A Return to Golgotha…
Roughly a year ago, I wrote my first piece for Medium, entitled “American Golgotha”…
I won’t rehash all of what I wrote there.
And this isn’t going to be a long piece.
I’m often accused of focusing too much on the bad in this world, and not enough on the good. And that’s an assessment that I take to heart. One might be surprised how often I agree with the people who hate me.
I haven’t dedicated myself to the cause of truth and reconciliation because I want to do it. Educating myself about the violence of white supremacy, and trying to share that knowledge, exacts a toll on me that is hard for me to explain to myself let alone others. And I have to constantly remind myself to continue to see Christ in every person who calls me a “racist”, or says I just want to “cause trouble”, or wants to harm me and my family.
Like a nation of Pilates, I see hands being washed of blood all the time.
“It’s not about race, it’s about mental health.”
“It’s not about race, it’s about sex addiction”
“It’s not about race, you just hate white people”
“It’s not about race, you just want to destroy America”
“It’s not about race, YOU’RE the RACIST!”
And still, every one of those people are also Christ.
And I hate that.
The same impulse that makes me see Christ in the lynched Black body of Michael Brown and quite literally countless others… that makes me see Christ in the kid exiled from their “Christian” home because they are who God made them… that makes me see Christ in my fellow Asian Americans who are being demonized because it is convenient to do so…and that makes me unable to un-see the hypocrisy of white America claiming that they are the ones being crucified … is the same impulse that forces me to look at the people who are doing that crucifying and say “forgive them, for they know not what they do”… even when it’s clear that they know EXACTLY what the fuck they are doing.
And I hate that.
Because it would be much easier if I didn’t have to carry that cross.
I was going to minimize that statement, saying that what I’m feeling here is “not as bad” as what others have to go through, but… well… fuck that.
I know it’s not, and it never will be.
But I also know how I feel.
And I’ll still carry it, because it’s the right thing to do.
But don’t tell me it’s not as heavy as I feel it is…
In love and solidarity,
Your friendly neighborhood Rice Traitor
