The similarities were eerie. New Brighton and Ferguson were both about 20 miles away from my place of domicile at the time. The pictures on TV were all reminiscent of Apartheid: police, armored cars, sirens, flashing lights, rocks thrown, tear gas fired, dogs and batons, people dragged into black paddy wagons. Black people demonstrated and it turned nasty, with looting and burning. I heard many statements that could have been made by an aficionado of Apartheid: “Looters have no respect for property”;“There are legal ways to address the issue”;“Why don’t they go get a job”, the very things I said at one stage of my journey. I felt contempt for these uncomprehending snobs who built a wall of Apartheid-like ignorance around their ivory towers. As South Africa kept whites in ignorance through the Nazi-like propaganda ploys, just so does privilege filter life through the lens of advantage. And that mires the privileged in arrogance.
There was also a rumbling of discontent that would not leave me in peace. There were issues that I had never dealt with, festering sores on the psyche that could only be resolved by lancing to relieve the pressure of decades of pus. I need to tell my story as a catharsis of my own sins, and maybe it will help another pilgrim. A college student once asked to interview me for a paper he was writing on Apartheid. Since I was born and lived under Apartheid in South Africa for over four decades, he thought I might add some zip to his research. His first question was: “Why is the study of Apartheid important?” My mind did a wheel spin. Exactly why was it important? I reflected and then replied: “Because the walls of Apartheid run through every human heart.”
That is what I mean when I say I was born a racist. That inborn tendency is like an addiction. It needs many steps to identify and act in order to be delivered from the addiction. The first implement required in the toolbox of an addict is a mirror. An addict not only lies to everyone but also is actually living a lie inasmuch as he does not think he has a problem. Ferguson was one such mirror that forced me into the realization that I was living in a paradox. Paradox is the examination of a subject from opposite extremes that appear illogical. Thus a new perspective develops, one that opens new horizons; true depth and rich color are thereby revealed. Learning to live with paradox is a constant necessity, and those extremists who insist on a pure black / white environment, cannot expand to enjoy the grey middle ground, where life is actually situated. I was a Pastor in an all-white church that was avowedly anti-racist, yet signs of racism were all around me. Incidents like the Ferguson riots shocked our church community, but generally the shock was momentary and public opinion soon prevaricated and “said let’s wait to her the full story, the police have a difficult and dangerous job,”
Then the process would take months and the agitation would die down and only the activists remembered.
It was conveniently swept under the rug.
progressingpeople 