She was standing alone at the intersection, bundled against the wind that threatened to take her sign. You think she is an older woman, but you can’t be sure given her mask, scarf, and hat. The sign says, “End Structural Racism.”
Well, sure, you think. Everybody agrees with that, but how? You give her an encouraging thumbs up as you drive past, more intent on your destination than on a lone woman shouting in to the wind. But somehow she won’t go away. “End implicit racism,” you scoff, if thoughts can scoff. But her sign, her presence, her acknowledgement to you with a shake of the sign has power. You put your driver on automatic pilot as you ponder the sad truth that not everybody agrees with her. Many don’t care, or don’t understand, or don’t believe in what she is trying to say.
You had a hard time understanding the concept, remember? What the hell is structural racism anyway, you once thought. The last four years have been a fine teacher, haven’t they? Cops protected from actions so clearly brutal and beyond the pale by a justice system that is anything but equal. Laws that target Black and brown voters. Corporate policies that have created inner city food deserts.
You’ve lived for decades thinking the worst that would happen when the cops pull you over is a speeding ticket. Now you know how insulated, how protected, how very privileged you’ve been to not have to worry about dying while driving, or jogging, or bird watching. Or sleeping in your own bed.
So why were you so dismissive? Fess up. You know you were thinking the woman was a well-intentioned fool. What could she possibly do, standing on the corner of Routes 47 and 116, that could end something that has been built into the foundation of this country? And then you remember quotes that inspire. Margaret Mead’s, “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.” And Mao’s famous, “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a step.”
And you remember a 15-year-old child sitting alone outside the Swedish Parliament holding her little sign. A year later Greta Thunberg was speaking in front of the United Nations. So why are you scoffing at this woman’s attempt to say something vital? She must know as well as you that the structures of society will need to be rebuilt with new laws by people with new attitudes. The task is immense and will take years, maybe generations. After all, we are still fighting the Civil War aren’t we? So what can this one chilled-to-the-bone woman do with her little sign?
Maybe she has already done it. The road has disappeared and you are almost at Route 9. She has shaken you out of your daily melodrama, the one where you can listen to the daily news horrors and then change stations, or make dinner, or watch an episode of the West Wing.
Instead you have been thinking of structural racism. You have been thinking of the impact of one person on the world. You want to stop and stand with her on your way home, for a little while anyway. You are not going to stay and hold a sign, or march on Washington. You made your choices long ago, and there are other commitments today. You have laundry to do and meals to prepare. And children to cherish. But you could stop if only to thank her. To tell her that she matters. That she made a difference.
But when you pass back through the intersection she is gone. There were other drivers that saw her. How many heads turned, how many other scoffers snorted there way past, how many more spent the rest of the day thinking about racism and the impact we each have on others?
You wish you could tell her how important it was to you that she was there. But while you can’t pass new laws you can keep thinking; you can share your thoughts with your family. And you can write about it.
Alan Lipp lives in South Deerfield.