A PROVOCATIVE ACT

One thing they DID teach us in history, along with all they did NOT, was the history of the lunch counter sit-ins. Somehow that was an almost "nice" part of the Civil Rights movement, along with Dr. King, his eloquent speeches, and the peaceful demonstrations he led.

But anyone who took the time to dig even a little deeper knows full well that even the lunch counter sit-ins had an ugly, vile, side to them. Whites were allowed to taunt, torment, and abuse those who sat patiently. And it was not only black students who sat. Many of these demonstrations were mixed-race, where whites supporters sat with black students, taking their punishment, which may at times have even been more harsh.

Here is one description of some of these events:


Lunch Counter Sit-Ins

I've been mindful of this lately, as we've struggled at the congregation I serve in New Jersey with the decision to post a sign that says, simply BLACK LIVES MATTER, by our own church sign on the road in front of our property, and, as over the succeeding two weeks, we have been the recipients of hateful, spiteful and even threatening calls, emails, and facebook posts, an outpouring shocking both in relation to the percieved "offense" (after all, this is America and we have free speech?) as well as in relation to the location.

When I visited the local AME congregation here in Springfield, KY, a place I've worshipped before, and told the (woman) pastor, she was visibly surprised: "In New Jersey?" she repaeated several times. "I just can not believe it."

Well, believe it, everyone. It's true. And even though we have determined that the majority of facebook posts came from outside the local area, and even from out-of-state, most were from states north of the Mason Dixon line. And, I don't think that whoever took it upon themselves to spray paint over our sign came here from Indiana or Michigan to do so. No, we live amongst racists. We need to look around now, with new vision, vision that has been clouded and confounded too long.

There is much to do. 

I'm reading a book called Devil in the Grove. It's a story about the early days of Thurgood Marshall's career and a horrifying case of injustice in Florida. It makes me realize all that our sisters and brothers of color have lived with and dealt with day by day, year by year, in this country. And it makes me realize how little we have acknowledged it. 

Hence I propose that putting a sign up that says BLACK LIVES MATTER is an act like sitting at a whites-only lunch counter, although we may not have intended it to be. It is a provocative act. Like those who sat at the counters, we may not leave it there for ever. It has to be followed now by meaningful, courageous work. I simply pray that the import, not of the sign, but of the backlash, will not be lost upon all of us.

Gaslighting of the Movement & Non-Violent Resistance in the Virtual World

In the days that followed the ceremony and the hanging of our "Black Lives Matter" sign, I waited each morning for the call to come: The sign has been stolen. The sign has been destroyed. The sign has been vandalized. This, because probably about half of the signs that have been hung, or posted at UU congregations, have been stolen, ruined, or painted over, by vandals.

But not just any vandals. Vandals with a specific, malicious purpose. Vandals with the energy and focus and the ill will and intent to get up early in the morning, park their car where it won't be noticed, and apply spray paint, all the while crouching and hiding along a busy road, to our nearly $400 double- sided sign.

To turn the words "Black Lives Matter" into "All Lives Matter."

So when I heard about the vandalism, a mere ten days after the ceremony to install our sign, I was sad but not surprised. I had been meeting with a man whose cancer had returned, and talking about deeper things. Talking about life, death, family, and love. His love for the world, and for another friend, whom he will eulogize next week.

Shortly after that meeting, I had to prepare to return to Kentucky to spend the Labor Day weekend with my family. Stopping along the way to field calls from TV, radio, and newspaper reporters about the damage, as well as congregational leaders about the decision to re-hang the sign when we realized it could not be repaired, it took me 5 hours longer than usual to travel home.

I had plenty of time to ruminate upon what had happened, what was happening, how I and the congregation had responded, would respond, and what it all meant.

