Haunting conversations have a way of staying with us because they trigger deeper reflections that can be both memorable and disturbing. One recent conversation was both.
A college professor had just joined our group and explained that he taught a two-semester course on Western civilization. He was very proud of his course, his students and the interactions that his lectures invited.
Because his syllabus lacked any authors of color, he was asked if any Black students took his course. He responded almost immediately by saying that Black students would find his course too “challenging.” Shocked by this answer, another person asked if he agreed that systemic racism was a problem in our country. He did not.
Then came the second shock: A doctor taking part in the conversation opined that there was a blood idiosyncrasy among people of color that made them unusually more susceptible to COVID-19. Other people in the conversation pointed out that Black and brown people got sicker and died at higher rates than others during the pandemic.
Most people are not racists, and the professor and the doctor would not see themselves as racists by any means.
But what they said in this brief conversation was deplorable, racist and especially disturbing given their age and education. These comments, like the tip of an iceberg, were the visible evidence that the abolition of racism has a long, long way to go in our society today.
As we celebrate Independence Day and the birth of our nation, there is a raging battle over what has come to be known as “critical race theory.” State legislatures and school boards across our country are protesting its inclusion in the regular curriculums of our public schools. It has become a staple in our ongoing culture wars.
So what is this critical race theory that is causing such great turmoil? Critical race theory is American history. Black Wall Street was burned to the ground 100 years ago. It was the Greenwood District in Tulsa, Okla., home to more than 10,000 prosperous Black residents.
Black Wall Street’s destruction is considered the single worst incident of racial violence in American history.
In spite of the massacre of more than 200 Black residents, the injury of more than 800 Black citizens and the complete destruction of their livelihoods and homes, the Tulsa race riots were never included in the history books that most of us read in school.
While we all learned that Lincoln freed the slaves, we never learned about Jim Crow laws, the frequent lynching of innocent Black men or the machinations that deprived Black people of their right to vote.
We never learned that our founding fathers were slave owners or that some would be guilty of rape in a 21st-century court.
In fact, we never learned how the treatment of Black men and women throughout our nation’s history is nothing less than an outrageous and disgraceful scandal.
Critical race theory (CRT) began as part of the civil rights movement of the 1970s. Initially focused on the intersection of U.S law and racial justice, it blossomed into an analysis of how disparate racial outcomes are the result of systemic racism rather than intentional prejudice on the part of individuals.
It flourishes today as a reminder that American history is sorely deficient if it does not include a thorough discussion about the roots and impact of racism.
The sentencing of Derek Chauvin last week for the murder of George Floyd rekindled the outrage that Floyd’s nine-minute torturous death ignited one year ago. Floyd’s homicide at the hands of a police officer as other police officers stood idly by, captured on video, catapulted racism to the consciousness and conscience of our nation.
“Black Lives Matter” (BLM) signs that dot our landscape bear witness to a rejuvenated awareness that so much more needs to be done to create the beloved community that was the aspiration of Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.
Our July 4 holiday celebrates something wonderful in our history. We call it Independence Day for a reason. We are a democratic republic. We are a free people who hold within our hands our own destiny.
Our Pledge of Allegiance encapsulates our democratic ambitions with the words “liberty and justice for all.” Today, we realize, as never before, that these goals have been denied many of our brothers and sisters because of the color of their skin and, in many cases, because of their national origin. “Stop Asian Hate” signs have joined the BLM signs and underscore the unfinished agenda of the Civil Rights Act of 1965.
White privilege is real. Our Black, brown and Asian sisters and brothers attest to this fact and live with its consequences every day. In order to get where we need to be as a nation, we need to acknowledge this along with systemic racism. We need to teach our children the unvarnished truth of American history. At the same time, we need
to celebrate the triumphs of our democracy. Most importantly, we need to become anti-racists in our hearts and actions.
Democracy is fragile. It needs to be strengthened through honest education. It needs greater voter participation, not less. Most of all it needs healthy, honest dialogue that rises above partisanship, eschews demagoguery and seeks the common good of all of our citizens. This is how liberty and justice can become more than empty hopes for everyone.
Msgr. Paul V. Garrity is the former pastor of St. Mary’s Parish in Lynn and the current pastor of St. Brigid and Sacred Heart Parishes in Lexington.
