raise children who respect humanity equally. Simply put, moms and dads, it is no longer enough for you to say that you believe all people are equal, you must live your assertions in word and deed.
It is time all parents and adults alike take an assessment of who we genuinely are; to take inventory of our lives to see if what we profess matches our daily actions. It is time to find out if we are who we think we are for real.
Central Park
Amy Cooper alleged that she was not racist; she continues to maintain that she is not. But the moment she could not get her way, the second another human asked her to do what humans agreed they would do to care for the Park, she went from being the best of us to the worst of us faster than a Tesla Roadster goes from zero to sixty. In less than 1.9 seconds, she went from behaving like Mother Teresa to acting as the Grand Wizard of the Klu Klux Klan.
Even though Amy Cooper is not a national abnormality, we act as though she is. Few people in the media, around the Zoom office watercoolers or in other places throughout the country, are talking about the significance of Ms. Cooper’s actions.
For me, Amy Cooper represents many Americans, in particular, those who, when finding themselves in an uncomfortable situation, behave just as she did if not more egregiously. Some call her behavior an example of acting out of character; I believe we should call it a case of ‘acting on one’s character.’
Diamonds and Pipes
Discomfort is like pressure. There is a saying about ‘pressure’ you may know. Pressure either bust pipes or makes diamonds. In the case of Amy Cooper and so many others like her, when facing even a teeny tiny amount of discomfort, they burst like pipes rather than shine like diamonds.
Ms. Cooper’s burst was an outrageous act. In this case, an action that could have very quickly resulted in a human’s death (see Emmitt Till). Sadly, as expected, only later after being exposed for devaluing the life of another human, busted pipes, like Ms. Cooper, take to social media to claim they are not to a racist, to argue that they do not see color, and of course, to maintain that they have ‘a’ friend from the offended marginalized group.
I do not know if Amy Cooper is a racist. Yet, I do believe her actions were appalling transgressions against humanity. I do know that Amy Cooper is not an anomaly but rather a living and breathing symbol of far too many Americans.
Dr. King said, “The ultimate tragedy is not the oppression and cruelty by the bad people but the silence over that by the good people.” I believe Dr. King was only partially correct. The ultimate tragedy is not the mere silence of the good people; the ultimate tragedy is the ease in which good people deliberately switch sides, change masks, and become bad people.
America loves to talk about issues like white supremacy. Still, America’s more significant problem is that everyday people like Amy Cooper burst when under the least amount of pressure going from the best of us to the worst of us in less time than it takes to dial 9-1-1.
Limits to BFFs
Thus, in accord with respecting all humanity, I would ask us to do one extra thing. My plea is that we all carve out a moment to examine who we spend our time with because birds of a feather do indeed flock together.
According, to Dunbar’s Number, we spend 40% of our time and energy in relationships with five people and 20% of our time and energy in relationships with ten additional people. Thus, if Dr. Dunbar’s research is accurate, who we are is comprised mostly of the fifteen people we interact with on an everyday basis.
Who, then, are the fifteen people you interact with most each day and week? Who do you speak to from a different demographic group that is something more than ritualized acknowledgments? Name the people from different demographic groups that you have lengthy substantive exchanges with about things that matter most to them? Who do you engage with from another demographic group that goes beyond surface-level conversations, discussions that get right to the heart of the emotional wellbeing of that person and the demographic they represent?
Now ask and answer the questions truthfully. And ‘shame the devil as my elders used to say’ if you must.
Do those fifteen people form a network of friends who look like the rainbow that is America? Or are you associated primarily with those who would make your rainbow look like a homogenous bland streak?
Final Thoughts
If this Nation ever hopes to be better, you, I, and our children must intentionally seek out authentic and time-consuming, heartfelt relationships with people who not only look like us but match the demographic makeup of this Nation.
If we never want again to have another situation like Amy Cooper or experience the repercussions associated with senseless deaths to people like George Floyd and countless others, we better start treating every human accordingly as an essential element of our planet’s beautiful rainbow.
[…] I mentioned in last week’s post, I would continue sharing things children and parents could be doing at times, such as these. In […]