Author: Lauren Bechtel

Over Easter break, I stumbled across this meme.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The meme was bad, but what really got to me was the article it was linked to, which was even worse. It started with the statement: “Blacks were treated poorly in this country for at least a couple hundred years.” My breath caught in the back of my throat. Is “treated poorly” a euphemism for enslaved-for-centuries-then-‘freed’-but-effectively-

disenfranchised-and-systematically-oppressed? “Treated poorly” doesn’t make the cut. And the questions themselves – is anyone a slave today? Absolutely yes, there are people enslaved because of their race, gender, orientation, and/or socioeconomic background. In addition, there are over two million people in the United States prison system–being imprisoned is eerily close to being enslaved.

The article ended with a complaint that since not all black people are descended from slaves and not all white people are descended from slave owners, reparation are relevant. The author clearly missed the point – not only of the woman in the meme’s shirt, but of the entire Black Lives Matter Movement, and the even greater issue of reconciliation.

Let’s get one thing straight, I am a firm believer in free speech and freedom of the press. I believe that all people need to be able to speak their minds without fear of their personal safety, but here’s the thing: if we are ever to attempt to restore relationships within our communities, then we need to speak up when hatred like this is spread around social media. When someone makes a racist joke because it is “funny” or complains about historically oppressed people groups getting angry, then I believe I am obligated to use my freedom of speech to say that it is not okay to dehumanize anyone for any reason. People are angry because they have been wronged. People are angry because they have been hurt.

You are free to say what you want, but that freedom comes with consequences – because words have consequences. Words are dangerous, thrilling, oppressive, and liberating. Just because a person has the right to say something racist (or homophobic, or classist, or transphobic, or Islamophobic for that matter…) does not mean saying it is right.

The concept of reparations is not an easy one, but is rooted in the reality of historical systematic oppression. For that reason, it must be taken seriously – particularly by those who have benefited from that oppression, and for those of you who are uncomfortable with the black woman wearing the shirt saying “Give me reparations, bitch,” it makes sense that you’re uncomfortable. No, it’s not a great way to start a dialogue, and all dialogue has to have two parties, yet I refuse to tell someone who is from a marginalized racial group the “right way” to be angry about systemic injustice. Their anger deserves to be taken seriously, even if I don’t agree with how they express it.

Over break I had the opportunity to hear Opal Tometi speak, one of the cofounders of the Black Lives Matter movement. Her presence and her message were inspirational. During the question and answer time, a young black woman stood up and asked about how she should deal with the anger she felt at injustice and oppression. Opal’s response was truly moving – that yes, there is a time and a place for anger, but when seeking systemic change we must be motivated by who and what we love rather than who or what we hate.

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Who do you love? And how do you love them?

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As a white woman, I don’t know from experience what it means to be a person of color in the United States. My job is not to tell others how to feel. My job is to listen to what they are saying about injustice. My job is to ally myself with them, and as an ally, to say something when I see something that is not okay.

I challenge you, the white students on this campus, to ally yourselves with those who are different from you, and speak up when you see, hear, or read something that is offensive . Who do you love? And how do you show your love? “Let us love, not in words or speech, but in action and in truth” (1 John 3:18).

A Responsibility, Not a Suggestion

For many of us at Houghton College, the Faith & Justice Symposium is an annual reminder of the reality of the injustices that are present in the world we live in. This Wednesday, Reverend Tafue Lusama shared his powerful story of how climate change and sea level rise is affecting his home: the island nation of Tuvalu in the South Pacific. And yet his story is not limited to the South Pacific Island nations. The climate crisis that the citizens of Tuvalu are facing is the same crisis that members of every nation across the globe are facing: our world is changing and we must change with it, for better or for worse.

I could list overwhelming amounts of scientific explanations of how climate change is negatively affecting humankind, but the data, numbers, and jargon probably won’t change your life; those things didn’t change mine.

What changed my life? Experiencing reality changed my life. In the past two years I have seen how climate change has affected people’s livelihoods from the mountains of Tanzania to the Alaskan coast.  From climate scientist, Katharine Hayhoe, to my homestay parents in Tanzania, I have heard stories of climate change affecting individuals’ lives.

Climate change, I realized, is an injustice that has social, economic, and physical ramifications. And the greatest injustice of climate change is the reality that those who are affected the most have contributed the least to the problem. Once I connected these dots, I had a decision to make: do something or do nothing. There is no middle ground. I am – we all are – called to loving action, no ifs-ands-or-buts about it.

This call to action became real to me when I had the opportunity to lobby Representative Tom Reed’s staffer, Drew Wayne, to support the PREPARE Act (a bill  designed to help communities prepare for the dangerous effects of extreme weather) in Washington D.C. this summer. I was in the capitol for ten days to be trained as an Advocacy Corps Organizer for the Friends Committee of National Legislation Headquarters – one of eighteen young adults from across the country who joined together with the goal of bringing climate issues to the forefront of our Senators’ and Representatives’ attention.

My life has been changed by the stories I have heard on climate change, and I have realized that my voice, MY story, has  the potential to influence change. This is where you step in. You also have a voice.  When you see an injustice in the world that strikes you at the core of your being, it is not a suggestion, but a responsibility to respond.

Before you stop me and say that you don’t want to get involved in politics, I remind you that our government is designed for its people, regardless of what cynics may say. As I found out this summer, as a constituent of a district, you have a legal right to lobby your congressperson. Scheduling a visit may be challenging because of time constraints, but it is free. While you have to go through security to enter any of the House or Senate Office buildings, you can enter at any time. The only thing stopping you from talking to your congressperson or their legislative staff is you.

And here is where I lay it on thick: Reverend Lusama is here on a speaking tour of the United States to talk about how climate change is affecting his country, in an effort to encourage American people to act. Because even though his nation may be physically destroyed by rising sea levels, he does not have the ability to change American policy on climate change. Who does? Our Congress does. Who can talk to Congress? Citizens of the USA. What are you? A Citizen of the USA.
You have the ability to communicate the need for bipartisan action on climate change to Congress. Your voice, your story, your passion has the potential to make a difference, if you use it. Don’t waste your voice. I refuse to waste mine.