Normally, I’m thinking about what I should write next about football. But in the wake of the deaths of Ahmaud Arbery and George Floyd, I find that watching the protests and riots sweeping across the country is all that is really on my mind.
As I was scrolling on Facebook yesterday, my really good friend who has adopted two African American children had posted the following along with a picture of him with his son:
When does our son go from being a cute little boy to someone society is afraid of?
The fact that someone whom I love has those thoughts bothers me immensely.
Empathy is in short supply these days, but the only way to generate empathy is through proximity. It’s not that we (humans) don’t care when there is an injustice. It’s that if the injustice doesn’t affect us or someone close to us, it is a peripheral rather than central issue in our lives. Arbery and Floyd – while immensely sad to me – didn’t have any proximity to me until I thought about them through the context of my friend and his son, someone I have played with and prayed about.
Does that make me evil or racist? I don’t think so. I think it makes me human.
So that’s the reason for this article. I can’t know what someone of another race goes through when they see someone who looks like them targeted by the opposite race, especially when that person is a police officer.
But I do know that empathy comes through proximity, and that can only come by having conversations with people who do have that experience.
So I’ve invited someone with a different perspective onto this platform.
I only know him through Gator football (and a famous Thanksgiving plate) and I wish that’s what we were talking about. But through the past couple of days, he has invited conversations to help make things better. That’s what I hope we do here.
So Vari, introduce yourself a little bit and just give your thoughts on the past couple of days, and why you would agree to do this with someone who is essentially a complete stranger.
Vari:
Thanks for coming to me with this idea. As you mentioned, we don’t know much about each other, but isn’t it a good sign when you realize the underlying message here? We need to strike up conversations with those we aren’t familiar with to better understand what they are dealing with, where they are coming from. More about that below.
By way of introduction, I am a 28 year-old bi-racial male that has lived my entire life calling Jacksonville, Florida my home outside of my time as a student at the University of Florida. Growing up bi-racial in the south gives you a unique and well-informed perspective on race issues in our country. As is true with any child, you spend a good portion of your youth looking for where you fit in. When you are bi-racial there’s an extra element to that, as there is no automatic gravitation to the group of people that looks, speaks, and acts like you. You develop a keen sense for the subtle difference between our cultures, an issue that I believe is the crux for why we are going through what we are dealing with today.
In my opinion, to look at the problems we are facing today pigeonholed as a “cop problem” is myopic. We have a cultural problem that readily identifies itself through the interaction of races with law enforcement.
Police officers, by necessity, hold positions of great power in this country. Their missteps are magnified in the racial discussion due to the sheer magnitude of the consequences of their actions. People die, get seriously injured, and lose their freedom due to the actions of the police. The same inherent biases, the unfamiliarity, affecting a white small business owner interviewing an African American male are present; the difference is the consequences of their actions.
My initial thought here is massively big picture. I think the outcry of the African American community has an undertone of “you just don’t understand us” to it. It is so much easier for white people, particularly those of middle class and up socioeconomic status, to live their lives in a bubble, devoid from any real substantive relationships with minorities.
So that would be my starting point with this discussion. Before you can get into the weeds, policy reform, positive good works… why not start by asking yourselves how much do I really know about minority brothers and sisters and what makes them tick? What are some ways white Americans can get involved and immerse themselves into the culture of minorities; that way we can play the long game and eliminate the inherent biases and discomfort that likely acts as a starting point for all of our problems.
Will:
It’s a weighty question at the end there.
I suspect the first thing is for me to actually want to get involved and immerse myself in the culture of African Americans. Perhaps the recent events are a driver to do just that.
I also like to think that I’m relatively open-minded about those sorts of things and don’t close myself off to learning about others, but the reality is that just like other people, I operate out of self-interest and am limited by time constraints.
I have learned a lot about Chinese culture because my wife is Chinese. Not only does it help me interface with my in-laws and understand where my wife is coming from to look closer at her culture, but it helps me to guide my children – dealing with some of the bi-racial questions you posed above – as they navigate their way in the world.
I’ve also learned a fair amount about the culture of El Salvador because my sister married someone from there and many of the customs and celebrations are foreign to me. It’s actually been a lot of fun to get to walk into those environments as the outsider and learn, even though sometimes it is uncomfortable.
