Category: Life

I have tried over and over to put aside my chaotic thoughts and feelings and just put out the normal content that I love to share with all of you about food and recipes; books and movies; and everything in between for the last few weeks, but I finally just stopped and stepped back from it all.  I can’t pretend that everything is carrying on like normal in our world.  I usually make a joke about how I live under a rock and miss most of the nonsense that goes on around me, because most of it is just that – nonsense.  What’s happening to all of us right now isn’t nonsense.  It’s life threatening.  I am always in the camp of “if I can’t do anything about it, then move onto something that I can do something about”.  I am very practical that way.

So.  I have a few things that I need to say out loud, because sometimes you have to say the words.

First I want to say that both sides of our family are full of law enforcement of all kinds.  We have City Police, Sheriff’s Deputy’s, State Police, FBI, and more.  My grandfather was a Sheriff’s Deputy.  He was beloved by so many.  When he died, his viewing took hours upon hours for all of the people whose lives he touched to pay their respects.

My uncle was also a Sheriff’s deputy.  He was shot in the line of duty and almost died as a result.  That was one of the worst phone calls I’ve ever received.  He is more brother to me than uncle and the terror of that time still feels present and real.

I could fill pages with their names and how long they have served the public.  We have many friends that are also police of some form.  We have four in our neighborhood with the Chief of Police two houses down from us.  I have a deep love and respect for all of them.  The job that they do is mind boggling to say the least.  It’s not for the faint of heart and I applaud them for getting up and putting the uniform on each day.

We also have friends who are black.  The stories that are being brought out into the open now are….heartbreaking doesn’t even come close.  Things that people didn’t say out loud are now being brought out into the light and it makes me hurt.  I can’t imagine having to hold all of that inside for so long.

I read an article weeks ago that caused me immediate sadness and sorrow.  It had nothing to do with racism, but it struck me.  Hard.  It’s about a guy who runs the streets of his town.  It was what I would call a fluff piece of news, but I’ve always searched them out to balance out all of the absolute garbage that we are inundated with every day.  As I was reading this article I just sat and cried.  Yes, I know how ridiculous that sounds with everything I could find to cry about right now.  But, in one of the sentences near the end of the article it talks about how during the school year he ran at night to complete all of the streets.  Five words that whoever wrote that article probably didn’t even bat an eye over:  he typically ran at night.  Because no one in his neighborhood would have batted an eye over him running the streets at night either.

Hayden used to ride his bike alone on our trail.  The trail is an old railroad bed that has been converted to a lovely, wide hard packed road essentially, that runs from our town to another about 24 miles away.  It’s completely flat which is miraculous here in the mountains, so it’s a lovely place to run, walk or bike.  Some people even take their horses on it.  It’s also beautiful, quiet and remote.  My heart always gave an extra beat whenever he said he was going down there alone (our neighborhood connects to it).  But that was just my mama heart wanting to keep him close to me to be sure that nothing bad would happen to him.

So, while I read this article on May 27th, I just sat and cried.  That extra, painful beat of my heart cannot be compared to what my black mama friends feel when their boys leave the house every day.  One of my friends posted on her facebook the question of when does her little boy become a threat rather than a cute little boy.  Another online friend won’t allow her 13 year old son whose skin is brown unlike her own white skin to run without her or her husband.  He’s not a cute little six year old anymore.

My Daddy told me a story about my Mamaw when I was young that has always stuck with me.  When they were building the four lane highway in the 1960’s that runs through the tiny town that I grew up in, they would bring the workers in on trains from all over the place.  One of those workers walked down to my Mamaw’s house and knocked on the door to ask for water. When my Mamaw asked him how long it had been since he had eaten and he told her days, she took him into her kitchen and sat him down and fed him soup beans with cornbread until he couldn’t eat anymore.  It didn’t matter to her that his skin didn’t look like hers.  He was hungry and she fed him.

That was over fifty years ago.  Fifty years.  We still have racism.  I feel like we are still in the same place, welded into place, doing the same thing over and over again.

It fills me with grief.  It fills me with disgust.  It fills me with rage.  Absolute rage.  I understand that need to rage, and rip and tear and burn.  I want it.  It’s not right.  It’s not good.  But I understand why people are doing it.  Many people were quick to start throwing up quotes from Martin Luther King, Jr. when our world started paying attention, but one that I’ve only seen a few times explains it best I think.  You can watch his full speech here or read it here.  The part that applies here is this:  So I will continue to condemn riots, and continue to say to my brothers and sisters that this is not the way. And continue to affirm that there is another way.

But at the same time, it is as necessary for me to be as vigorous in condemning the conditions which cause persons to feel that they must engage in riotous activities as it is for me to condemn riots. I think America must see that riots do not develop out of thin air. Certain conditions continue to exist in our society which must be condemned as vigorously as we condemn riots. But in the final analysis, a riot is the language of the unheard. And what is it that America has failed to hear? It has failed to hear that the plight of the Negro poor has worsened over the last few years. It has failed to hear that the promises of freedom and justice have not been met. And it has failed to hear that large segments of white society are more concerned about tranquility and the status quo than about justice, equality, and humanity. And so in a real sense our nation’s summers of riots are caused by our nation’s winters of delay. And as long as America postpones justice, we stand in the position of having these recurrences of violence and riots over and over again.  via

Many people have a problem with saying Black Lives Matter and want to counter it with All Lives Matter.  All lives do matter.  But.  I think this sums it up best.

We have to change our world.

We’ve been having deep, hard conversations at our house about everything that’s happening here on our earth.  I truly believe that that’s where you have to start.  At home.  But, if you are like us and have questions that you don’t know the answer to, ask your friends.  If you don’t have black friends to ask, there is a multitude of resources available online now.  I believe that this is what’s different now, fifty years later.  People are paying attention and listening.  Actually listen to what they are saying.

My Daddy is one of the best men I know, and I think part of what makes him the best is his ability to listen.  He got that from my little Mamaw.  I talk a LOT.  I always have.  But I’m listening.  And I’m learning.  I hope that we will all be better for it.

Thank you for letting me vent and pour some of this out.  Be safe, be kind and be well.  And above all, remember that Jesus loves you.