Tikkun Daily Blog Archive (https://www.tikkun.org/tikkundaily/category/culture/page/81/)
Posts about culture, the arts, the media, book reviews, movies etc.
I suspect that when white people hear “You’re a racist,” what they really hear is the message: “You’re an evil, ignorant, oppressive white supremacist, the sort of person who would re-enslave black people and commit genocide against the remaining Native Americans and Jews if you had the chance.”
Discovering a fellow appreciator of complexity in China, Miki Kashtan discusses with her the complexities of communism vs. capitalism, and considers those of Zionism in Israel/Palestine and of race in the US in the aftermath of the “soul-crushing” Trayvon Martin/Zimmerman verdict.
We have two policies that are in conflict in the case of Ralph Seliger’s article about George Zimmerman’s killing of Trayvon Martin and resulting acquittal, which we have posted below–our policy to facilitate open debate, and our policy against publishing hate speech, racism, sexism, etc. We have decided to publish it with a response from a member of our editorial team.
You’re driving somewhere, in a perfectly normal state of mind, and suddenly, you see someone following you… after a few blocks, you see flashing lights behind you… police lights… how does it feel? Your heart races, even if you’ve done absolutely nothing wrong. When I was around 17 years old I had a beat-up car, and almost every time I crossed the county line from Poor America into Wealthy America , I got pulled over. One day I stood up to the police officer. What’s the difference between me and Trayvon Martin? Beyond my living to be able to tell the story, there are actually a few more.
At a bar yesterday, the MSNBC coverage was on Zimmerman and Trayvon and pain. A pain that still has not dissipated. I sat down and ordered a local brew from Eli, the bartender. We struck up a conversation about the injustice of it all, about this country we live in. Eli and I are both white. So too was the gentleman who was sitting a stool over from me. When a lull hit, he took a swig, leaned toward me over the empty chair between us and said, “It’s just white guilt.” I shook my head.
One of the core principles that shows up in just about everything I write is the commitment to holding everyone’s needs with care. This, with a specific focus on holding with care everyone’s needs for meaningful choice, is the core guideline I use for understanding how to apply the power I have. For as long as those [in my circle or organization, ed.] with less power than me have access to choice, I am satisfied with my use of power. That said, I’ve always been uncomfortable with the addition of the word “equal,” which changes the principle to “holding everyone’s needs with equal care.” Aside from the philosophical uncertainty about how equality of care can even be measured, I don’t see it as either possible or even desirable in all situations to hold all of everyone’s needs equally.
I’m not sure we’ll ever know who was crying out on the recording when George Zimmerman shot Trayvon Martin. But I am certain that millions of mothers in this country are crying out for something that our current justice system cannot give: the assurance that their black and brown boys will not be suspect before we bother to learn their name or their story.
Many years ago I had a dramatic experience when I offered someone extremely difficult feedback, the most difficult I believe I have ever given to anyone, and he demonstrated a way of receiving it that inspired me. As I was almost in panic about what I had said to this person, and yet knew that I couldn’t relate to him without saying it, he looked me in the eye and told me that his practice was that whenever anyone said anything to him about himself, he stretched to imagine it being true, and then attempt to digest it from that perspective. If we can do the work of healing, then we can, over time, develop sufficient tenderness towards ourselves that we can open up to learning from what others say, true or false.
Remember those long, long, Reagan-Bush years? For me, one toxic byproduct of that time was a continual sense of rage and despair. My pattern at the time was this: flash of outrage, flurry of activity, desperate waiting, defeat, despair. Repeat until burnout. Since then, I’ve thought long and hard about an activism that continues past fury to true solidarity with the power to inspire and sustain over the long haul. And I recently had a chance to experience this at the Solidarity Singalong in Madison, Wisconsin.
Since April, a growing number of North Carolinians have gathered at North Carolina’s General Assembly to collectively petition an extreme legislature whose daily decisions are attacking the general welfare. We have called these gatherings “Moral Mondays,” and an awakening of hope led by people of faith has been at the heart of them. On this Monday, dozens of doctors, nurses, school teachers and environmental activists led the crowd of over 4,000 people. This is the statement made by a public school teacher before she was arrested.