I Didn't Break The Cookie Jar

Young children practice interesting behaviors in a number of situations. One of the most common is expecting their words to bridge the chasm between reality and what they want reality to be. Often, even before being questioned, a young child will provide an answer to distance themselves from reality. "No, I didn't do it." "No, I wasn't playing with matches." "No, I didn't leave the door open." "No, I didn't break the cookie jar."

 It is as though their words will function as a magic wand to resolve an undesirable situation. Hopefully, they soon learn from experience that personal desire does not empower words with magical powers, and the ability of parents and older siblings to reason prevents them from being as gullible as hoped. 

Unfortunately, there are adults who never learned that denying a behavior does not make it true. They continue to believe that regardless of the context their declarative statements have the capacity to alter reality. In conversations with persons from the dominant group on the complex construct of race, it is surprising how quickly someone will say "No, I'm not racist" without any charge having been made. It is as a single statement of negation will resolve the situation discussed thereby ending additional comments.

No, people, that is not how it works. Conversations on race are not personal attacks on you. They are opportunities for you to listen and learn about the corrupt system devised on flawed science and flawed theology to benefit those of European ancestry while denying that other persons were also created in the image of God. Since its construction it has continued to evolve to castrate efforts to effectively address it. 

Consequently, one person denying the he/she is racist does nothing to address the systems that have perpetuated white supremacy for four hundred years. 

There is no doubt. The cookie jar is clearly broken. Will you risk being cut by picking up the broken shards and working with me to clean up this mess? Otherwise, our children -- yours and mine -- will continue to walk on broken glass.