Letter from a Recovering Racist

It all started with books.

As soon as I learned to read, my world began to change.

When I was born, my world was small.

I grew up in the Deep South. Fields for miles. Mosquitoes big enough to drain you dry.

I lived in the middle of nowhere. Everyone around me looked just like me.

Until I started kindergarten.

As I grew older, I learned beside people who didn't look like me. But as time went on, the lines were drawn in the sand. We were "us" and they were "them."

The lines were drawn with words, attitudes, and beliefs.

Were there big explosions of speech and blatant actions? Yes.

But most were whispers.

It's easy to deny a whisper. A look. A thought. An idea. But many whispers together make a lot of noise.

And the sound was deafening.

The older I grew, the more books I read. Although I interacted daily with people not like me, I never listened to their voices.

Not in person.

But I read.

I read and I read and I read.

I read books from different places, from the past, from the present. Men, women, black, white: anything I could get my hands on.

My world grew a little bigger.

And I began to notice things and think, "That's not right."

I would think, "That's not right!" and, "How could anyone do that?" and, "I would definitely stand up and say something!"

As I sat quietly ... often adding whispers myself.

Flash forward, when I left my small town to attend summer camps and college.

I met even more people who weren't like me. People who definitely didn't think like me.

The challenges began. I almost couldn't take it. I was so angry.

I was mad and I was right - I KNEW I was right.

But I was wrong.

I grew a little older and I kept reading.

I read and I read and I read.

Books by people I loved and books by people I didn't.

And then I took the one book - the Good Book - that had been quoted to me, in whispers, all of my life.

And I read and I read and I read.

I began to see that it said some things I hadn't been told it said.

I'd been taught about grace and forgiveness and those things were good and they were TRUE.

But I discovered new things. Things about justice and mercy. Things important to God and things that should be important to me.

My heart began to soften. My heart began to break.

I cried out to the Lord, "What does this mean, God? What does this mean for me? What have I done? What can I do better? God please FORGIVE ME!"

And God gave me His Word.

And God gave me books.

And I read and I read and I read.

And I kept reading.

And I keep reading.

And I keep listening.

And I keep learning.

And I keep praying.

And I keep begging God to show me Truth.

To keep changing my heart.

Because I don't know everything. I constantly mess up. I daily put myself before others.

But God doesn't leave me in these places. He doesn't leave me in my sin. He calls me to repentance and I say right now: I REPENT!

I repent for my racist behaviors. For my hurtful words, attitudes, and ideas. I repent for all of the times I sat silently by, or worse, when I joined in.

I am not innocent and I will be the first to admit it.

I thank God every day that he offers forgiveness to me and He has been patient with me as I've grown the last 32 years.

And I thank God for books.

For God's Word, most of all.

Because words are powerful. Words can hurt and destroy, but they can also heal and restore.

So I'll keep reading.

I will read and I will read and I will read.

And I will shout instead of whisper.

Because God has been so good to me.