Reconciling Contradictions: A Biracial Perspective on Racism

Percy Bysshe Shelley, a famous English poet, said that, “Poets are the unacknowledged legislators of the world.” In so saying, he was acknowledging the essential role that poets — and by extension, creatives — play in the ordering and reform of social life. Creatives wield great power and responsibility when it comes to addressing social wrongs, and advocating for them to be made right. In this vein, Levy Fam Creative does not shy away from addressing issues of social justice. In fact, we believe that the very impulse that drives great art is inseparable from the impulse that seeks to impact society and the world for good.

In other words, what does it profit to help ourselves, and our children, to become great artists, yet terrible human beings? The pursuit of art is the pursuit of truth, beauty, and goodness. With that in mind, Sarah will speak to the issue of racism in our society from her own unique and creative perspective.

A Biracial Perspective on Racism (Sarah Levy)

One of the most important things my father ever taught me about race came when I was choosing a college. I am mixed. My mother is white and my father is black. I have lived most of my life in mostly white communities and suffered sometimes for being too white and sometimes too black and I was tired. I felt so out of place and was concerned mostly with this issue as I was looking at the colleges around me. When I asked him, in tears, why he chose to live and work in a non-diverse community, he shared this: He told me that when he made decisions or even thought about himself as a person, it was first as a child of God. He was indeed a black man, but that was only a piece of his identity. He was first a Christian, and this was the prominent place from which all his decisions were made. He was next a husband, and a father, and a black man; but being black was not the primary or singular way that he defined himself or made his decisions. 

That piece of advice allowed me to breathe. I still struggled as a 19-year-old to fit in or discover who I was, but I was less weighed down by trying to define myself by my race. Fast forward 20 years, I still live in a mostly white community, and if I am honest, I think very little about my race most of the time. I have a husband and 4 children and a job and a home and a beautiful church community, and so I am busy. But when it is quiet and I pick my head up, I cannot help but wrestle with the realities of living in a country where systemic racism still exists, still takes the lives of men and women of color in massively disproportionate numbers. 

So, as a believer, and a wife, and a mother of black sons and daughters, here are my thoughts.

As a believer, which I believe to be my overarching and defining identity I know this.

We are those who speak for the oppressed.

We are those who weep with those who weep.

We are those who are quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to anger. 

We are those who believe that God will bring justice.

We are those who believe that vengeance does belong to God.

We are those who wait to speak until the Lord gives us words to say.

We are those who strive to live at peace as much as it is up to us, yet,

We are those who are not afraid to fight 

We are those who are called to care for the oppressed.

We are called to speak truth where there are lies. 

We are called to bring light where there is darkness.

We are those who are angry and sin not.

One thing about Jesus is that he seemed to be able to contain in himself things that seemed to be contradictory. He loves grace and He loves justice. He will forgive and he will hang a millstone around your neck and throw you into the sea. We cannot in ourselves hold his wisdom. We can approach His throne boldly and expect him to give it to us. We can beg for wisdom and strength and courage when we need to stand and fight. We can beg for grace and humility when we need to love and forgive. We can treat our brothers and sisters who see things differently with kindness, and yet always speak the truth in love. We come to this table with such different experiences and different thoughts. 

Let it be said of us, fellow believers, that we loved well, that we did justly, that we loved mercy and that we walked humbly with our God. 

As a black woman (I am mixed race, but as far as the outside world perceives me I am a black woman) I am grieved to my core. I am afraid for my sons. I worry about my husband. He takes walks early in the morning every day and I hate the feeling of wishing he wouldn’t wear a hoodie. I also know that my experiences with racism have been minimal compared to those of so many others. I am furious that this would continue and I feel powerless and frustrated when I look at our long history of racism. I feel often unseen and lonely in a community where very few understand what it is like to be a minority. Don’t get me wrong, my community loves me and my family very well, but incidents like this highlight some of our deep differences which is a lonely experience. 

If you have never had to think about it, that is privilege. If you have never had to consider what to wear to seem less threatening, that is privilege. If you have not had to teach your sons to always keep their hands showing and speak softly and carefully if pulled over by a cop, that is privilege.  

I got a message this morning from a woman in my church. We are acquaintances but she has been the first in my community to take the risk in acknowledging my blackness and reaching out with such a sweet tenderness that I wept. I wept in relief that I was black and it was both different and ok with her. Our differences did not need to be minimized for us to connect, in fact, the connectedness came from her very acknowledgment of these differences. 

I don’t know that I have anything here to say that hasn’t already been said, but let us not be people who are unwilling to engage with the pain and the heartache at hand even if it is not our own. Let’s come, in humility, to the table with hearts to hear and to love and to forgive and to extend grace to one another as we stumble forward. Let’s reach out even when it might be uncomfortable, let’s give grace easily when we are hurt by others' ignorance. 

Let us be the ones known by our love.