The war on Black Lives Matter has had a two-pronged front, and neither have validity. One purports that the movement is "Anti-Police" and must be stopped. The danger here is not so much the ignorant and ill-informed citizens that believe it as it is the pundits, politicians, and media moguls who are perpetrating this notion. The reality is that a better-trained, more well-informed law enforcment and judicial system and citizenry will benefit our officers as well as criminals and unarmed citizens. the reality is that people want to shut down this dialogue because they fear facing the facts about over-policing, police brutality, and unwarranted killing of not only Black citizens, but citizens of all backgrounds. Because the facts are incredibly disturbing, and demand change. Because people fear and resist change.

The second prong of this attack is the idea that Black Lives Matter is "racist" because "All Lives Matter," and so somehow it is wrong to focus on only Black ones. The absurdity of this argument is so blatant that I don't even want to spend time on it. Somehow, I prefer the anti-police argument, because there I can see the line of reasoning, the fear that exists for officers of the peace, the difficult decisions they have to make, the anxiety their loved ones face, and I can extend my compassion to understand the defensive and angry reactions they or their families might have to "Black Lives Matter."

But these people, goaded on by the politicians and the commentators who irresponsibly feed their anger, are actually dangerous. We are heading into a time where the simple and legitimate request for the grievances of the Black (and yes, Brown) community to be addressed is at a crisis point, and what we are seeing is an attempt to stifle it, tamp it down, shut off all avenues of dialogue.

Unitarian Universalists aren't going to allow that. When the rubber hits the road, we will be there. I know this about my fellow people of the liberal faith. We are going to hold the line. We are the people of reason and we are the people of justice and courage.

So my own act of non-violent non-resistance right now, is to keep on preaching, keep on reaching, keep on speaking, keep on hanging up the sign, keep teaching, and not be delayed. deterred, distracted, depressed, demeaned, or detoured by these voices of hate and untruth.... be they on Facebook, with spray paint, in comments on the articles, or on the radio. I don't answer them, and for the most part, I don't read them.


Truth does have a way. The sign is back up.

TAKING IT TO THE STREETS

Over the past three weeks, I have had adequate time to reflect upon three words. Black. Lives. Matter. Since I am a "word person," an English major, a writer, a preacher, and a reader, words are my tools. They are my weapons at times, my children sometimes, and my companions. It is words that have opened my mind, and words that have helped me to be of service to others.

I think we knew that posting a sign that read Black Lives Matter  on the road in front of our church's property was a big decision. We prepared for months, explaining it to the congregation through various venues. I preached on it numerous times.


We had a ceremony on Sunday, August 23, to dedicate the sign. It was a beautiful day, and a beautiful ceremony. Singing. Holding hands. Tears.

Some things happened that day that I suspect will remain in my memory for the rest of my days. When I told the minister of the nearest AME congregation about our decision to post the sign, she said that she would come, and support us. As it turned out, those friends who came from St. Paul AME were not the only persons of color who showed up. We do have, now 4 families and individuals who are African American.. they were there, and brought family, and a Community Organizer from Atlantic City came, bringing a Black minister. Another minister we had met in our community work showed up too, just as the ceremony was ending.

But it was actually a few unplanned things that stand out for me: first, one of our members offered to sing. She sang, "A Change is Gonna Come," and that was how we opened the service. Her singing was radiant. It brought everyone into the shared space, hearts and minds. Then, I had asked our Board President, Art Wexler, to say a few words. Art is a recently retired administrator of a Community College. He is quiet and unassuming, but wise and direct. He started to speak, and then he said, "One more thing: Michael Brown's life.. mattered. Freddie Gray's life.. mattered. Eric Garner's life mattered." He mentioned a few others. But then he continued, "Emmett Till's life mattered. Medgar Evars' life mattered. These killings we have seen this year are abominations.." During his words, I heard the softly whispered chorus of "Yes," and "Amen," from the Black attendees. That's when tears filled my eyes. But it was not until hours later, driving home, that the full impact of what Art had dne with those few words hit me, and I shook with sobs. He had been, in a sense saying the Jewish prayer of mourning, the Kaddish, and raising the importance of these deaths (ehich until that moment hadn't been mentioned that day) to the same level as those historic, history-making ones. You see, Art grew up in a Jewish household, but he also attended an historically black college, so even though he is quiet, and reitiring, he has a wealth of thought, and just the right words. I can only begin to imagine how hearing those words from a white male in a position of power must have felt to our guests. Words.