I don’t believe either of these cultures is superior or inferior to mine, but they certainly are different. I would also say that there are those whom I have met within each of those communities who certainly do believe that their culture is superior to mine. Likewise, there are white people who hold that view as well.
And just like any culture, there are people whom I get along with and don’t. There are people whom I think are wonderful and those whom I believe are misguided. As much as we’d like to think it is untrue, no culture or race has a monopoly on virtue or jackassery. And if I’m truly honest, sometimes I’m the jackass.
When I was in first grade, my best friend was an African American kid named Reggie. My memory is that we dropped off an invitation to my birthday party at his house. I think we even called to invite him because I really wanted Reggie at my birthday party and he told me he wanted to be there as well.
But it was made clear to me that Reggie wasn’t allowed to come over to a white kid’s house.
I don’t believe Reggie’s parents were evil. I think they wanted the best for their son. But to say that their reaction to my invitation didn’t scar me would be dishonest.
Years later, an African American man from my small group told me that when I disagreed with a policy of Barack Obama, he felt like I was personally attacking him. I never wanted him to feel that way, so I’ve just stopped having conversations about politics. We talk about family, divorce, sin and all sorts of other things, but that was and is the third rail in that relationship.
So I really appreciate your willingness to have this conversation. I think we’re two people with very different life experiences and likely few shared experiences. But it’s interesting because the University of Florida in this case did exactly what it was supposed to do: it gave us a shared experience that brought us to a place where we’re having a conversation.
So the question I’d ask back is this: What experiences have you had in your life that are common to people with your racial and cultural background? Is there a baseline that someone like me needs to understand to enable me to begin to understand what makes you tick?
Or is that the wrong question because I should go into this believing that you are an individual not solely defined by his cultural or racial background?
Vari:
You ask about common experiences. My experience is unique as a mixed race person largely because I spent a lot of time fairly equally around both cultures. My life experiences are combination of both.
The fact you asked that third question is awesome to me, because I think that is one of the things African Americans want more than anything out of all this tragedy. Part of the problem with the way black folk are treated in this country is we feel we are always generalized. Hell, that has a lot to do with why we are proportionately mistreated by the police.
Ironically, that might lead me into what I’d say the “baseline” is. I’d say African Americans sincerely respect a genuine person, no matter what that entails. If you can approach a black American comfortable in your own skin and genuinely seek out that interaction, you’ll be accepted with open arms. The experiences you had with Reggie and your friend later in life, those were probably reactions coming from a place of trust, no matter whether they were warranted or not. And probably the most important effort that needs to be made in response to what we are experiencing today on the behalf of the white community is an effort to build some trust between the cultures. That is obviously not an overnight fix, but we need to start working in that direction.
You are right when you say no culture has a monopoly on jackassery (that’s a first for me with that one). You are right when you say that all cultures have that sect that thinks their upbringing is superior to others. You are right about both of these things, but the massive differences between the cultures, white when compared to all others, is the history and sheer numbers. We live in a country where one group maintained power over all others for generations and built institutions in the meantime. That is where the true problems lie, the sect that believes their white culture is superior to others and frowns down on all the others is acting from a position of more power.
In a perfect world, I think we’d see things crumble at the human level and then the impacts would naturally be felt at an institutional level.
Will:
You just hit on what I think is a large driver of tension between the two groups. A lack of trust both ways along with a lack of trust in institutions means there are only three ways to make change: change the people, change the institutions or burn the institutions to the ground and rebuild.
You’re not going to get most Americans to buy into the third solution. In fact, the very suggestion is why there is so much push-back to the suggestion that institutions are systematically racist, because if the system is evil, it shouldn’t exist.
I do think you can get a broad consensus around the second solution, but it’s also going to require some compromise and some level of imperfection.
For example, I do think it’s time we take a real hard look at police unions and the power that they wield when it comes to keeping bad cops on the streets. And as long as we’re at it, I think we should have the same conversation about teachers’ unions that produce rubber rooms where money used to pay teachers to do nothing could be used to invest in students.
I think we need to have draconian penalties for ethics violations when prosecutors, cops and teachers do things that aren’t necessarily illegal but are certainly unethical.
