In Memory of George Floyd

Dear Berry Community:

It is a raw and disturbing image: the knee of a white police officer pressing against the neck of a black man lying face down on the pavement. The image records a bitter truth: the officer and his colleagues ignoring George Floyd as he pleads over and over that he cannot breathe, until he loses consciousness.

This image has galvanized our nation because it also symbolizes a long and brutal history: the knee of the white establishment pressed hard against the necks of black men and women. For decades, people of color have pleaded that the structures imposed on their communities have made it impossible for them to breathe freely. Too often, those in positions of authority and power have ignored or responded superficially to their appeals for help and fairness.

Those of us in the white community sometimes look with disapproval at these appeals because they take a form that we judge unacceptable. Rosa Parks takes a seat at the front of a bus. Colin Kaepernick takes a knee during the National Anthem. A crowd chants in Lafayette Park. We take offense. But before we condemn the methods of those who protest, we should first think hard about the injustice of silence and those three officers who said nothing while George Floyd cried out desperately for help.

The cries of anguish we hear from our African-American friends and neighbors are genuine and heart-wrenching. I heard one commentator say that every black parent he knew could not help but picture the face of their own son or daughter under that knee. That’s a perspective I needed to hear and consider repentantly.

This summer at Berry is uncommonly quiet. In many ways, it seems a tranquil harbor, a place of safety. Even here, however, we need to be attentive to the undercurrents of distress. For the last several years, a group of students has organized “Solidarity Week,” a series of events designed to facilitate conversation and insight about uncomfortable issues related to race and difference. Last fall’s event included a chapel service of lament, a time of truth-telling and remorse. I was particularly moved by one student, a well-liked athlete, who spoke of his difficult high school years in a Georgia community and how glad he was to be at a place like Berry where he was accepted and respected. But even at Berry, it turned out, he experienced moments of real pain and frustration as friends categorized him in certain ways simply because he was black. It was a troubling insight. Many of us experience Berry as a warm and caring place, but we must not take that for granted. We must help make it so for others as well, no matter our apparent differences, no matter our color.

A month ago, I read an essay by Lecrae, the recording artist and songwriter, discussing the importance of listening to one another’s stories. “The stories we share,” he wrote, “are not simply about facts and propositions. Sharing stories means sharing emotions and rendering ourselves vulnerable to others. And we can recognize the full range of emotions in our stories. Constructive anger leads to passionately fighting for the rights of the marginalized; destructive anger leads to burning buildings and rioting.”

Lecrae asks us to listen to others even when we find their stories disturbing. His words were written many months before the events of this past week. Anticipating a moment such as this, he explains: “it’s actually easier for us to believe a false narrative that fits our outlook on the world than a true narrative that shakes and shatters our perspective. And that is true regardless of where we stand.” That applies to you and me alike; we are all part of a broken humanity and prone to categorizing and typecasting others.

Friday night, responding to violence in Atlanta and elsewhere, Reverend Bernice King, daughter of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., conveyed a similar message. “The end goal is we want change and we want it now…let’s stay focused [on nonviolence and peace] and remember: everybody is not on the same page. There are people who will try to incite a race war in this country. Let’s not fall into their hands and into their trap. There’s another way…Let’s not go back to business as usual. Let’s deal with these issues that people are crying out of their soul and their spirit…”

Berry has always emphasized an education of the whole person: head, heart and hands. When it comes to matters of race in America, we need just this sort of an education. We need to understand the societal structures and personal narratives that perpetuate racial injustice and insensitivity. We need to build bridges through generous actions and intentional friendships. And those of us in the white community need to listen receptively and respectfully to the heartache and rage of our African-American neighbors, if we hope for them to listen to some of the wounds and sorrows we carry.

In this way, we can learn how our words, actions, and attitudes must change. We can work to establish the kind of caring community that allows people of different backgrounds, interests and experiences to flourish side by side, regardless of race or ethnicity. We can make this one of our abiding institutional goals.

This past weekend, students and others here at Berry for the summer met outside the College Chapel, mindful of social distancing, to share their stories, express their anguish, and mourn our nation’s history of racial injustice. They plan to meet regularly this summer to create a safe place for those wanting to build bridges of understanding and deep friendship. Various student groups are working with professional staff to provide means for students, while away for the summer, to join this safe place virtually to grieve and consider these issues intently with others in the Berry community. Watch your email for more information.

It is fitting that this gathering occurred at the Chapel, for Berry has been shaped by values that are grounded in faith, values that emphasize a receptive mind, a generous heart, and hands willing to serve. As we look toward the fall semester and the prospects of a challenging election year, will you please join me in holding ourselves to an appropriately high standard as expressed in Paul’s Letter to the Ephesians (4:1-2): “To walk in a manner worthy of the calling with which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, showing tolerance for one another in love.”

Sincerely,

Steve Briggs

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