A year ago last
month, Ronald and I saw the mothers of the Black Lives Matter movement at a
restaurant after one of the Clinton rallies. For new readers, I am white and
Ronald is black. We met forty-two years ago when I was 18 and he was 19. I
wanted so much to go over to the mothers’ table and tell them how sorry I was
for their losses and sorry that America failed them, but I am someone who feels
others' pain acutely, and I was already in tears just being in their presence.
I had shed many tears each time I heard about another unarmed black man, woman,
or child murdered at the hands of a racially biased police officer, vigilante,
or white supremacist terrorist, and I've felt the terror of having people treat
us differently, unkindly, and, sometimes, violently because they didn't think
we should be together. I did not want these beautiful women to feel they had to
comfort me, and my husband agreed, so I did not go over. I regretted that
decision, because they deserved to hear my condolences and that their
children's lives mattered.
When we arrived
home, I made a decision. I wanted to contribute to the conversation about race
in America in an even bigger way than writing this blog. So, at age 60, I wrote
my first full-length book, dedicated to the mothers of the movement, about my forty-two-year
journey of learning about race in America. Forty-two years is not long enough,
because we have already proven that 50 years or 150 years is not long enough. As
the months wore on, under the great weight of a Trump-led America, where white
supremacy moved into the White House and flooded mainstream culture, my book
evolved, using posts from this blog—all written about the unjust murders of
unarmed black men— revised, expanded,
and interwoven with my own experiences with racism, ranging from
micro-aggressions to the truly terrifying, and the political landscape and
racist backlash in America.
I am one tiny
voice in the conversation about race that America must have, all of us, together,
where people can put aside their feelings of frailty and of feeling attacked when
talking about racism and inequality, and, instead, listen and ask what we need
to do differently and how can we dismantle this system that benefits some while
disadvantaging others, to create a better tomorrow where equality is an
inherent right.
The book is
published! It is titled To the Mothers of
the Movement, With Love. You can order it here.
I hope, dear
readers, you will join the conversation. I hope you will read my book, and it
will inspire you to talk to your friends and family. Maybe it will give you the
strength to speak out when you witness racial bias. Together, as a country, we can come to
understand that systemic racism is a terrible, oppressive, unfair, and violent
system, and it must be dismantled. Equality is right and
righteous. Don't be silent. Vote for equality. Protest for equality. Take a knee during the anthem for equality. Let the mothers of the movement know that America knows their sons' and daughters' lives mattered.
