Humility Over Fear

Kaitlyn Bush • January 17, 2022

In one of his sermons, Martin Luther King discussed what it means to truly love others. 

 

He begins by stating,

“Now first let us deal with this question, which is the practical question: How do you go about loving your enemies? I think the first thing is this: In order to love your enemies, you must begin by analyzing self… 

Now, I’m aware of the fact that some people will not like you, not because of something you have done to them, but they just won’t like you…

But after looking at these things and admitting these things, we must face the fact that an individual might dislike us because of something that we’ve done deep down in the past… That is why I say, begin with yourself. There might be something within you that arouses the tragic hate response in the other individual.”

 

Kaitlyn shares a part of her story with us in the post below. As we read her vulnerable thoughts, we can each ask ourselves how we can be better. How can we be better listeners? Better see-ers? How can we better love those around us by first beginning with ourselves?


 There were a lot of reasons why I wanted to be single for the rest of my life.  One of those reasons was the murder of Eric Garner.  Eric was a black man from Staten Island who died when a police officer put him in a prohibited chokehold while he was being arrested on July 17, 2014.  He was being arrested for selling single cigarettes without a tax stamp.  The officer attempted to handcuff Eric but Eric pulled away, asking that he not be touched.  It was then that the officer put his arm round Eric’s neck and pulled him to the ground and pinned him.  Eric told the officers present that he couldn’t breathe 11 different times and none of them interceded.  


I want to take a break to say that this is not a commentary on the police.  This is a glimpse into why I felt I had no choice but to remain single. 


I was 25 years old when I watched the video of Eric’s murder.  I don’t know why I watched it.  I was sitting on my bed and when the video was over, I wept.  A lot of things were going through my head at that moment.  The clearest thought was that I never wanted to have a son whose murder was recorded and no officer helped him.  I didn’t want to have to explain to my future son why his skin color could put him in danger when he is pulled over by an officer.  I refused to have to fear for my future son’s life every time he walked out the door because someone might have a bias against someone who looked like him.

I’m bi-racial, my mom is white and my dad is black.  People in Colorado don’t really know how to categorize me; I know that.  I’ve been told I look Mexican, Puerto Rican, Cuban, Dominican.  I have a script down to explain my background to people. I knew that if I had children with a black man, my children would look black.  My fears would be reality.  But I knew that if I had children with a white man, my children would look white.  They would look safe.  I wouldn’t have to give my future son potentially life-saving instructions on how to cooperate with police.  I wouldn’t have to pray for my future son to not be objectified as someone to be feared due to his stature and darker skin complexion.  I wouldn’t have to be afraid that my future son would be racially profiled. 


Unfortunately, I carry these fears into the church. I am grateful to be a part of this church. I’ve been a faithful member since I was 19 and this church has saved me from so much. But we are not perfect.  I would even dare to say that we are not the church God has called us to be. In some of His last moments, Jesus prayed that we would be one as He and the Father are one (John 17:21-23).  This is a high calling, but if Jesus prayed for this then it is not impossible.  I’ve spoken with many of my black brothers and sisters and the overwhelming feeling is that we don’t know how to talk about the experiences of black people.  And honestly I have felt that.  I would not be telling you about my fears when I was 25 had I not processed through them already.  The church should be a safe place for everyone and a lot of black people don’t feel that it is for them.  How are we to win the world if we are not a sanctuary?  How can we continue to add members to our church if we don’t take care of the members we already have?  I know of a dozen people who have left our fellowship partly because we don’t know how to love our members of color.

So what do we do?  I recently went to a discussion where a black woman who has been a pillar in our congregation shared her very real experiences with racism.  Later in a small group discussion, a friend of hers, a white man, had something incredibly profound to say. He questioned why this individual would find it necessary to hide half of their life from him. Why would this woman he had known for decades decide over and over to not share their struggles as a black person?  He wanted to know what it was about him that made this person feel that they couldn’t tell him those things.  That’s such a powerful thought!  I can say with near certainty that every black person you know has been profiled, discriminated against, or had to change a part of themselves to fit in with the mainstream culture.  Do you know their story?  Are you a safe place for them to process their trauma?


It was really hard to share with my husband my feelings about the color of my children’s skin. I didn’t want him to think that I only married him because he was white. There were many other reasons why marriage was something I didn’t think I’d ever want to be a part of.  It took courage for him to listen to my story and not view it as a commentary about him. It took humility for him to be able to hear the pain and trauma and walk with me through it. He is so empathetic as I continue to share my thoughts and fears. And the biggest thing is he believes me; he doesn’t question my experiences, he just accepts them. He is still so eager to learn about the things he can do to make my life easier, how he can protect me. And when he can’t, he continues to learn how he can mourn with me.  Are you willing to do the same for the people of color in your life?

Race can be a tender and difficult topic. We appreciate the humility and vulnerability Kaitlyn demonstrates by sharing a part of her story. If you would like to learn more about how issues of race might be impacting your friends, church and community, we encourage you to look into the resources listed below. 


• Be the Bridge Book Group: offered in 8 week sessions. The goal of this group is to create healthy dialogue about race in our communities, and to create a safe and positive space for both learners and well-seasoned reconcilers to ask questions, process thoughts and share ideas. Contact Kaitlyn Bush for more information.

• Cultural Humility and Racial Equity Training: This 2 part course can be offered to small groups and/or community groups. This training offers a safe space to discuss issues around identity, culture and race, and how understanding these more deeply allows individuals to make a greater, kinder impact on those around them. Contact Carmen Hamilton for more information.

• Meals that Heal:  This is a family to family opportunity to take conversation to a deeper level. Families, or households will be matched together to enjoy a meal and time of conversation together. Participants will be provided with a “care package”. In this package will be a list of gentle conversation starters to introduce topics related to identity and culture. The goal of this time is to open opportunities for deeper conversation and grow in appreciation for the individual experiences of those around us. Contact Suzie Conner for more information.

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