Encountering Racism

Growing up, I was not very aware of racial matters. Or maybe more to the point, I wasn’t exposed to racism, except in rare instances. The first time I realized that some people had problems with skin color was when I was visiting family members in Pennsylvania. As some boys walked up the hill past my grandmother’s house, the adults started talking about how “they” were taking over the neighborhood. When I asked who “they” were, they whispered, “The Negroes.” To me, that didn’t make any sense. What difference did it make what color people were? Plus, since they whispered it to me, I know that they knew it shouldn’t matter.

Years later I discovered the irony behind that statement. My Pennsylvania relatives were of Italian descent. My grandparents had immigrated here from Italy at a time when the Italians were considered “those people who were taking over the neighborhood.” Italians were shut out of business and social opportunities. How quickly they had forgotten their history. Our history.

At home, my parents didn’t talk much about race or implications of it. There was one family in our town that I knew of that was Black. I don’t know how much of a difference it made in being accepted, but the brothers played football, and played it well. Their sister was in my grade, although we didn’t meet until junior high, and we ran in different circles.

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It wasn’t until I was a student at Wittenberg University that I began to understand how hard it could be to be Black in the United States. There was a building on campus officially known as “The Black House” because it was a gathering place for Black students. Sadly, there were some white students who resented this. There were some public discussions about renaming it, or just getting rid of the house. The words used weren’t always very kind.

In the midst of this, my theater class professor guided us into a conversation about racism. Looking back, I realize he must have planned this, but at the time, it seemed rather spontaneous. For the first time, I heard from Black classmates about the challenges they faced daily, just because of their skin color. One of the students said this was the first time he felt safe talking about it. It shocked and dismayed me.

I can’t say it made me an activist, but I certainly began examining my own behavior more carefully. Over the years I learned how even innocently made statements could be filled with racial implications. For example, I don’t think I can ever use the phrase “low hanging fruit” after hearing the song, “Strange Fruit.” Here’s the link to Billie Holiday singing it: https://youtu.be/dnlTHvJBeP0

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To my shame, I didn’t press matters related to racism in the congregations I served. It didn’t seem necessary. Looking back, I think that many of the folks would have welcomed more opportunities to discuss issues. What shook me to my core and finally made me realize that it was necessary and important to speak against racism was when Dylann Roof massacred nine people just because of their skin color. He did this in a church, during a prayer meeting to which he had been welcomed. It hit close to home for many reasons, including the fact that Roof had been raised attending a Lutheran congregation.

I decided I needed to learn more and do more. A local neighborhood inter-faith organization, ACTION, happened to be forming a monthly gathering for pastors. Whether by accident or design the topic for that first year was focused on racism. It was truly a blessing to gather with these faith leaders, some who were Jewish, some who were Islamic, and some who were Christian. I gained a number of new friends that I would never have encountered in my Lutheran circles, or within my little bubble surrounding the congregation I served.

While I served as Director for Evangelical Mission in the Northeastern Ohio Synod -ELCA I participated in the synod’s cultural conversations, later renamed “One Body, Many Members: Anti-racist conversations.” That continued to open my eyes, and I look forward to re-connecting with that group at a later time.

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A final story: Near me is a building that once was home to a Lutheran congregation. It closed about 14 years ago. One of the reasons they closed was that the neighborhood around them was changing and they weren’t able to change to keep up. From their council minutes in 1923 comes a report that makes me wonder if there wasn’t something more ingrained in their history. I keep a copy of it to remind me that racism isn’t new, and the need to be anti-racist is urgent.

From October 31, 1923: A special meeting was held at the parsonage. Members of council present were (names omitted here). At the invitation of Rev. Trout, Dr. Kohler, president of the synod of Ohio was present and discussed with the Council the subject “What should be our attitude toward the Ku Klux Klan.” He recommended that each one be left entirely free to either unite, or not unite with the society. His plea is “Let nothing divide your Church.” (words underlined in original document)

I have to think that if anything should divide a church, perhaps it is a debate over the KKK and if members are free to unite with it? I don’t know how large of a problem it was, but if even one member wanted to join the KKK, that was a problem.

I’ve since learned that on November 1, 1924 (one year later) there was a march planned by the KKK in Youngstown. A counterdemonstration took place which led to a riot that lasted 18 hours. Clearly, racial matters were a big concern in the area.

I’ve delayed publishing this because I lacked an ending. The reality is that there is no ending to fighting racism. So, we press on to strive to be the true Body of Christ, with many members who love one another and who are willing to challenge this thing called racism.