Black Lives Still F***** Matter
Five years ago, I wrote a blog post about why #blacklivesmatter to me, which I discovered was not received well by a number of people in the white evangelical context I was working in at the time. If you want to read the original post, you can click here.
Three years ago, I invited Chris Pennywell to share with my previous high school students about his personal experience as a Black man in the Central Valley and how his African-American roots is deeply embedded within his Christian faith. Chris was referred to me by his cousin and my former instructor Rici Skei, who is a prominent African-American female pastor and community transformation leader in Fresno that I deeply admire; thus, you can only imagine how excited I was to have him join us. What most people don’t know is that I wanted Chris to help the students understand why Christians support #blacklivesmatter and how they can advocate for the lives of their peers if they want to do so. Unfortunately, I was unable to do so because my supervisors thought it was best for us to avoid that phrase and the BLM movement.
I still remember how disappointed I was when I told Chris we had to change the approach of our conversation. White evangelicalism forced me to filter a theological conversation so that it wouldn't offend people. These two experiences embedded into me that, as a pastor/ministry leader in the evangelical context, it's more important to be silent rather than to stir the pot by discussing justice issues and advocating for movements that I thought to be Kingdom-work. Little did I know though that my silence is in fact complicity with the racism that still exists today.
Three years ago, I invited Chris Pennywell to share with my previous high school students about his personal experience as a Black man in the Central Valley and how his African-American roots is deeply embedded within his Christian faith. Chris was referred to me by his cousin and my former instructor Rici Skei, who is a prominent African-American female pastor and community transformation leader in Fresno that I deeply admire; thus, you can only imagine how excited I was to have him join us. What most people don’t know is that I wanted Chris to help the students understand why Christians support #blacklivesmatter and how they can advocate for the lives of their peers if they want to do so. Unfortunately, I was unable to do so because my supervisors thought it was best for us to avoid that phrase and the BLM movement.
I still remember how disappointed I was when I told Chris we had to change the approach of our conversation. White evangelicalism forced me to filter a theological conversation so that it wouldn't offend people. These two experiences embedded into me that, as a pastor/ministry leader in the evangelical context, it's more important to be silent rather than to stir the pot by discussing justice issues and advocating for movements that I thought to be Kingdom-work. Little did I know though that my silence is in fact complicity with the racism that still exists today.
Fast forward to now, we are still seeing the lives of our Black brothers and sisters taken by police officers and armed citizens. We read stories about Black men and women being profiled and having the cops called on them. Now though, leaders within the white evangelical movement are beginning to speak out and condemn the racially-motivated/racist actions and biases of these officers and armed citizens. On the one hand, I'm happy that they are FINALLY condemning these deaths instead of remaining silent or taking a neutral ground. On the other hand, the pessimist in me who is still recovering from trauma experienced in that context responds, "WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU WHEN TRAYVON MARTIN WAS KILLED? WHERE WERE YOU WHEN ALTON STERLING WAS KILLED? WHERE WERE YOU WHEN MICHAEL BROWN AND ERIC GARNER WERE KILLED? WHERE WERE YOU WHEN PHILANDO CASTILE WAS KILLED?" The rant goes on and on because these past five years I've watched one black life after another be taken and I felt powerless to say or do anything. I can't help but wonder if the white evangelical church's silence regarding police brutality towards the Black community and refusal the validity of the Black Lives Matter movement is the reason why we still see our Black brothers and sisters are still being criminalized, often times to the point of death.
Why do I as a fifth-generation Asian American Christian care so much about the evangelical church's response? One reason is because the evangelical church--particularly the white evangelical church--maintains power and privilege in society today and I think many leaders are directing their power/privilege towards manners that currently have little effect on eternity or God's mission. We are seeing this play out right now as thousands of evangelical pastors intend to defy COVID restrictions for large gatherings because they have deemed the actions of governors as unconstitutional and discriminatory. As American Christians, we have the privilege or "freedom" of being able to gather in a corporate setting on a weekly basis. From my perspective, evangelical pastors and leaders would rather use their power and privilege to decry government orders (which in my opinion are for the good of the public health) rather than speak out and condemn racial biases towards the Black community. When was the last time a prominent evangelical leader held a press conference to discuss racism and discrimination?
Another reason why I care so much about the evangelical church's response is because (1) my personal experience as an Asian American who was a leader in the evangelical church and (2) the collective experience of the Asian American community in America fuels me to do so. PBS recently aired a three-part special about Asian Americans in honor of AAPI Heritage Month. The special covered the experience of various Asian communities within the United States, which started in the mid 19th century when mostly Chinese immigrants crossed over during the Gold Rush. The most significant portion of special was when the historians discussed Asian American involvement during the Civil Rights era and the divide between the conservative Asian community and the more liberal/progressive Asian community. For the Asians that participated in the Civil Rights movement, their main motivation was their desire for the Black community to be included and taste power/privilege in a way that many Asian Americans had the opportunity to taste after the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882 was repealed (in 1943 mind you) and after Japanese citizens were released from the internment camps. Historian Erika Lee concluded the special with the following thought:
"The Asian American story is such a quintessential American story because we, as Asian Americans, have represented the polar extremes of the American experience. The most downtrodden and discriminated against, to rising to positions of power and privilege. To being singled out for exclusion, to being exclusively welcomed, included, and held up, of the very best of America. That is the story of America and that is the story of Asian America."
