I am always amazed at how two people can have completely different perspectives and experiences with the same incident. There are times when you hear two people describe the same occasion and if you didn’t know that it was the same occasion you would have thought it was two different ones. I was shocked recently when I changed up a regular running routine and began to see things from a new and somewhat uncomfortable perspective. It also made me better understand, the perspective of others on the issue of race.
It was a perfectly innocent change in my routine not one
that I thought would not make much of a difference but it did teach me a
lesson.
On most weekends, I do the same long trail run in a nearby park.
The run is 8-10 miles so I zigzag almost
every mile of the park. I have been
doing it for years and feel I know every tree, rock, and curve on the path.
Like most people, I am a creature of habit and always go in the same direction. One day I decided to reverse my course and go
in the opposite direction. Almost
immediately, the run felt strange. While
there were some spots that felt the same because they were wide and flat, much
of the trail felt completely new. I
could not recognize much of it. The park
that I thought I knew like the back of my hand was a strange land. My Garmin at the end of my run had the same
distance and elevation change but it was not the same trail. All because I came
at it from a different perspective.
This got me to thinking that we all look at something from
the same perspective, our own perspective.
We can live in the same community, shop in the same stores, and eat in
the same restaurants, but our perspectives may be vastly different about our
communities. Different perspectives can
be illuminating yet they can also be very divisive. Maybe there is no better
example of that, then the perspective of the police and law enforcement in that
of the black and white community.
I always looked at the police as my protectors and in my
small hometown, I grew up knowing many of them by first name. That view was held not just in my hometown
but for all police officers. Once in the
early 1980’s I was lost in the City of Newark trying to visit a friend in the
hospital and seemed to be heading into a tough neighborhood. I was a bit worried until I came upon a
police car and asked for help. The officer
was courteous and helped me get on my way.
He was as I always thought, my protector.
Not too long after that I was fresh out of college and our
manager at our store was holding a work party for his staff up in Sussex County,
New Jersey. A county which was very
rural and one which was not very diverse in it demographics back then and even
today. Our assistant manager, Charles,
who was African American would be the lead car for all of us (This was in the
days long before GPS and directions were hand-written) and it was about ten
cars. Once we crossed into Sussex County
and the roads narrowed Charles slowed down greatly driving ten to fifteen miles
below the speed limit. It took us
forever to get to the managers home. We
all laughed because we thought that he was afraid to lose us. I was kidding him about how slow he was
driving and he confessed to me that as a black man he could not take a chance
with the police, particularly in this area. I was a bit taken back, because
that is something I could not fathom, and I had to respect Charles because he
was a hard working family man who was very straight-laced.
This was the first time I came across anyone who thought
differently about police officers, but it would not be the last. There were several times over the years in
which an African American in just a casual conversation brought these incidents
up not because we were talking about race or anything, but that it was a way of
life.
I remember one time vividly, because we were discussing
where to hold a meeting and the one African-American gentleman Art, suggested a
location in an urban area. I mentioned
that the attendees from the suburbs may be reluctant to go to that area and we
were trying to get as many people to attend as possible. He shot back at me “Ray, I am tired of that excuse. Do you know that I get pulled over
almost every time I enter ______ town!”
Now Art was a very religious, respected community man, and I did not
know anyone who thought otherwise.
Lesson learned on my part.
As our country once again has a heated national conversation
on race, often centered on police encounters, I think back to all these
conversations. While the Black Lives Matter movement seems new to
many in the white community, It has been fermenting for some time. I think that with advent of social media and
video clips of incidents, gas was added to the fire and a match was lit.
All these moments came flooding back to me on my “reverse
run” about the different perspectives on race.
Interestingly enough, I have tried to make it a habit that I reverse my
route to see if I can change my perspective and feel comfortable on the
route. However, while some parts do feel
comfortable, there are still parts I feel like it is a strange new park. This is another lesson. No matter how much I think I can understand
the perspective of someone black, I have to understand I am white so my
understanding can only go so far.
There was another lesson here though. Yes, a change of laws at the national, state,
and local level will probably come. There will also be sensational news stories
on the cable news networks as well as social media, but that will give you only
so much understanding. If you want a
real understanding of race relations, you need to have conversations with individuals
of different races. Just casual
conversations in which everyone is honest and comfortable, not necessarily
about race especially as a conversation starter. I learned the most about race that way. I also learned because I was listening. That is where our country can make the most
improvement in our race relations. Not
just in the chambers of capitol buildings, but at kitchen tables at home or
cafeteria tables at work.
The value of these conversations works both ways. On one incident I was working with a woman
who was of Dominican descent, and through our conversation she then asked me,
“Can I ask you something as white man?” I was shocked that she wanted to know
what was in the mindset of white men. Yet it was obvious she was searching for
clues. Another lesson learned about the reinforcement of the power of
conversations.
The final lesson is that this realization came to me, via a
simple act that felt strange and uncomfortable just by reversing my route. It seems simple to have conversations with
individuals of a different race or ethnicity, but it will take you out of your
comfort zone if you, like many of us, live in segregated communities, but it is
not hard to do. Just like it was a simple
act to reverse my route. It not only
gave me a new perspective but expanded my perspectives.
It has enriched my life experiences having conversations
with people of different races and ethnicities.
I think it will enrich your life too.
