Brothers.

I cannot imagine losing one of my teenage brothers. My heart aches for sisters all over America.

I want to use my voice to say that I am sure it is not a light thing to be the one who has to make the split second decision that an officer is trained to make, decisions that are necessary to train for in their dangerous and self-sacrificing line of work.

I also want to use my voice to say that it is not fair that I do not have to have the same fears as others about my brothers being exactly what they are – teenage boys.

Because my brothers have white skin and blue eyes, their towering height is not perceived as a threat as quickly to strangers.

Because my brothers have white skin and blue eyes, their stupid decisions (because all individuals under the age of 25 haven’t fully developed parts of the brain that think long term) have a lower risk of them ending as a statistic or a hashtag.

Because my brothers have white skin and blue eyes, you don’t double check your locks or avoid eye contact. You aren’t conscious of the bag you are carrying when they pass you on the sidewalk.

Because my brothers have white skin and blue eyes, hoodies and being out late at night are a part of life that is associated with being typical, not being criminal.

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

Because my brothers have white skin and blue eyes, I want to celebrate every time that they seek to learn from others.

Because my brothers have white skin and blue eyes, I value every experience that increases their celebration of diversity and brings perspective to their worldview.

Because my brothers have white skin and blue eyes, I will get uncomfortable and risk the push back of a controversial post.

Because my brothers have white skin and blue eyes, I will annoy them with taking up an afternoon or two with explaining systemic racism and the jump start we have with our lighter skin – our ancestors were most likely getting educated and employed while our friend’s ancestors were building this country with their blood and children and no credit for it.

Because my brothers have white skin and blue eyes, I pray that they are growing to have genuine, deep, life-sharing friendships with people of all walks of life.

Because my brothers have white skin and blue eyes, I will ask them if they want to purposely eat at a restaurant where we may meet someone who just moved to America, or whose family sacrificed everything to get them here when they were a child.

Because my brothers have white skin and blue eyes, I will pray for wisdom with my passion as it tends to act before I pray – I want to model how to advocate and not stay silent, but I don’t want to walk all over others and thus be a noisy gong.

Because my brothers have white skin and blue eyes, I started writing this blog when there was a sister who lost her brother in Central Ohio last week. I saved it as a draft. I don’t want to get in the mix, start comments, or speak when I know so little.

Because my brothers have white skin and blue eyes – silence is a privilege that I have the option to sit in. I am not perfect. I do not know everything to say here. I may easily get facts wrong or rub someone the wrong way.

But if I would argue so fiercely that you should not choose silence with the gospel just because there is always more to learn, always a question you will not be able to answer – how in the world can I justify choosing silence on an issue that is clearly a part of a holistic gospel?

I want to be a part of redeeming spaces.

I want to be a part of this space being redeemed.

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