Racism Reflections

My evening adult Bible Study group decided to spend some time exploring the Social Statements of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America.  We looked at summaries of all of them and, after some discussion, settled on Race, Ethnicity and Culture as our first one.  Last month, we spent quite a bit of time talking about our own experiences.  We were honest enough to admit that each of us has racist tendencies, many of which are so deeply ingrained and subtle that we are unaware of them until someone else names them.  We are a small group of people who have met together frequently enough to be trusting so that, when that naming happens, we can hear what is said without feeling attacked.  The group will, I suspect, end up being a gift!

As I finalize preparations for tonight's study, I've been thinking about a few things.  I remember my friend Edith.  More than two decades ago, we worked together at McDonald's.  There were many differences between us.  She was more than a decade older than I.  She was married; I was single.  She was a mother; I was not.  She had dropped out of high school when she became pregnant; I was a college student.  And she was black.  Yes, that's right.  She was black.  That was her own self-identifier.  She did not like the then "politically correct" term "African American."

You see, Edith's self-understanding was that she was as American as I was and her African heritage did not change that.  She noted that those of us whose skin is lighter than hers do not generally self-identify as "Polish American" (in my case) or "German American"  or even "European American."  "Why," she asked, "do those of us whose skin is different have to be identified as 'African American' or 'Asian American' as if we are somehow less American than you?"

I had no answer for her.  I still don't.

Another thing that I remember about Edith is her overhearing a conversation between customers and turning to ask me, "Am I your black friend?  Or am I your friend?"

Not having heard the conversation that prompted the question, I was momentarily taken aback but came up with the answer, "You're my friend!"

"Good," she said, "I don't want to be your black friend," and then she explained her comment.  One of the customers had commented disdainfully on the number of minority employees our restaurant had.  The other noted that s/he had "some black friends," and expressed discomfort with the first person's observation.
Edith noted that anyone who classifies their friends by their skin color wasn't, in her mind, a real friend.

I was young and pretty naive when we were friends.  Edith was protective and kind.  I lost touch with her when I graduated from the local community college and went away to the university.  I wish I could tell her how much she continues to influence me.  It's not necessarily that I believe that her perspective is "right," but at times like this, it's definitely food for thought.  Racism and cultural assumptions can cause separation and be painful to others, even when there is no intention of such.