I’m tired.

 

Remember last week I said that anger is exhausting? Well, that was the truth. I used up a lot of energy in frustration and anger and rage. Even more energy was used trying to exercise patience with situations and people that I felt weren’t moving as quickly as I wanted or weren’t trying to help. I spent a lot of time gritting my teeth and using the little ability I had to smile and get through the day. My mind kept circling back to the same thought: Why are we still here? It’s been more than 50 years since Dr. Martin Luther King Jr asked, “How long?”, and more than 150 years since the Emancipation Proclamation. So why are we still fighting racial injustice?

 

 

At one point I had the thought that this is a human problem. We are wired to see difference as a possible threat. Humans have been attacking and fighting and enslaving and warring against each other since creation. Maybe we can’t solve this problem. Maybe a society built on mutual trust and our common humanity is too high a calling for us on this side of heaven. I mean, this isn’t heaven, so it just may be that this is our lot and we need to learn to bear up under it.

It’s a dangerous train of thought. There’s just enough slivers of scriptural truth in it to be convincing. And my mind agreed, but also resisted. And that push-pull was wearing me out! I wanted to put myself to bed and not get up. The strain of living in a pandemic, the emotion of seeing again how the evil of racial injustice still pervades our society and trying to care for patients and my children started to feel very, very heavy. It was tempting to give in to the feeling of hopelessness, to believe the thought that this is not a solvable problem and that whatever little I can do isn’t worth very much. I mean, who cares if I share a story of injustice on my Facebook feed, or help people manage their thoughts and emotions in a post or YouTube video, or reassure one more patient before she goes under anesthesia for me to do her surgery? What difference does any of it make?

 

 

Then I got an email from one of my patients, thanking me for helping her feel safe before her surgery. Several friends shared some posts that I put on my page. One of my friends from church (who is white) has been consistently posting on race and changes she is making and encourages others to make. An elder’s wife from church came to my house to give me two of her tomato plants, and we talked about race and change for much of the morning. She’s white too. A colleague called to ask me how I was doing, just to check on me.

There’s a lot of love in this world. The protests and media uproar are evidence that many people care about racial injustice. I am not alone – and neither are you. We don’t all see things in the same way, and we don’t all have the same opinion about how to make change. But this problem is big and pervasive and insidious – we need all people to work on solving it. I don’t know exactly what I’m going to do in the long term. For now, I’m mourning and remembering history and teaching my kids and practicing kindness and supporting legislative change and participating in boycotts. I’m talking where I feel safe and sometimes where I don’t. I’m encouraging those who have the courage to speak out.

Once the protests end and the fervor dies down, then what? That’s the part I’m most concerned about. What are we going to do to keep another 50 years from going by without solving this problem? If we don’t stay focused on change, it won’t. I think one of the hardest things to do so far has been to talk to each other across color lines. Black people have been talking to each other about racial inequity all along. We were talking to each other more during the Civil Rights era. But when the 1980’s and the Rainbow Coalition came, many of us agreed with the ideal of an equal and post-racial society. The mistake we made was thinking we were already there, which allowed us to stop talking about issues of race and inequality. I’m committed to staying in the conversation for change. As discouraging as it might be to see that we haven’t yet arrived, the lives of Amaud Arbery, Breanna Taylor, George Floyd, Martin Luther King Jr, Emmett Till, Freddie Gray, and many others are worth continuing to fight for change. What will I do? Where will I focus my energies for the long haul? I don’t know yet. But I will figure it out. I’ll keep reading and teaching and talking and sharing and raising my kids to create the world that we all want to live in. I see so many others doing the same. And that gives me hope.

 

 

How are you feeling? Are you weary or inspired or hopeful or angry? What are you doing with all your emotions? Please share in the comments below!

 

And for those of you following, I have a new weight loss series: Going Deeper. Join me and hear why this even matters in the midst of the times we’re living through right now…