Silence

I am ashamed.
Today I went to an informal gathering of lovely ladies who meet to knit, chat, share treats, and enjoy each other's company.
I don't really know anyone well as I have only just started attending. Most of the talk is of children, grandchildren, vacations, and, of course, knitting.
But today the discussion veered into sensitive territory.
There is a controversy in Knoxville, a town not too far from here, over a veterans memorial that shows a kneeling soldier praying in front of a cross. Understandably, there have been complaints regarding the use of a religious symbol on public property.
This was not the sentiment I heard expressed today.
The consensus of these ladies was that it was ridiculous to complain, the cross is meaningful to people, why should it have to be removed because a few didn't like it?
I remained silent.
I could have brought up the need for separation of church and state; that the display of any religious symbol on government property is tantamount to an endorsement of that religion. I could have even asked the ladies if they would have felt the same if a symbol of Islam or Judaism was placed on government property.
But I didn't.
I ducked my head and continued to knit.

I am most ashamed, however, that I remained silent when talk turned to the Confederate flag and its symbolism. It was generally agreed in this group of white upper middle class, middle-aged women that the flag stands for "so much more than just slavery" and removing the flag from government buildings is "depriving people of their heritage."

Over the past several years I have learned so much about systemic racism in the United States. I have read and studied "The New Jim Crow," by Michelle Alexander, and learned that my state, Iowa, is among the top three states for disproportionate incarceration of blacks.
I've learned that black people are harassed, profiled, and arrested at much higher rates than white people in this country; and shockingly, black men (and women) have been victims of police murder seemingly on a weekly, if not daily basis.
I've been reading "Dear White Christians," by Jennifer Harvey, a book that has forced me to recognize that while I did not create our system of white privilege, I certainly have benefited from it, and therefore bear responsibility for its continued existence.
I am involved in a developing social justice outreach through my church, First Unitarian of Des Moines, and will continue learning by studying and discussing the book"Witnessing Whiteness; The Need to Talk about Race and How to do it," by Shelley Tochluk, this fall.

I knew better.
But I stayed silent.
How could I have sat in this group and not presented the other side?
I could have delicately reminded the group that the Confederate flag is a symbol of slavery. Period. The South fought the Civil War not for some noble cause, but to continue the institution of slavery. Flying the Confederate flag on government buildings - a government that is supposed to guarantee freedom to all people regardless of color - is simply wrong.

I am ashamed that I sat there, numb and unable to speak.
No, I was unwilling to speak.
And that was so very wrong.
Today I am ashamed that I said nothing.
I hope another time I won't be so afraid to speak up.