“The women wept and I wept. I too cried for the lost people, their ancestors and mine. But I was also weeping with a curious joy. Despite the murders, rapes and suicides, we had survived. The middle passage and the auction block had not erased us. Not humiliations nor lynchings, individual cruelties nor collective oppression had been able to eradicate us from the earth. We had come through despite our own ignorance and gullibility, and the ignorance and rapacious greed of our assailants.
“There was much to cry for, much to mourn, but in my heart I felt exalted knowing there was much to celebrate. Although separated from our language, our families and customs, we had dared to continue to live. We had crossed the unknowable oceans in chains and had written its mystery into “Deep River, my home is over Jordan.” Through centuries of despair and dislocation, we had been creative, because we faced down death by daring to hope.” ~Maya Angelou
These words are from Maya Angelou’s book, All God’s Children Need Traveling Shoes. Like Maya Angelou, I am crying and mourning, but I am also celebrating. Today I celebrate a young woman who has lived among us bringing joy and kindness wherever she goes. She and her family are people of deep faith and enormous courage. Despite enduring a consistent and terrible pattern of racism and sexism hurled against her at our school, she has continued to build community and grow friendships. In the years that I have known her and her family they have contributed joyfully and generously to build a community of respect among us. I marvel at their strength and resilience, even as they have been harmed in ways that are completely unacceptable anywhere, anytime.
It is vital for us as a community that we not hide or excuse racist, sexist behavior. It is not a private matter. It is a crime against individuals and community and cannot be kept secret. This behavior has continued for generations and still happens because we fail to stand up against it. We cannot take back the enormous harm that has been done to her and to so many others, but we can change current practice and transform the future.
Eli Wiesel, who was imprisoned in a concentration camp as a young boy, said this, “What hurts the victim most is not the cruelty of the oppressor, but the silence of the bystander.” Dear people of Cook County please do not be a silent bystander. Stand up for respect. Work for justice. Reject racism. Celebrate kindness and courage. Dare to hope. Another world is possible.
Each month a member of the Cook County Ministerium will offer Spiritual Reflections. This week our contributor is Reverend Beth Benson of the First Congregational Church – UCC in Grand Marais.
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