Today started off with a very sour note. All weekend I have been trying to follow the civil unrest in our country, as have the majority of Americans I am sure. I have taken my daughter's calm advice and searched for many sources per news item to make sure I am getting a full picture of the events that have unfolded since Mr. Floyd's tragic death at the apparent hands of law enforcement. I refrained from commenting and even avoided social media until Friday. I watched video footage, I talked with my daughter, a law enforcement officer with more than seven years experience, rewatched videos, and listened to numerous press conferences and interviews. Mr. Floyd was killed at the hands of another man, a police officer. No doubt in my mind, and I usually am the one to tout "innocent until proven guilty", but I cannot see any reasonable doubt here at all.
The accused officer, and the other three present have been fired. Good. The man who knelt on Mr. Floyd's neck for over 8 minutes has been charged with murder, and I am positive an investigation will lead to charges being filed against the other three officers present at this unnecessary death. So, I was quietly, from my safe living room in mid-America, supportive of protests calling for change and recognition of this man's life being lost without just cause. But, I was confused as to why the peaceful protests seemed to add to violent riots and destruction of property.
My son's fiance spent a good portion of the weekend explaining several aspects of this situation to me from the eyes of a person of color in her 20s in America. I now have a clearer idea of what Black Lives Matter is trying to say, and I agree it needs to be said. We visited about the reasoning behind rioting and civil disobedience. She never lectured or judged, and I felt like I was truly learning about some issues I have overlooked. I don't know if or how to address those issues, but now the awareness is there. I felt good about this conversation.
Then I read some information a cousin posted on Facebook, and I engaged with said cousin over two days, digging deeper into my feelings and emotions. We had a very honest, and kind of awkward discussion about "white privilege", a term I find offensive as a middle aged white American woman living in rural America. However, we joked about other things and continued a conversation I felt was making progress. I even said I would do some research about protests in the Michigan state capitol, as we both had very different recall as to the facts.
So, I went to bed yesterday feeling like this is a really tense time in our country's history, but if others would take a breath and talk and LISTEN there is hope. Then I checked my Facebook page early this morning and noticed another cousin had weighed in on our discussion. I was bluntly told my emotions were irrelevant, if I supported our President I was not family. The mean spirited language and the fowl language was a shock. Now, I can cuss with the best of them, but I try very hard not to attack others who disagree with me. This has been on my mind all day.
So, I am a person of white privilege, still not sure that I am, but for the sake of this discussion, I am. So, I am the enemy? Should I feel badly because my husband and I raised tolerant children and tried very hard to dispel prejudice and bigotry, because we could never do it correctly? Never mind that as a woman I have had some run ins dealing with my intelligence and ability to do a job or think. I do not blame all men. I am of Native American heritage, but I do not blame today's military and Congress for what was done to my ancestors. I Irish Catholic , but do not blame other Protestants for the uprising in Philadelphia in the early 1800s. I know there are problems and issues and injustices that must be addressed. However, I am not going to apologize for actions taken before you and I walked this earth.