The murders of George Floyd and Ahmaud Arbery are stomach churning. But the fact that the cop who killed Floyd wasn’t in jail pending his review and that the prosecutor in Georgia so clearly abdicated his responsibility in the Arbery case is what really makes my blood boil.
But no system is going to prevent all of these things because systems are carried out by people and people are flawed. And I worry that the result of more draconian penalties is that there will be the same feeling of disenfranchisement as those penalties get applied through flawed human prisms.
That leaves changing the people, and I actually do have a lot of faith that people are inherently good and want to improve.
My mother-in-law was not pleased when my girlfriend, now wife, brought a white guy home for dinner. In her heart of hearts, maybe she still isn’t. All I wanted was for her to believe that I had her daughter’s best interests at heart.
I’m not expecting her to change, and I still love her. But you’d better believe that experience is going to impact how we treat the people that our kids introduce us to.
Even this email exchange. I don’t reach out without the Floyd murder, but at this point, I’d be disappointed if you and I don’t have some sort of relationship moving forward. Obviously that’s a two-way street and I’m not expecting us to be best friends, but just a few emails back-and-forth has moved the trust needle substantially on my end.
I realize that isn’t a whole lot. After all, it’s just a couple of emails. But just like the 400-pound guy who has to start with a walk around the neighborhood instead of signing up for a marathon, you have to start somewhere.
Vari:
Change the people, that much is clear to me. Fundamental change of the institutions won’t change until the people running them start looking at their structure and being offended by the results. We’re playing the long game here. There’s no overnight fix. I’ve tried to caution my black brothers and sisters who are expecting radical change overnight, you’re setting yourself up for disappointment.
That’s ok though. If you’re really asking people to change the fiber of their beings, and that’s what is going to help make this country a safer place for minorities, you’re going to have to give them time to establish a new normal.
I have a four-month old son. It has been one of the most rewarding experiences of my life watching him observe and develop his baseline of knowledge. I think about the social cues he’s starting to pick up, the sheer amount of information he’s digesting, and I realize that’s how deeply engrained the things we are discussing are in our psyche.
Let’s not get the ultimate goal confused with the need for immediate action. From a political and judicial perspective, there are things we change immediately to make a change right away. Start by abolishing qualified immunity and turning the spotlight on the excessive intermingling of prosecutors and police to establish an immediate aura of accountability.
This has been a rewarding experience. This dialogue has challenged me to put words on paper, to digest my thoughts, feelings, and experiences, and connect them to the repercussions of an event that has shaken us both. I’m with you when you say you think people are inherently good. I’d imagine that there are others engaging in a similar exercise, forcing themselves to be still, reflect, and listen.
The dialogue doesn’t stop here.
Will:
No, no it doesn’t.
I can’t do anything about history. But I’m 38, born just at the start of the Millenial Generation. I’m also just getting to a position in my profession where I actually do have some level of control and authority, as are other people my age. With that authority is going to come an advanced ability to impact change.
Every generation sees progress. It’s never as fast as we’d like, and soon enough (maybe even already), people my age will be digging in their heels for what they see as unreasonable asks given current circumstances from the next generation.
My only hope is that the dialogue continues.
The recent discussion around Drew Brees worries me. I’ve been a little bit surprised at the lack of anyone in the Saints locker room coming out and saying that Drew Brees has treated them well and is a stand-up guy, even if they disagree with him. I think what Brees said – and I don’t really agree with him – is waaaaaay different than what came to light about former Georgia QB Jake Fromm, yet some are lumping them into the same category.
Polite, respectful disagreement is good. Understanding different perspectives and trying to put yourself in someone else’s shoes is a way to grow. I really believe that in the marketplace of ideas, the best ones win if they are allowed to percolate to the top.
That is the dream of this country, the Constitution, the Bill of Rights and specifically the First Amendment, understanding that the dream and the reality do not always align.
At the end of the day, I started this whole exchange by saying that I believe that empathy can only be gained through proximity. I still believe that wholeheartedly.
Thank you for allowing me – and my readers – some proximity to your views and your thoughts. I have learned a lot and have been challenged by what you have written.
I hope they have been too.