Categories
Personal Politics

White Privilege

Thoughts on White Privilege

            The term “white privilege” has appeared frequently in our streets,  news reports, and commentaries. If we are white, this term can make us feel angry or guilty—or some strange combination of the two.

            This is especially true when we are told that white privilege is not simple prejudice but rather something that is built into the social, political and economic structures of our society.

            We don’t like being called racist, since most of us white people really do not think or feel that we look down upon those of different cultures or skin colors. And we become puzzled by terms like “structural racism.”  We just do not see this as true.

            Ah, but that is just the point! 

            If I am painting my porch and wear my paint-stained, rumpled clothes to the bank to get some extra cash to buy supper, the teller might joke about my appearance but will not judge me as a lesser person nor be apprehensive or fearful.  This might not be the case if I were an African-American or a person of Latin American heritage dressed the same way.  

            Think about it!  My whiteness protects me.  I have been stopped by the police for speeding more than once, for example, but have always been spoken to calmly and I never feared that I might be shot if I reached into my pocket to get my wallet with my driver’s license.

            Many years ago, I helped a stranded African-American student with a dead car battery. We took his battery to a local battery shop (now gone) to be charged. When the student asked the proprietor for a receipt, the man turned on him angrily and accused the young man of not trusting him.  Since there were dozens of batteries scattered around the shop waiting attention, I thought the request was reasonable.

            Of course, the student was from St. Louis, where I gathered receipts in such cases were more common.  It was a tense moment.  And it was an example of structural racism; how dare this young black man suggest that he deserved a receipt! It was an affront. Would a white student have been treated with the same anger? Probably not.

            White privilege means that the structures and social norms of our society are defined by white people who can take for granted that people will not be suspicious of us because of our skin color. People of color simply cannot take that for granted.

            Protesters throughout America are asking that we recognize white privilege and try to dismantle it. This will be very difficult.

            In the first place, even though white privilege is unfair, threatens to disturb our society, and our democratic republic, it is not something that can easily be outlawed. It is not just a political problem.

Privilege is about power and those who have it never surrender without a fight. History suggests there will always be those with power and those without. 

Secondly, white privilege, like the racism or color consciousness that undergirds it, is a moral issue. As such the behavior it allows can only be addressed indirectly by our political system, with laws against police brutality, and reforms in our justice system.

 It is not, however, only a personal moral issue. In the words of my favorite spiritual guru, the Franciscan Richard Rohr, it must be seen “as a matter of justice and truth and not just a matter of me being generous and charitable.” 

That may be why we see so many protesters chanting “No Justice; No Peace.”

Rohr believes that we have to change our minds and hearts, and that only great love or great suffering allows us to do that.  Tough, but at least we have a choice.  If we don’t start loving, our children and grandchildren may face great suffering.

Within a generation, those of European descent will be a minority in the USA. At that point, human nature being what it is, white privilege may be replaced by color privilege.

If we think seriously about that, it might be a bit easier for us white folks to help create the society that today’s protesters want to see.

Categories
Personal

Why I Wear a Mask in Public

            Face masks have become a big topic in our media over the past several weeks.  They have even been “weaponized” as a political issue, with Trump supporters claiming they are a denial of individual freedom and Trump opponents claiming that they save lives, something they believe is at least as important as reviving the economy.

            People on both sides of our gaping political divide in America today probably do or don’t wear face masks as political statements. Others, especially in my age group, wear them for other reasons, only a few of which might be deemed political.

I do agree with the members of the “non-wearing” community that face masks are both uncomfortable and can even be costly.

            When I was in Wal-Mart two weeks ago, I adjusted my mask once too often and managed to lose one of my hearing aids in the process. Of course, I didn’t realize this until I got home and it was too late. Fortunately, my three-year insurance warranty was not yet up and I “only” had to pay a $600 to replace the $2000.00 hearing aid I lost.

            Aside from that, face masks are a nuisance when one is speaking or listening to others; they force us to breathe our own carbon dioxide while wearing them, and they tend to slip off of our noses at times. They can itch too.

Nevertheless, as I thought about this issue over the past weekend, I came up with the following

reasons to explain why I do still wear a mask in public places when I am around other people.  You may find some of them interesting—or amusing.

