"Daddy, I'm gonna ask Amos to play with his dragons." my littlest says to me. Amos has overheard and immediately starts protesting. "Amos, wait. Montgomery is talking to me." I call him off. Resolute in her desire, Montgomery looks at me, hopeful, "He might say yes." I roll my eyes inwardly, "Yes, honey, he may say yes." Still grunting impatiently, Amos awaits the opportunity to rain on her parade. Montgomery walks over to where Amos is prancing around, now playing grumpily and says, with excitement in her voice, "Amos, may I play with your dragons?" "Not right now..." he mumbles, with a sidelong look at me. Montgomery immediately falls apart, sobbing uncontrollably. I sigh heavily, "Amos, why can't Montgomery play with something of yours that would make her happy, when you're not even playing with it?" I recognize quickly that's a lot of words for my 12 year old to digest. I tend to the little one, pick her up to console her. "She doesn't play with em right...." I hear Amos mutter. I groan to myself, wishing they could figure this out without my involvement or, at least, not having to hear each and every piece along the way. I chuckle to myself, recognizing Amos has all the power, but not the brains to make this work peaceably, or even to his advantage.
Does this remind you, as it does me, of the owners and players in MLB? Fans want baseball. It seems clear, we've reached a point with this covid problem that we can resume live sports. I get that both players and owners are each regarding their own desires, viewing their respective perspectives as exhaustive. Each step along the way, the latest briefing tells us about each party's intentions. We're gonna ask the players to take significant salary cuts in addition to the salary cut to which they've already agreed, the owners say. The players protest! Wait, the players propose to play more games so they don't have to give up more salary. The owners might say yes. We roll our eyes, recognizing the owners will be unwilling to give. They will have no gate and concession income. They will not show their books. It seems they will hold baseball hostage until they are given what they request. We fans stand here, looking on, acknowledging the likelihood that this will end peaceably is low. The owners have all the power and lack the brains...
I think, too, of my white Anglo-Saxon protestant heritage and the perspective of the world I have because of it. While I have not considered myself privileged in the past, I have often recognized the things I have suffered are, at worst, first world problems. But, in light of recent events and conversations, I admit that I am, indeed, privileged due to the color of my skin. It is privilege because it is not equal. If folks of all skin colors were treated like me, it would not be privilege; it would be the norm. However, I have heard recently, at least more than ever before, black people speaking of an experience quite foreign to me. A perspective that burdened me, that caused me sorrow, that brought me to my knees in prayer.
For many decades, the minorities in our country, specifically the blacks, have proposed, We're gonna ask those whites if we can play with their privilege. We whites protested. Blacks have persisted, resolute in their desire, They might say yes. Time after time, blacks came to us and asked, Can we play, too? Time after time, we whites have grumbled, rolled our eyes, Not right now. You don't play right, our behavior communicates. The mistreatment and systemic racism continues. The blindness to color privilege continues. The power holding continues. I don't pretend that you or I meant to have all the power. We likely didn't ask or work for it. But are we whites going to have the brains to do something about it? Can we admit that through time, black lives have been traumatized, mistreated and perceived inaccurately? Black lives matter. Let's confess. Let's forgive. Let's heal.
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