These people were with us because we have been building relationships. We have started to attend walks in Atlantic City organized by the Police Department; we have been helping at a food bank, also in Atlantic City; and we sent flowers to St. Paul AME after the murders in Charleston.

But creating relationships where trust and goodwill are present takes time, effort and wisdom. I feel as if my own preconceptions are being challenged every day. Talking with police officers, especially officers who are persons of color, about their work, the dangers, the decisions they have to make, how they feel about the Black Lives Matter movement, is a bit scary but so important.

Each time I leave Atlantic City, I feel as if I am being born to some entirely new understanding of my life, my world, my childhood, and my past. The words, "Atlantic City" meant nothing to me except "boardwalk," "Miss America," and, later, "casinos." Although I lived a bit over an hour away, I probably went to Atlantic City three times. But I didn't go to the city. It never even crossed my mind that here is a place, a residence, a city inhabited primarily by people of color. 

map showing racial makeup of Jersey shore area, including Atlantic City

Green area is AC (Black residents) Blue =white residents

People who went there to work in hotels, casinos, and in many cases were born there because their parents worked there. There are schools, neighborhoods, gangs, and lots of children. There is hunger, joy, addiction, beauty, love, and renewal. These are my fellow citizens of New Jersey. I love getting to meet them at the food bank, and exhanging a few words. These words, I feel, are like gems. It matters  what I say. Many times, they brighten my day even more than I do theirs. They are survivors. They matter.

You don't have to go far inland to find some of the most virulent hate groups this land has to offer. Right here in South Jersey. Indeed. I was told, the week before we posted the sign, that a "convoy" of these trucks had driven through the towns near our church, including the one we are located in. SPLC (Southern Poverty Law Center) lists 18 hate groups in New Jersey, far more than in Kentucky. I took this picture of two in Manahawkin, near Long Beach Island. What I continue to contemplate every day is the distance I am traversing, short in miles, and yet light years in experience, opportunity, economy, accessibilty, I have taken for granted. This is white privilege. By posting the banner, by wearing the pin, or the wristband, by doing the work of building relationships, I am unlearning white privilege. And there are moments when I simply can not believe it. What it takes to maintain this.

Here's a death threat one of my colleagues recieved on our Facebook page. These people are out there. As soon as the story of our banner and the dedication appeared in the Atlantic City Press, we were bombarded with posts attacking us for the banner. Many of them just said, "All Lives Matter" over and over. But many were far worse, cursing our church, calling us racist, cop-haters, evil, and lots of other things. They've begun to simmer down, but I feel certain that this war of words is going on everywhere, all over the Internet, and that very few people are being convinced either way. I also recognize that many of these people are women. They are angry and vile, and I can't help thinking of the women who stood out in front at the Civil Rights protests, their faces contorted with hate:

After a while, I decided to find out where these people lived. They live all over the country (by the way, almost none in the South, but some in Texas), but only 1 or 2 in New Jersey. This was so helpful. It made me realize that while our immediate neighbors might  be the KKK members or the Confederate flag truck-people, they weren't the ones on Facebook. Maybe they will just chalk our sign up to another thing those liberals are doing, and leave us alone.

But some members of our congregation don't agree. They feel we need to ramp up our security, and that is happening. Three words. Three little words that should be self-evident. I look ahead and wonder, what will our children say about this time? "Why did people attack others for saying 'Black Lives Matter?' " "Was it that bad?"

Well, yes, it is that bad. That's why we have to say it, and go on saying it, despite the threats, the taunts, the vile, ugly attacks. Because the opposite of Black Lives Matter is not "All lives matter." It is "Black lives don't matter." That is being shown to us in countless ways. And attacks on the sign, and on the words, are one more way.