As part of our final blog post in this four-part series discussing race, I am going to introduce you to Kelly. Kelly’s and my friendship should never have gained much traction if you believe what the world tells us. But here we are. Black and White: Walking and talking. And we’re still friends.
When I sit down to write, I don’t have a preset agenda. There is no project board in the thankful bee office (our kitchen table) with color coded notes outlining the next several months of content. My creative process is to clear my mind, ask God for guidance, and then just start typing. Some weeks the words come to my fingertips smoothly. Other weeks, I admittedly revise and rewrite a hundred times. This week was easy. And I think it was easy because I’m so fond of the subject.
Meeting Kelly
So, let’s start off by making introductions. Thankful Bee audience, this is my friend, Kelly. And Kelly, these are the readers of the thankful bee. There, now you are acquainted, and we can get to it. And by the way, “Kelly” is not my friend’s real name. She gave me permission to share our conversations with you, and I want to protect her personal privacy. So, I had her choose her own alias. Thus, Kelly.
I originally met Kelly because of a women’s faith-based camping retreat several years ago. She and I were randomly placed in the same smaller camping unit. I walked into the first planning meeting for our little tent pod knowing absolutely no one. And my established pattern in new social situations is to hang back a bit and observe the dynamics before I reveal much of myself. My eyes quickly scanned the room, and my mind wondered, “Which of these women did God specifically put in my path for the weekend?”
And then He answered me.
In the midst of the others asking logistical questions about tents, tarps and trails, one woman raised her hand and straight-faced inquired, “This is great. But what I really want to know is who is bringing the marshmallows?”
*BAM* Found her!
Jesus and marshmallows
By most peoples’ assumptions, Kelly’s and my friendship should never have gained much traction after that weekend. For example, we live in different suburbs of the same city. She is single and does not have children. I am a married mother of three. Additionally, she is a (*gasp*) Millennial, and I am solidly Gen X. Oh, and lastly Kelly is black, and I am white.
Turns out if you both love s’mores and you both love Jesus, then you have enough in common to grow a friendship. Who knew?
Luckily for me, Kelly and I have been able to remain connected over the years despite all of the perceived “barriers” listed above. At the very least, we attend the same church and see each other almost weekly that way. Of course, pandemic precautions shut the physical doors of our church back in March, and strict social distancing has required that we stay separated. As a result of COVID-19, we lost our rhythm of face-to-face interaction.
A greater divide?
And then, a hurting and weary world fell even further. On May 25th in Minneapolis, at least two men, most notably George Floyd and Derek Chauvin, changed the course of earth’s history forever. They changed my own personal trajectory as well, including what direction the thankful bee went over the past several weeks.
Related content: We Cannot Afford to Be Color Blind; Are We Standing On Solid Ground?; I Most Certainly Am NOT A Racist! Right?!?!
And in an instant it felt like the world wanted my friend and I to stop being Kelly and Melissa. Instead we were now supposed to be Black Woman and White Woman. To make it even rougher, White Woman is marred to White Man with multiple police officers in the extended family.
Holy moly.
Taking the first step.
I will admit to not having a confident idea of how to respond in general during those first 24 hours after May 25th. I texted or messaged several friends of color. My feeble attempt at reaching out was a simple “Hey. Want you to know I care about you and am thinking about you.” I wish I had offered something deeper or more helpful. I honestly was at a loss for the right words. Despite my awkwardness, Kelly responded with a “Hey. Want to get together and take a walk?”
Sigh of relief. Yes. Yes, I do.
And so we met that same Saturday morning to walk at a location of her choosing. Another true confession? I was a little nervous. Oh, not because I held any concern about spending time with Kelly. We have an easy and comfortable rapport. I was nervous because the media had me convinced that someone would stir up trouble seeing Black Woman and White Woman strolling along the lake-side trail at a major county park at the height of all the nation-wide rioting and looting. Black and White: Walking and talking.
I was prepared to stand up for both of us if needed. At least with my words. I wasn’t carrying any type of meaningful physical defense. I guess I could have grabbed and swung a trail-side stick or hurled my water bottle at any would-be trouble. But my body is even more like a noodle post-quarantine than it was before shut down. Besides, my mom always told me that my best weapon was my sharp tongue.
Starting to relax a little.
Our conversation started out as most all of ours do. Jobs. Family. Pop culture. We also briefly covered topics like coronavirus, including Allan’s full recovery. And the ongoing 2020 mask-wearing debate, especially at theme parks which are one of Kelly’s favorite places.
Related post: Coronavirus broke into our house.
