A House Divided

The NFL has brought the sharp division of beliefs in our country into focus with the many players kneeling during the national anthem.  I support the protest;  I know many who don't.  However I was literally chilled last night to hear that there would be efforts starting at the White House to make standing during the national anthem mandatory.

Regardless of whether one feels this is "disrespectful" or any of the other terms I have heard and seen bandied about, this should frighten all of us.  Compelling us to stand is not the beliefs our country was founded on. Such dictates bring to mind facist governments and dictatorships around the world where terrified citizens stand at rigid attention.

It has also been another learning experience for our family, as my brother in law unfriended both myself and my wife because our profile pictures on Facebook indicate our support of the protest.  I was sad that he did this without dialogue.  That seems emblematic of the divisions within our country now.  I felt worse when my wife texted him privately and he harshly answered in ways that made her deeply sad.  My BIL is  a funny guy much of the time.  He is possessed of biting wit and a facility with words that lends itself to riotious laughter at family meals.  However his belief system is very rigid and I always hoped that our life was just a quiet way to help open his heart to the fact that everything is not that black and white.  He refused to come to our wedding for instance, but was willing to come to our reception at the house. I was okay with that then, although my wife was angry.  "we're good enough to eat our food" she ranted.  I was sure that it was a step toward understanding that opportunities to break bread together would help him see that we are not so very different. 

He has always been a generous uncle to our children, yet I can not overlook the racist tenor of his posts. When I talk to him about kids shot in playgrounds by police, unarmed black men shot when they are doing what the police told them to do--I am always told "my kids are different."  They aren't.  Sure my kids are smart cute and talented.  But they are black.  They always will be black.  And the only reason he can see the other facets of them is because he knows them and has known them all their lives.

He can't accept that.  He can't accept the fact that my kids have been followed in stores, called poop face and worse and other racially based things.  Probably more I don't even know about because as much as i strive for open dialogue I am deeply aware that no kid tells their parents everything.  They have hurts they have chosen not to share, of this I am sure.

And so for the moment, we are a family divided.  Thanksgiving is typically at our home and I am not sure what that will look like this year.  Sometimes I think we should attempt to gather civilly and build on that which is common and good to us--the love that we all share, the memories, the laughter and the pie.  Sometimes I worry that this is just perpetuating a lie and that my kids will see this capitulation as white family being more important. Part of me is sad because I suspect he must have always felt this way, and how could I have not known?  I feel stupid, and duped, angry, afraid and alone. 

And if I feel that way, it is only a fraction of what my kids, my friends who are POC feel.  These are deeply disturbing times.