This is me and two of my favorite girlfriends. Leslie (right) introduced me to Cari (middle) and there is something really special about her. Before anyone gets up in arms about the title of my post, I talked to Cari at length about what SHE PREFERS to be called. Cari has many cultures in her background including African, Egyptian, Caucasian, and Cherokee. Those are the ones I know. There may be more. I found it of great interest that her father's birth certificate listed him as colored (I think), hers said Negro (I think) and one of her children's said African American. But they did not all say that. The point is and I'll correct my mistakes if she corrects me (we've talked about SO MUCH), her skin is one color (that's debatable too, haha) but different generations have been "identified" differently. How confusing! I'm not sure because I never noticed, but I think all the Birth Certs in my family generations either say White or Caucasian. No confusion. Because of Cari's multifaceted history, she prefers to honor that history by being considered a Black American.
I think this post could go on for ages. We'll see where it leads me as I explain WHY I apologized to Cari for something I did not do to her, but to others of her race, while they were doing something to me.
I attended a nearly all white high school in Georgia. 1200 students and I only had one class briefly with one black girl. Choir. There were a handful of other Blacks/African Americans in my entire high school. Some of my family were clearly racist. My grandparents were prejudiced. They didn't like any of the "masses" no matter their color. They simply had a superiority complex. I really had no experience around other colors of people and had no opinions other than what I heard through media, the news, and limited conversations on the topic around my family. One of my favorite friends in high school was Chinese though. Hi Macy!
Well, since Cari and I became close quickly, I began to have all those questions surfacing that I had always wondered about but never knew anyone personally enough to ask. So I've asked her tons of race questions and she has patiently and lovingly explained her view of my questions. As a background, she comes from an amazing family. Her dad was a minister and he helped organized the first Martin Luther King march. She has a PHD in psychology, she and all of her siblings have been arrested for civil disobedience and are proud of it, and I LOVE picking her brain. And laughing hysterically with her on polo.
A few days ago, out of the blue, a memory came to my mind, quickly followed by another. The first memory, was of some high school boys (could have been any color) but they just happened to be black. Since that's what we called them in the 80s that's what I am going with and mean no offense. They stood fixed in the hallway while all the students came around the corner to go to lunch and made what I felt were crude remarks while looking at the backsides of all the girls walking past them. I was offended and enraged, and I think I might have turned them in. I didn't mean for the words to come out, they just did. I was at once horrified and terrified. Under my breath, the words escaped from my lips, "STUPID N's!" On the one hand I was embarrassed and a little ashamed. On the other, I was pretty sure they were going to come after me, but fortunately they either didn't hear, or ignored and laughed at me.
As the memory came up, I felt compelled to apologize to Cari. I won't go into all those details, but she was touched and accepting and forgiving. It meant a lot to her!
The second memory was a few years later, during my freshman year at BYU. I don't remember the class but we watched a film that included an adoption story where the white couple adopted a black baby. This was a new concept to me and I spent some time thinking about it. Then wondering; if I could not have children, would *I* adopt a black baby? I resolved that I would. The color of a baby's skin was not a consideration to me if I were going to have the privilege of rearing any.
But WHY would I feel the need to apologize to Cari. Well, I think partially because of the discussions we've had. Much of what she has told me was simply a backup testimony of bits and pieces I've heard all my life in various places including school, movies, conversations, etc. Others have been from her experiences and her knowledge of the general experiences of many of her race. I don't REALLY know why I thought to apologize, I just DID. But I have a few guesses.
In my coach training, I look for and find articles myself and shared by other coaches on all types of subjects. One that has fascinated me recently is the idea that trauma can be passed down through generations and has been proven through the study of holocaust victims and their children and grandchildren, and actually studying mice. See the following long but fascinating story.
https://discovermagazine.com/2013/may/13-grandmas-experiences-leave-epigenetic-mark-on-your-genes
The second reason that may have affected my apology is, years ago, I went to one of my first seminars, which I can't even remember the seminar, but I had a roommate (Genie) who was telling me about her traumatic background. She shared that some time after her experiences, she was sharing the story with a friend, and the friend stopped her and asked her to please forgive him for what was done to her. Not only was I intrigued but I was deeply touched that someone would be willing to apologize and make a way for forgiveness when it didn't involve them directly at all!
But then I am reminded of Abigail. I've written a few times about her and I won't repeat the info, only to say that she was a type of Christ, asking forgiveness of David for her husband's churlish and stupid actions. Of course the best example of all is the one who paid for and apologized for all the inhumane acts of humanity on our behalf. So, maybe apologizing for or to someone else, isn't a bad idea. Finally, my husband often apologizes to me for things he has not done. I sit down to share a pain or discomfort and he nearly always says, I'm sorry. I usually tell him he doesn't have to apologize but at some level it helps me feel better to know someone feels my sorrow enough to be there with me in it and to apologize how he can.
And then Cari educated me more. So, it's pretty easy to see the remaining devastation of slavery in black communities. What I didn't know was the origin of the destruction of black American families. She told me about the Willie Lynch letter. Something I had never heard about, but is the origin of the term "lynching" and so much more horror. A slave owner from India came to America to lecture them how to keep their slaves from uprising. Break them without killing them and then get role reversals in the family for compliance. Reading about this was almost more than I could take.
Willie Lynch letter
And the affects are seen in so many ways. But maybe those ways are meant for another day. You might ponder whether there are benefits to apologizing in behalf of another. It had a profound affect on my sweet friend and I hope that it could do the same for others. I love you Cari. And Leslie. :-)
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