I’ve learned more in a week about racism then I think I ever have. And that is a problem. I wasn’t listening.

I am now.

It took too much to get my attention.

For a very long time I ignored the news because I didn’t want to hear about bad things happening. I didn’t understand this is a privilege. I didn’t understand that by doing so, I was contributing to the issues that the world is facing rather then helping.

I do now.

I also didn’t understand that Black Lives Matter is essential to life issues because all lives cannot matter until Black Lives Matter.

I do now.

It’s not too late to change my ways of thinking and acting and I understand that now. I was in this bubble of non-racist negative peace, where I would deny being racist but want to keep the status quo. I didn’t understand how it effected me, even after studying 20th Century Peacemakers like Gandhi, Mother Teresa, and Martin Luther King Jr in college. Heck, I cleaned my bookshelf of most of my school books just a few weeks ago and left those three books to inspire me. I didn’t pick them up to read them again though. They were there for some other time.

Well, some other time came when I couldn’t ignore the news anymore because it was everywhere. I knew I needed to re-educate myself so I picked up my Martin Luther King Jr book (I Have A Dream: Writings & Speeches That Changed The World). I read Dr. King’s Letter From A Birmingham Jail. I still didn’t fully understand, but certain phrases stood out to me that needed further investigation. It was a starting point.

Throughout the last week I’ve been reading stories, listening to all of the really wonderful information out there, and learning what I should have taught myself all along.

The looting was scary. Driving home through Trenton was said to be scary. I was told the bridges were being closed so I needed to avoid Trenton. Rumors spread that rioters were going to march up the bridges from Trenton and start looting Pennsylvania shopping centers. I told my husband our personal safety was more important than the things he has at his garage. We bought into these rumors and nothing happened. We didn’t seek out the truth.

On Wednesday night, our neighbor came to us panicked that there was going to be a protest right in front of our house the next day. A person was threatening to loot our neighborhood and there were random pictures of bricks around town posted on a facebook page. Our neighbor was afraid that the old houses on our street would be set on fire. After we went inside and calmed down, my husband looked everything up. I was really concerned for our safety after what she had told us, but we talked about it and then we saw the information linked to the protest – a peaceful protest with specific times outlined for chanting, kneeling, and dispersing that would only last a half hour.

That night I started thinking about attending. It would be right in front of our house and people would be social distancing and it would only be a half hour so I would be home in enough time to make dinner. I already was leaving work early because I wanted to make sure I would be able to drive down my street and park my car without the added worry of people in and around my driveway, so I could easily put a sign together when I got home. I started talking to my sister, who had a friend attend a protest in the area, in a town somewhat similar to mine. She sent me the information and I really wanted to go.

I had already planned on doing some sketching because a lot of the time while I meditate and pray on something, it helps me to draw. I had an image in my head and was going to take out my sketch book and pencils, but with the protest, I decided to paint it on cardboard instead. I still made a sketch on the cardboard and then outlined it in marker before painting over it. I painted hands, different colors but using the same three paint colors for both. I painted a heart. I painted a rainbow. I was initially going to write something inspiring – like a Martin Luther King quote or something but then it felt wrong. The piece said a lot to me and I wanted it to evoke in others what they needed. Words seemed meaningless when a picture was worth a thousand.

My sign dried. I made sure my husband was okay with me going. I watched as crowds of people walked down our street toward the intersection where it was starting. I walked outside and wandered a little until I found my spot. People were lined up on either side of the street. At about 5:35 the chanting started. I held my sign and chanted, quietly at first because I was shy, but louder when I started to learn the chants.

Black Lives Matter

No Justice, No Peace

George Floyd

Ahmaud Arbery

Breonna Taylor

Cars drove by and honked. Some passerby held their fists out the window in solidarity.

I began to feel emotional as car after car honked and drivers held their hands out the window. So many people showing support while even more people stood on the street.

Then we knelt.

I prayed.

When we stood back up we chanted louder this time. At the dispersing time, a police car with it’s hazards flashing led a march all the way to the train station. It was probably a part of the dispersion plan, since a majority of participants parked at the train station and walked down the street, but it felt powerful to see just how many people were out on the street today, chanting and marching. I told my husband when I got home that the march was so large it reminded me of the crowds our town gets for the 5k or even the parades we hold annually. It impressed me since the town is so small. My town growing up is huge and I would have expected thousands of people there, but where we live currently is such a small town that I really didn’t expect the turnout to be what it was. It felt so real, so raw, and so important.

I know that a small town protest may not be impactful on a national level, but my hope is that it makes an impact on our community, on anyone who was watching from a window or porch, and on anyone who maybe sees it on facebook or something.

I didn’t think I’d be able to get to show my support in this way with an almost two-year-old at home, so I was happy to stand out there. I’m trying to do more but my main medium is Instagram. Receiving local news will help me know if there is something else going on now and hopefully I will be able to participate in something else.

For now, thanks for listening to the ramblings of a white woman. I definitely won’t forget this protest.