Sunday, August 20, 2017

Monday Morning


  You know what worries me? It's not that a group of racist idiots lit some tiki torches and decided to rally. 
What worries me is what happens on Monday morning.
I worry that on Monday they'll go back to their job in human resources and decide who gets hired and who gets fired.
They'll put their uniform back on and profess to 'serve and protect.'
They'll sit on a jury and decide the fate of a young person of color.
They'll teach in a kindergarten class or work in a preschool program. 
They'll teach a US History class.
They'll sit across from a couple, who came to this country, worked hard and saved, and have the power to approve or deny them a loan to purchase their first home.
They'll decide an insurance claim.
They will work in a nursing home or healthcare facility.
They'll give an estimate to repair the brakes on a mother's only mode of transportation to get to work each day.
They will teach a Sunday School class next Sunday. 
I don't stay up lamenting the fact that racists feel emboldened to parade in the street. I stay up because racists have, do, and will apply their racist beliefs in their daily lives, and by extension mine, and they don't do it carrying a banner to distinguish themselves. They walk among us everyday. It isn't the theatrical that worries me. It's the everyday practical.