From Ferguson To Zambia

Today I heard the news that the Missouri grand jury—made up of 9 white and three black members—made no recommendation to charge Darren Wilson, the white police officer that shot Black, 18-year-old Michael Brown.  NPR has compiled a list of documents used as evidence before the jury you can see here. The evidence overwhelmingly shows that Brown charged Wilson and that Wilson acted out of self-defense. That’s the information the court heard.  Those are the documents.

But that’s not the truth.

We need to stop accepting the dominant cultural narrative as the truth. We need to stop accepting the information that gets to the courtroom, the major newsrooms, or the cultural creators of the world that are defined by capital and by whiteness. In contrast the voices of Ferguson, MO and Chawama, Zambia remain silent. We hear Darren Wilson’s side of the story, but we can’t hear from Michael Brown because he is lying cold with not one, but six holes in his body.

As the drama and flashiness of this verdict, trial, and even the protests continues, I hope we don’t get bogged down with deciding the truth about the character of either Michael Brown or Darren Wilson. Take a moment and look at the truth in your own life. Look at your own character.

How many of your friends are people of color? How many have you invited to your home? How many have invited you to their home? Have you lived in poverty? Have you experienced police brutality? Does history show your ancestors as slaves?  How many friends or relatives are or have been incarcerated? Are you enjoying privilege? Are you working for justice?

Let me answer these questions myself and let me answer them as I would have before I came to Zambia.

How many of your friends are people of color? Honestly, not many. My friends and family and the majority of people I interact with daily, let alone meaningfully, are white.

How many have you invited to your home? I can barely think of any instances.

How many have invited you to their home? College friends and colleagues.

Have you lived in poverty? No.

Have you experienced police brutality? Never. Even though I cried getting my first (and only!) speeding ticket.

Does history show your ancestors as slaves?  Nope.

How many friends or relatives are or have been incarcerated? Nada.

 Are you enjoying privilege? Yes.

Are you working for justice? Not hard enough.

My life is segregated. My life is different than many Black Americans, who compared to whites are more likely to live in poverty, experience police brutality, and are incarcerated. Every action has a reaction. Every piece of the pie I take, leaves less for the rest. My privilege comes at a cost.

Let Ferguson remind me of this. And not accept the injustice I am living.

My answers to these questions have certainly changed since coming to Zambia. Now I go weeks without seeing another white person. I experience poverty everyday, though I can’t say I live it compared to most of my students. The sad thing is I had to travel halfway around the world to change my segregated, privileged life. I could have driven fifteen minutes into inner city Milwaukee. Will I do that when I get home?

To all, but especially my white family and friends, don’t ignore Michael Brown. Don’t ignore Ferguson. But I think more importantly don’t ignore your own life, your own privilege, your own segregation.

It’s quite humbling and disheartening to come to a different country and then realize how broken your own homeland is.

Please read this blog to find out ways whites can respond to Ferguson.