  1. Since I haven’t seen my hair guy since February, they cover part of my scraggly beard;
  2. They make me feel safer and thus more confident when I walk through the still narrow aisles at the grocery store;
  3. They help me feel compassion for the retail workers in all stores who must wear them all day. Just thinking about all the carbon dioxide they are breathing makes me tired;
  4. They allow other mask wearers, some of whom are in a higher risk category than I am, to feel some comfort when I must stand near them;
  5. Wearing a mask allows me to actually do something concrete to prevent transmission of a deadly virus; this is not something I have done before, and it is virtuous;
  6. Even though I have tested negative for COVID-19, I know that we are still months away from even the fastest moving vaccine, so wearing a mask could protect me as well as others;
  7. Sometimes people don’t recognize you when you wear a mask. This is not always a bad thing;
  8. My governor wears one, and I want to stand with Andy as he attempts to protect our Kentucky population;
  9. All of the medical people I visit wear masks and take my temperature.  They know more about disease in general and COVID-19 in particular than I do;
  10. And, finally, I wear a mask because I do not confuse keeping myself and my neighbors healthy with losing my civil rights or personal freedom.

Having said all this, I acknowledge the very real dilemma Americans face in trying to balance our health and the lives of our fellow citizens with the need to restore or reopen the economy. I think the coronavirus is far more serious than the flu, and it pains me that so many of us are falling prey to various conspiracy theories and trying to blame someone else for making us sick instead of helping each other get well.

When all is said and done, perhaps that is what historians will say about this period—that too many of us have sadly allowed an event that should have brought us together (as it has for many already) to degenerate into a partisan political debate with much name and blame calling.                                                                              

And that may be yet another reason to wear a mask—to hide our own shame at letting this happen.

Categories
Personal Religion/Spirituality

Searching for Jesus on Middle Road: A Personal Journey

            Ever since I was twelve years old, I have been searching for Truth or, to put it another way, trying to get things Right.

The Beginning

It was in the spring of 1956 that my mother told me something that I claim as one source of my desire to get things Right and seek the Truth (the two are different but related) whenever I am confronted with a problem.  We were riding south on Highway 61 from Dewitt to Davenport, Iowa in our old Chevy (all our cars when I was growing up were old Chevies, usually painted that dark green paint that I was told was leftover from painting tanks during World War II).  My great-aunt, Rosa Nonnenmacher, who never married, was dying of cancer, and her nieces and nephews were making frequent trips to Dewitt to help her clean out her house and barn.  On one trip home, I wondered or worried about something, and my mother told me that I was conscientious.  I asked her what that meant and she said that it meant that I tried to do the Right Thing (or words to that effect).  I was impressed, decided that was a good thing to be, and “internalized” that idea. 

Categories
General Personal

An introduction

In a world of frightened people, fearful diseases, and political leaders who have a difficult time coping with both, it is more important than ever to revive in our world a concept of how sets of ideas or ideologies play out in both politics and religion.  Living in the American southland for the past 50 years where religion and politics have long been intermixed, it has been intriguing to see this over the decades, even while people claim that the two should not mix or be discussed in polite company.

Of course, while growing up in the Midwest, social etiquette also dictated that one should not discuss religion or politics because they would provoke arguments and make enemies. However, I was fortunate as a young man to be taught in high school and college by men and women who were convinced that religion, morality, and politics were supposed to influence each other.  It was the time of the Civil Rights movement and, later, the war against poverty. It was a time of hope.

I grew up in a time and place where people, especially my peers and teachers in our midwestern Catholic ghetto, believed in the common good even if we didn’t call it that.  Morality and religion (not always combined) defines for us what is good, and it is in the political realm that we define what it is that we should hold and protect in common, for the welfare of all.  I am reminded of this value whenever I see the title Commonwealth of Kentucky on our state logo.

So in this blog, I hope to consider with readers some ideas on how the Christian message might be understood in a way that unifies rather than divides people, and how that, in turn, might promote the common good. I invite all readers to help me do this more effectively.

I now invite you to consider with me two important questions once meditated upon at some length by Francis of Assisi:  Who is God?   Who am I?