This quote resonated with me because I feel like it accurately described my life experience. Most of my life I've been able to enjoy several privileges: I grew up in a home with both parents, I went to well-resourced schools, I had a loving church community, my friends never treated me different because of my race/ethnicity, I graduated college without any student loans, and I got the first job I applied for right out of college. I even had the opportunity to be the first Asian American to lead a high school ministry at a prominent church in central Fresno. At the first it felt good to be included on a team of pastors and leaders that were majority White. As time went on though, the inclusion began disappearing. Towards the end of my time at that church I realized that, no matter how much I advocated for myself, there was never going to be a place for me at the leadership table because--whether they would admit it or not--I didn't fit the "model" of what was expected/wanted and didn't look like everyone else on the leadership team. In manner of three and a half years, I felt what it is like to be included and excluded by the powerful and privileged. The myth that I was an example of perfect model minority who would never taste exclusion within the Church had died.
Why do I as a fifth-generation Asian American Christian care so much about the evangelical church's response? One reason is because the evangelical church--particularly the white evangelical church--maintains power and privilege in society today and I think many leaders are directing their power/privilege towards manners that currently have little effect on eternity or God's mission. We are seeing this play out right now as thousands of evangelical pastors intend to defy COVID restrictions for large gatherings because they have deemed the actions of governors as unconstitutional and discriminatory. As American Christians, we have the privilege or "freedom" of being able to gather in a corporate setting on a weekly basis. From my perspective, evangelical pastors and leaders would rather use their power and privilege to decry government orders (which in my opinion are for the good of the public health) rather than speak out and condemn racial biases towards the Black community. When was the last time a prominent evangelical leader held a press conference to discuss racism and discrimination?
Another reason why I care so much about the evangelical church's response is because (1) my personal experience as an Asian American who was a leader in the evangelical church and (2) the collective experience of the Asian American community in America fuels me to do so. PBS recently aired a three-part special about Asian Americans in honor of AAPI Heritage Month. The special covered the experience of various Asian communities within the United States, which started in the mid 19th century when mostly Chinese immigrants crossed over during the Gold Rush. The most significant portion of special was when the historians discussed Asian American involvement during the Civil Rights era and the divide between the conservative Asian community and the more liberal/progressive Asian community. For the Asians that participated in the Civil Rights movement, their main motivation was their desire for the Black community to be included and taste power/privilege in a way that many Asian Americans had the opportunity to taste after the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882 was repealed (in 1943 mind you) and after Japanese citizens were released from the internment camps. Historian Erika Lee concluded the special with the following thought:
"The Asian American story is such a quintessential American story because we, as Asian Americans, have represented the polar extremes of the American experience. The most downtrodden and discriminated against, to rising to positions of power and privilege. To being singled out for exclusion, to being exclusively welcomed, included, and held up, of the very best of America. That is the story of America and that is the story of Asian America."
This quote resonated with me because I feel like it accurately described my life experience. Most of my life I've been able to enjoy several privileges: I grew up in a home with both parents, I went to well-resourced schools, I had a loving church community, my friends never treated me different because of my race/ethnicity, I graduated college without any student loans, and I got the first job I applied for right out of college. I even had the opportunity to be the first Asian American to lead a high school ministry at a prominent church in central Fresno. At the first it felt good to be included on a team of pastors and leaders that were majority White. As time went on though, the inclusion began disappearing. Towards the end of my time at that church I realized that, no matter how much I advocated for myself, there was never going to be a place for me at the leadership table because--whether they would admit it or not--I didn't fit the "model" of what was expected/wanted and didn't look like everyone else on the leadership team. In manner of three and a half years, I felt what it is like to be included and excluded by the powerful and privileged. The myth that I was an example of perfect model minority who would never taste exclusion within the Church had died.
I will never be marginalized or excluded from society like my Black brothers and sisters have been, but my experiences give me the capacity to empathize with their pain, their grief, and their anger. Because of these experiences and because of how Asian Americans across the nation have been targeted since COVID quarantine started, I can't remain silent anymore. My silence is complicity. My silence kills them. I don't know how I'm going to move forward practically, but sharing my heart is the first step. I stand in solidarity with the Black community...and it is without a doubt that Black lives still f**** matter.
Comments
Post a Comment