Monday, July 28, 2014

Newspaper

The Ku Klux Klan does not much worry me. When they get together under the cover of darkness and white sheets, in the flickering light of burning crosses, around heated, hateful speeches, I can see and hear and feel who they are, what they do, and why they are there.

The silent people worry me a lot, though. They don't get together in big groups. They walk around in the light of day in shirts and ties, dresses and heels, t-shirts and tennis shoes. They go to church. They speak in small groups, many small groups in many places. I can't see and hear and feel them.

I think I know what they want, the Klan and the silent people, I do. They want the world to be black and white. They want the black part of the world - colored folks, poor folks, gay folks - to stay in it's place, quiet and powerless. They want the white part of the world - white folks, wealthy folks, straight folks - to stay in charge and powerful.

The Klan yells it loudly.

The silent people whisper it softly.

I know how many yellers there are. I can look them in the eye, stand nose to nose with them and tell them who I am, what I do, and why I am here. I can confront their hatred and fear and injustice with love and understanding and justice.

I don't know how many silenters there are. That's what worries me.

I simply hope there are more folks filled with love, understanding and justice than the Klan and the silent people.