I like to read. Anyone who knows me is aware of this. And I like to read lots of different things. Sometimes I am into memoirs. Sometimes romantic suspense. Sometimes non-fiction. Sometimes classics.
Last week I finished reading Little Women by Louisa May Alcott. I thought I had read it when I was younger, but apparently not, because it was not familiar to me at all. I loved it and had a hard time putting it down.
The real reason I read it was because I was told about March by Geraldine Brooks, the story of the girls’ father from Little Women. So of course, the minute I finished Little Women, I picked up March.
Yes, the story is told by another author, so it is her imagination at work, but nevertheless, I am having the same issue with this book – I can’t put it down.
But what is drawing me in more than anything is the fact that Mr. March is an abolitionist whose convictions led him to sign up as a chaplain in the Civil War.
I am only about half-way through the book, but the character of Mr. March in regards to his position on slavery is fascinating and inspiring. Standing up for what he believes is right, even when others disagree, sometimes very harshly; working to help the slaves – whether still in servitude or “freed” (escaped, conscripted to work for a minimal wage for the union – not exactly free); this man not only believed that slavery was wrong, he did what he could to back up that belief and treat all as those who bear the image of God.
Fast forward to today. Yes, slavery is no longer legal. Yes, we have granted rights to people of all skin colors. But have we really moved that much past the time in which fictional Mr. March was living?
I sat in a gathering of Christian women recently, in a breakout session about racism. I was stunned to hear some of the questions that these (white) women had about the issue. When our presenter made a comment about our Constitution being racist, people were shocked and didn’t understand what she meant. When she said that black people could be prejudiced against whites, but not racist because racism implies power and privilege, I could feel the discomfort and lack of understanding in the room.
In the last few years, issues of racism, not just individual but systemic, have once again been brought to the forefront with events like those that happened just down the road from me in Ferguson, Missouri. As far as we have come since President Lincoln and the Emancipation Proclamation, and since Martin Luther King, Jr. and “I Have a Dream,” it is not far enough.
As a white woman, I cannot fully understand the struggles that my black brothers and sisters have to deal with on a daily basis. I don’t have to wonder when my son leaves the house if he will come back home alive. I don’t have to worry that he might get passed over for a job because of the color of his skin. And it breaks my heart that this is the reality in our country.
Issues around race (which is a human construct – not God’s because we were all created as the human race), are complex. They are hard to understand – especially for those who have never had to deal with them. They are even harder to address because of the ways in which they have been built into our country from the beginning. (Remember how when the white Europeans came to this country they kicked the indigenous people off the land they had been living on for years?)
But here’s the thing. Just because it is hard, doesn’t mean it is not worth it. And God has told us over and over in the Bible that we are to be about the business of lifting up the oppressed and downtrodden.
Also at this women’s meeting, a young black woman, Glynis Brooks, came and portrayed the story of Harriet Tubman. It was one of the most amazing things that I had ever seen. The fear, the cruelty, the bravery, and the determination of this woman as she escaped from slavery, and then led others in their escape through the Underground Railroad inspired me and broke my heart all at the same time.
I was asked in the small group gathering about racism why I attended that particular breakout. My answer was this: I can’t know firsthand what my black brothers and sisters experience on a daily basis, but I can listen to their stories, I can educate myself about what they face, I can acknowledge my privilege, I can speak out about the injustice that I see, and I can hopefully help those with the power to change the system to see what I see: that we haven’t come far enough and we have more work to do.