My experiences with ugly stuff.
And then I just dove in. I don’t recall exactly how our talk segued into harder things. I brought up the obvious topic we NEEDED to discuss. Kelly and I HAD to talk about it. Mostly, I wanted to support my friend.
So, there we were. Black and White: Walking and talking.
Kelly allowed me to share my own personal experiences with her including some of my past unintentional ignorance. I hoped by being vulnerable in front of her about where I have fallen short that she would feel comfortable maybe sharing her more private life experiences with me.
I told her about my recent education about red lining and the green book. And I told her about some of the ugly things regarding color one extended family member said to Allan and I when we were waiting to adopt. And recalling how my teenage complaint about another much older family member using the “n”-word quickly got shushed because “that’s just how it was back then for their generation”.
Kelly’s experiences with ugly stuff.
Kelly returned in kind, telling me about the first time she realized she looked different than the other kids growing up in her all-white neighborhood. She told a white neighbor that she wished she was white, too. She was five years old.
And then the first time she realized someone ELSE perceived her as negatively as different. She was eight and in second grade. An unfriendly girl growled and barked at her in the elementary school cafeteria because her “skin was black like a dog’s”.
Or the time in high school when her friend on the football team got suspended for two weeks for saying he was going to “lynch so-and-so” with dark skin. When he returned to school, Kelly pressed him about the incident because obviously SHE has dark skin, too. He responded that Kelly was different than so-and-so because she was his friend, and besides she didn’t act “black”. Therefore, Kelly didn’t fall into the same category. In other words, she acted “white” enough to not threaten his status quo. That was in the late 1990s.
A game of “what if” – Scenario #1
Seeing that Kelly was clearly open to having this discussion with me, I broached the hot button subject of police officers. Remember, I married into a family of law enforcement. And I wanted to compare my implicit biases to her implicit biases. Black and White: Walking and talking. No right or wrong answers. Just our own experiences.
Scenario #1. You are caught legitimately speeding, and you pull over for the flashing lights and siren. What is your initial gut reaction as the police officer walks up to your car window?
Me: My initial gut reaction is, “Crap! This is going to cost money I don’t have. What can I say to whittle my consequence down to a warning instead of a ticket?”
Kelly: My instinct is to not speed to avoid contact with the police. Unless it is on the highway, because 65mph on a highway is just dumb. That being said, my initial gut reaction is to be on high alert. Be respectful but very, very cautious.
A game of “what if” – Scenario #2
Scenario #2. We are meeting downtown for dinner. As you cross the plaza to get to the restaurant, there is a police officer on a horse in your path. What is your initial gut reaction?
Me: My initial gut reaction is to approach the officer, thank him (or her) for his service, and ask if I can pet the horse.
Kelly: My initial gut reaction is to avoid the situation and walk a different route to get to the restaurant.
Me: Because of the cop?
Kelly: Because of the horse. I’m not a nature person, remember?
Me: *sigh* Okay, then. Scenario #2.1: We are meeting downtown for dinner. As you cross the plaza to get to the restaurant, there is a police officer on a motorcycle in your path. Now what is your initial gut reaction?
Kelly: I still avoid the officer and walk a different, longer path to meet you.
Me: What if that same officer on his non-nature motorcycle is black? Does that change your answer?
Kelly: Only slightly. I’d still walk a wide berth.
Fascinating, eye-opening stuff for me.
Enjoying a judgement-free zone.
Based on that first Saturday stroll, Kelly and I made a standing date to walk that lake-side trail together every Saturday morning. Last week, she encouraged me to do an extra lap to double our distance to 5+ miles. No way I was going to let the Millennial show me up! Don’t tell her, but I nursed shin splints and a quarter-sized blister for days afterward. Shhhhh!
I am so grateful that Kelly and I are able to connect in person again. Even more so, I am blessed that she allows me to ask questions and share my thoughts about a hard topic without judgement. And I feel fortunate that we can listen and learn from each other. Black and White: Walking and talking.
My prayer for you this weekend is that YOU have someone in your life like Kelly. Someone who doesn’t look like you and who cares about you enough to speak truth in a loving way. Challenge AND grace. We all need both.
My encouragement to you this week is pretty straight-forward. Find your Kelly. Identify that person in your life with whom you can have meaningful hard conversations and still be friends. And then text or message that person. Go take a walk. Meet them for coffee. Above all, listen and learn from each other.
And if you don’t have that person in your life today, then ask God to send him or her your way. Who knows? Your path may cross with a random stranger who also loves marshmallows.
Be encouraged!
Melissa
