This year, we have possessed front row seats to Hatred, Disguised as Love. Passionate individuals and groups, have taken shelter in their causes, and used Gorilla War like tactics to inflict pain and terror on innocent people.
Each time, we take a breath, caught in the emotional storm on display. The sirens blare in concert with the cries and screams of those who have been injured and have lost loved ones, while lens of the camera paints vivid scenes in HD.
The incidents in San Bernadino have again struck a chord in the hearts of America, but sadly, the chord while be a measure as opposed to a sustained chord. We will find ourselves watching the next media’s presentation, as though watching a series of movies at a film festival.
Yet, what I am writing about is not the loss of life or the hatred displayed by individuals and groups, but the hatred is discussed but not addressed. The shootings in Paris, that fell on the heels of the shootings in Africa, again placed a microscope on a continued reality which serves as our national anthem, Racism.
The racism we experience is not your typical brand of hatred, it is on that is fueled by greed, and propped up on every side by selfish behavior and intentions. It serves as the blanket that tucks us in at night, and the espresso that gets us going each morning. It’s the finely tuned Beats headphones that allow us to make it through the day and the deposit slip stamped federally insured that gives us confidence and security.
It is not the foundation or the building blocks that make up our country, but rather the load bearing walls and support beam that can not be moved without tearing down what exist.
Racism is a mighty river that has flowed through generation after generation, eroding shores, and forming new streams. It has slowly become the infrastructure and source of entire systems, blurring words, and marring interpretations. These streams have risen up, to become rivers. These rivers are seen as separate from the original, but are from the same source, just taking on different directions and spanning different territory.
Why are we eager to build a wall, but not willing to build a dam to stop the flow of a stream that has created a culture that is simply un-american?
As my wife and I watched the trailer to the coming attraction Race (the story of Jesse Owens), I asked my wife how a man can carry America on his back, stand beside Ralph Metcalf and make a statement for the country a declaration not of independence but of American superiority, bring home medals and return to a place where he was considered second place; possibly third?
We have moments that should bring us together as a people, but they are just moments. Moments that are enduring on photo and video, but leave no lasting impact. Much like Sunday morning for the masses, the message of truth is loud and clear, but the ears of the hearer are stopped up due to their hand in the sin that continues under-gird what we believe to be happiness.