May 2020 was a sad month in American history, but hopefully one that results in the change for a better tomorrow for our children. On Monday, May 25th a black man, George Floyd, was killed by four police officers in Minneapolis, Minnesota. A ten minute video was watched by millions as a white officer knelt on Mr. Floyd's neck as he cried, "I can't breathe", "Mama", "I'm going to die", "It hurts" repeatedly until he suffocated and died. A black man's life being taken so in humanely sparked an uproar in Minnesota and across the country. The black community is fed up with the blatant racism that is taking the lives of black people because of the color of their skin. They are tired of living in fear for their children to go outside on a jog or go to the park and hangout with friends. They are tired of their constant and consistent plea for equal rights, treatment, and consideration and not being heard by the people of power. Their non-black counterparts are tired too. We are sickened by the treatment and lack of opportunity of our black brothers and sisters. Enough is enough.
In response to a history of oppression and the killing of George Floyd, peaceful and passionate protests were planned and executed across the country. Unfortunately, many of the protests turned into violet riots that resulted in looting of businesses, graffiti on public and private property, burning of corporations and small businesses, and the injury and death of rioters and police officers. In Salt Lake City, Utah, my home state, rioters flipped two cars and set them on fire, tagged property with vile statements, broke windows on cars and businesses, and threatened the safety of police and private citizens. While I sympathize and support those who exercised their first amendment right to peacefully protest, I do not support those who destroyed property, engaged in physical brutality, and cost business owners the ability to support their families. I've read and watched interviews of the leaders of people of color advocacy groups plead with the public to let their voices be heard in peaceful and meaningful protest. The leaders encourage supporters to vote, sign petitions, participate in organized and peaceful demonstrations, work with local political leaders, educate yourself and others on the history of oppression in Black America, and to donate to reputable change organizations. With the rioting, the real purpose for protest was lost. The the media, the public, and the rioters focuse changed from Black rights to what gets most followers on social media, the biggest audience on the 5 o'clock news, and what might go viral on the internet. Unfortunately, the oppression of black people and the death of black lives became secondary to attention seeking rioters.
I too, lost focus of the real problem. I found myself staying up all night watching the rioting and the clips of fires, looting, conspiracy theories, and "news worthy" captions and photos. I found myself worried for my excellent, white, police officer friend, who is almost like a brother, and his family, who was on duty the night of the riots and at risk to oppose radical rioters. I felt the anger grow with a pit in my stomach. I found myself being consumed with anger of the loss of property, the privileged non-black looters who were posing and twerking for pictures, the ignorant anti-protesters posting racist and insensitive replies on news reports, and the news outlets showing the same photos and clips of violence rather than the peaceful protests in other cities. I was distracted by the "show" and lost focus of the primary problem, the people who are hurting and the voices of the unheard. I decided I needed to do something to enact change in me, my home, my community, and the world. In order to change me, I need to examine me. What experiences drive my personal biases? What do I want to change? What is my hope for the future? What are my blessings? What are my burdens?
I woke up the next day and saw many of my friends sharing a short video published by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. The main idea was that we are all different, different is the plan, we should embrace our differences, and yet we should unite as one. We are brothers and sisters who share common dreams, hopes, and challenges. We are human and our fundamental purpose is the same. I started to refocus and think about my own family. I realized that my entire life, our differences have been embraced. Even if we wanted to be the "same" as everyone else, our heritage and race were honored. Race and the color of our skin was never something to be ashamed of or embarrassed of. My little white mama was way ahead of her time. When my little sister tried to wash her brown skin away in the bathtub, she told her how lucky she was to have brown skin and brown eyes. She said people paid a lot of money to have beautiful brown skin and told us she would trade us if she could. She made us attend heritage camps, bought us brown and Asian dolls, dressed us in culturally traditional clothing, and taught lessons at church and adoption classes that differences in skin color doesn't mean differences in the heart and in the soul. Everywhere she went she proudly announced that all 11 of us were her kids. You know, I always remember being different from others, but I never remember feeling less than others. So, I was raised in a home where color was so embraced that color blindness resulted. I am lucky.
Did we feel racism and discrimination? Absolutely. I remember the first time I saw how racial divide affected me directly. I sitting in sociology class in 12th grade. The teacher said, "Raise your hand if you would date and marry outside your race." I raised my hand and fully expected to see 30 other hands go up. I looked around and I honestly don't know how many people raised their hand, not many. However, I do remember seeing two of my male friends, who I love and respect and probably had a crush on at the time, look me in the eye and tuck their hands down under the desk. It stung, it hurt, and I could tell it hurt them too, it's hard to examine yourself. They were my close friends and good boys, and are even better men, but they had somewhere learned that interracial dating and certainly marriage were not acceptable. It's okay for others to believe differently than me. However, it was the first time in my life that I knew that despite my best efforts and all the things that were within my control, my race limited my potential. My family faced racism but we fought discrimination. My mom made sure we stayed home on Martin Luther King Jr. Day, when the school district didn't honor the holiday. One time she drove up and picked up my black sister from school after she had kicked a boy for calling her the "n" word in 8th grade. My mom told the principal if anyone ever did it again, my sister was had permission to kick harder. Then they went for a milk shake. When kids pulled their eyes to make them squinty and talked in gibberish to mimic a foreign language at me, my mom would say they were jealous because they will never look as pretty as me and never be as smart as me. My mom tells of an instance of a school meeting where she told teachers and administrators that brown and black skin were not qualifiers for special education and that she wanted some kind of evidence that her kids needed special education before she'd sign the papers. Yes, we definitely felt discrimination and oppression. In response, I was taught that racism is based in ignorance, and education and action create change.
Each person has the right to know that their inherent value is equal to the other billions of people around the world, and should be treated as such. I am different and that makes me special. I am proud of who I am, including my race. I am Malynda Lee Stout Tolbert and I am a first generation Korean American. My kids and my nieces and nephews, almost all are people of color, have been raised to embrace the differences of the people in their lives and to be proud of their own heritage. I wish for my children to walk proudly and identify themselves as multi-cultural Asian and white Americans and not fear or be ashamed. I wish for all children of color and all children, to embrace their rich heritage and not fear for their safety because of the color of their skin. I hope for a world where all people will look at their friends and especially strangers and see the unique differences and embrace the history, the culture, and the beauty that defines the humanity of being ONE.
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