On Saturday, October 17th, I was in the midst of my normal "pilot wife routine": racing to get the apartment cleaned up, sheets washed, and meal prepped before my husband’s arrival following a week away. Even after 15 years of marriage, it seems I’m always hurrying, trying to make everything “perfect” before Sam walks in the door! Not that he expects it, or asks that of me, but I know how nice it is to return to a clean, well-organized home after being “on the road,” especially during Covid-19.
So, in between laundry loads, salad spinning, dishes, and the likes, I “hopped on” email for a quick check: that’s when I saw Betty Brandt’s forwarded story about the “Youth Voices Matter” rally happening that very moment in downtown Indy.
I had met with Betty recently and shared with her my desire to participate in protests regarding social justice and, specifically, Black Lives Matter. When major protests were first held downtown following the murder of George Floyd, I wanted to participate but was hesitant to go. My reasons were many: I’m not familiar with downtown (having recently moved here), I didn’t have “a buddy” to go with me, I didn’t know where to park (being uncertain as to where the events would start and finish), and I didn’t know what to do if I found myself in a situation where I needed help (without family or close friends nearby). While these things felt like legitimate concerns, was it really just fear?
The one social justice event I had participated in was the July “Bike to Be Heard” ride in Zionsville (where I ended up in the IU North Emergency Room following a face plant on Michigan Road)! Ironically, while I felt “safe” attending that event--since I was familiar with the route--I left with a nice scar on my chin to prove otherwise. (Good time for face masks to be in fashion.) It’s not lost on me that I was unafraid to rally in Zionsville (a predominantly white community), whereas I was a little nervous demonstrating downtown.
As I looked at the clock on Saturday, I realized I had already missed the bulk of the event: it was almost 1:00pm and the rally ended at 2:00pm. I now had a choice to make: I could either: (1) finish my routine and have the place perfectly tidy, as usual, when my “honey” returned home; or (2) leave the sheets thrown on the bed, dishes on the counter, and floor unvacuumed while I set out.
In that moment I realized I can “housekeep” or I can help. I also realized my white privilege gave me the freedom to choose.
With that sudden awareness, I dropped everything, made a quick sign, grabbed some cash (for parking) and headed downtown to join the Youth Rally.
Upon arriving, I feared I’d already missed the event as the Statehouse steps were empty and groups were dispersing. As a result, I found a parking spot right in front of the capitol. I got out of my car only to discover that the parking meter required an app, of which I couldn’t remember my password (of course). After not finding a parking alternative, I decided to simply “take my chances” (leave the parking meter unpaid) and see if anything was still going on. As I approached the west side of the capitol, I discovered the event (of about 100 people) still underway. Hallelujah!
The gathering of people was diverse and very moving: the youth organizers (who appeared to be around 8-18 years), created banners, sang songs, and read original poems and writings. Their messages inspired us to be true to our higher selves in creating a world of justice for all. Teachers seconded their calls. A rep from “Nasty Women Indy” challenged attendees to act, to do something – rather than just show up to rallies to feel better. The lovely force who is Belinda Drake, candidate for Indiana state senate, stood side-by-side with students calling on everyone to work towards a better world for the next generation.
Some of the signs folks carried read:
- “Racial Equality”
- “RBG”
- “Climate Justice”
- “BLM”
- “White Silence = White Violence”
One of my favorites was that of a boy (probably around 11 or 12 years old) whose homemade sign said, “Quality Men support Equality for Women.” Wow! The banner that most clearly reflected the power of the day was “You are Never too Young to Fight for what is Right.” I think of Greta Thunberg and Malala Yousafzai and the monumental impact these young people are making on the world. “Out of the mouths of babes…”
More than anything said or seen, though, I was struck by a spirit of unity. Just watching, listening and learning, I felt a sense of community, similar to the sense of purpose and hope I’ve experienced through St. Luke’s during this time of national trauma. How strange that a pandemic, with its resulting closures and physical isolation, could actually be the vehicle to open up my world and connect me to my brothers and sisters of color and the church in a way I’ve never known.
Several years ago I remember reading that Shonda Rhimes, ABC’s “Queen of Television” and creator of the hit shows Gray’s Anatomy and Scandal, committed to a Year of Yes (the title of her memoir). After being “called out” by her sister and closest friend, Rhonda boldly decided to accept every amazing opportunity and invitation that came her way rather than following her old thought patterns and -- clearly, fears -- which often led to a habit of saying “no.” This intentional act of choosing YES radically changed her life, leading to growth and joy, rather than simply success.
I’m very grateful to be part of the anti-racism community at St. Luke’s that is challenging me to look at my thoughts, behaviors and fears and is leading me to think and act in new ways. Thanks, Betty, for giving me an opportunity to speak up and say YES.
