And then, I clicked on through the loops and swirls of the online shopping world until I found a different doll. A whiter doll. And I gave that doll to her for Christmas.
I walked with my neighbors, church family and fellow citizens in the Dunn Unity Walk yesterday evening. My children carried signs and we chanted- "No Justice, No Peace!" When we neared City Hall, I passed a woman with a megaphone. She shouted "Say his name! Say his name! I can't breathe! I can't breath!" and I wept.
I still feel like weeping. Because, deep down, I think the evil that made that man keep his knee on George Floyd's neck is the same evil that made me keep clicking that December day.
I could argue that my upbringing was filled with lessons about equality (it was) or that I've always done my best to not judge someone because of the color of their skin. Or, I could just be silent, as I usually have been, afraid to speak up because I might offend my family or my neighbors or people I want to please. I could talk about the destruction of the riots and how God wouldn't desire that much violence. All of that might even be true. But it isn't the deepest truth. The deepest truth is that I clicked on that day because there is something inside of me, something old and evil- something absorbed from the centuries of inequitable life in this Southern land that whispered to me- "the dark one isn't good enough."
God, forgive me. I am so, so, so sorry. Maybe my skin has always been white, but my heart hasn't been. And one thing that I am sure of- George Floyd's death has convinced me that I need to pray this prayer.
Wash me clean of my iniquity and cleanse me. Psalm 51:2
p.s. I bought Story that Barbie today. Let the reparation begin.
