I Am Not Brave

 Many years ago, I spent a few days in Brooklyn with a friend who was there for work.  Her company paid for the room, so I had a free place to stay and an opportunity to explore Manhattan at my leisure while she worked.  On one blisteringly hot August day, I decided to duck into a movie theater for a mid-day show to take a break from the heat and get off my feet  For the life of me, I cannot remember what movie I saw.  But I will never remember how it ended.

At least, how it ended for me.  About halfway through, the film cut off, and the theater went dark.  An employee told everyone to exit the theater and descend the steps to the lobby.  This particular movie theater was in a narrow but very tall building that housed one theater per floor.  There were 14 theaters in total, and I was in lucky #13. 

I’ll spare you the details of the descent.  Suffice it to say that about halfway down we became engulfed in smoke.  By the fifth floor, many of us pulled our shirts up over our faces in an attempt to filter the air.  At the fourth floor, I couldn’t hear because of the crying children.  We made it to the third floor but couldn’t go further.  I was scared out of my mind.

So scared, in fact, that I think I might have stepped on the face of a child to get myself out of there.  In that moment of terror, I might have done anything to save my life.

Fortunately, I didn’t have to make such a choice.  A fireman came towards us and directed us down to the bottom floor where a door was opened into the flooded lobby.  We walked arm in arm helping each other wade through what was now a small lake and exit into the outside world.  Sweet, sweet, beautiful air. 

I felt many things in that moment.   Gratitude.  Exhaustion.  Incredible relief.  But I also felt great shame.  I am not brave.  I had to admit that in that moment of frightening uncertainty, I would have done anything to escape.  I don’t think I would have stopped to help someone else if it could have impaired my own ability to get out.  I think I might have allowed harm to come to another person – or possibly even inflicted it myself –  if it meant I could get to freedom.  I am not brave.  That was the refrain that punctuated all my other thoughts for months afterwards. 

I am not brave.  I have not been an active part of the #BlackLivesMatter movement.  I have not used my writing to champion anti-racism.  I have not publicly said or done anything recently to further social justice causes I believe in.  I am not brave.  My fear of offending others, saying the wrong thing, upsetting the apple cart is a thick, dense smoke that has filled my lungs these past few months. 

Fire is a funny thing.  Did you know that you can start a fire with ice?  Since that’s true, perhaps even a coward can contribute to a cause.

1. I stand in support of the #BlackLivesMatter movement.  Yes, all lives matter, but I believe it’s important for me to say that black lives matter right now because that’s a truth that this moment in history is calling us to affirm. The BLM label has been co-opted by groups with destructive political agendas and violent intentions, which I despise. I use BLM as a phrase that means exactly what it says.
2. I believe that there are challenges I have not had to face in my life because I am white.  That doesn’t mean that I haven’t had great difficulties or that my life is “easy.”  That doesn’t mean that I haven’t worked hard for my accomplishments or I don’t deserve the recognition I’ve earned.  To be a beneficiary of majority privilege does not negate the fact that I’m a badass high-achiever deserving of a healthy dose of admiration.
3. I believe that characterizing all police as cruel is as flawed as characterizing all black women as angry welfare queens, all white men as entitled misogynists, or all Catholic priests as pedophiles.  I value my Catholic faith even though I believe the institutional Church could benefit from changes changes in structures and teachings. Similarly, I applaud the heroism of many members of the police force while supporting efforts of the institution to study the issues at hand and implement changes that are needed.
4. I have no idea whether police departments, ICE, or any other organization needs changes in how their services are budgeted, but “defunding” sounds very irresponsible. You can say, “Oh, we don’t mean “no funding; we mean re-allocated funding,” but no matter how that the term is defined, I think a scalpel is more useful than a bazooka when it comes to making decisions about financial priorities.  I believe only professionals well versed in the intricacies of these fields can determine appropriate funding. 
5. I believe that even when I am trying to do what I think is “right,” I will screw it all up.  I will say the wrong thing.  I will offend someone I don’t want to hurt.  I will demonstrate my ignorance on any number of topics.  But as I have recently come to understand, not saying something is saying something.  It’s better to champion a cause poorly than not to do it at all.

I am not brave.  But I no longer want my cautious nature and aversion to risk keep me from being the best coward I can be.  I am not brave.  But I am also not finished.  There are other fires to fight.