By Forrest Alton | For the past 15 years, I’ve worked at a pretty cool (and very safe) office job. Never have I gone to work and feared for my life, a few missed deadlines notwithstanding.
When I say goodbye to my wife every morning, never does she have a thought that I won’t come home. But, I have lots of brothers and sisters who proudly wear the badge. I know from their stories and experiences what they go through, what they see and what they encounter is often dangerous, even life threatening. Their spouses and children likely do sometimes have at least a hint of fear when they say goodbye to them each morning – they don’t just say goodbye, they say “be safe” and “be careful.” I’m grateful for the strong men and women who bear this responsibility. The call “to protect and to serve” is an unbelievable burden.
I’m also a white male, with all the rights and privileges pertaining thereto. Yes, privileges. I’ve never been profiled in a negative way, never experienced systemic racism, never taken a single step in fear of police or others around me. But, I have lots of brothers and sisters who are scared of the world we live in, scared of how they will be treated at work, at the store or simply walking down the street. They wonder if they will be able come home at night, simply because their skin is a different color than mine. They teach their children lessons that I never had to learn, speak about travesties that are hard to believe still exist in 2016, and, yes, do have at least a hint of fear every morning when they step out the door.
When my mother delivered the obligatory “be careful” to a younger me, she meant “don’t do something stupid and hurt yourself.” But this same message my black brothers and sisters received from their parents — and now deliver to their children — surely takes on a completely different meaning. My heart aches knowing that this is true.
Solutions are complex. They will not be found in political talking points and they won’t come easily. That doesn’t mean we should just throw up our hands and walk away. Solutions are rarely found through silence and avoidance. Whether or not we agree on the direct solutions, I hope that we can agree that the status quo is not OK. Whether or not we are touched personally by these recurring tragedies, I hope we can agree that “injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.” Whether or not you personally choose to act, I hope we can agree that silence, nor hashtags, nor tears, nor more prayers are the solutions we seek.
I don’t know the precise solution here. I really don’t. But, silence and turning a blind eye isn’t working for me any longer.
In fact, silence has never served us very well. Flashback to a jail cell in Birmingham, Alabama, April 16, 1963. The words Dr. Martin Luther King (with some minor edits):
“First, I must confess that over the last few years I have been gravely disappointed with the white moderate. I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the (Negro’s) great stumbling block in the stride toward freedom is the white moderate who is more devoted to “order” than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice; who constantly says ‘I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I can’t agree with your methods of direct action;’ who paternalistically feels he can set the timetable for another man’s freedom; who lives by the myth of time… Shallow understanding from people of goodwill is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will. Lukewarm acceptance is much more bewildering than outright rejection…
“In spite of my shattered dreams of the past, (I’m here today) with the hope that the white leadership of this community would see the justice of our cause, and with deep moral concern, serve as the channel through which our just grievances would get to the power structure. I had hoped that each of you would understand. But again I have been disappointed…”
When the history book is written, all I can ask is that I haven’t become the white moderate who knew better, but wasn’t willing to do better. Please let us ALL WORK TOGETHER to find a path forward. Please let us all be part of the solution. Please let us not continue to disappoint.
Forrest Alton is the former CEO of the South Carolina Campaign to Prevent Teen Pregnancy. He has recently launched a consulting firm based in Columbia, S.C., focusing on helping the philanthropic and nonprofit sectors work better together to find solutions and deliver meaningful results. Have a comment? Send to: feedback@statehousereport.com.
We Can Do Better, South Carolina!