I understand…that I’ll never understand

A few days ago, the New York Times published a below-the-fold news article about my hometown of Fort Worth, Texas. It was not a feel-good story.

It hurts to read it.

A young, black woman was shot and killed (through the window in her home) by a police officer. There are still many unanswered questions. Citizens in the community in which it happened, and others, are outraged.

I’ve never seen racial tension in my community this high in my lifetime. Black men, women and children do not feel safe in their own homes or their own neighborhoods. My social media feed is littered with strangers and “friends” arguing and threatening each other. Tuesday night city council meetings are full of name-calling, yelling and demands for change.

It hurts to watch. 

Hurt is felt throughout the city. People of color feel ignored. Our community leaders are under pressure to find fast solutions. The police department believes their entire force is being judged by the actions of a select few.

It hurts to imagine what’s next.

I was talking with a friend recently who argued that racism went both ways.  He visited a taqueria last year and they refused to serve him because he was white.  He understands.

I’ve felt it, too. About 8 years ago, I was nominated as the (first white) committee chair for our African sister city. There was blow back from two committee members who thought I was too white. The offer was given to me, taken back, and then given to me again.

It hurts to be judged by your skin color.  Like my friend, I understand, too. But in a different way.

I understand that I will never understand what it might be like to be a person of color.  The one-time incidents of racism we experienced surely pale in comparison to a lifetime of feeling marginalized because of your skin color.

“When I pull in to my driveway at night, I have to look both ways before I exit my car to make sure I don’t scare anybody”, a black community leader once told me.

“Every time I get in the car, I risk being pulled over and probably deported. ” says a Latina mother of three.

“When I go to the movies, people avoid sitting next to me even when their assigned seat is next to mine”, a friend of color told me.

***

The food business is replete with metaphors that can be applied to life.  I often tell my catering staff “if there’s ever an emergency at an important event (like somebody’s wedding), DO SOMETHING.  Even if it ends up being the wrong thing, do something.  Don’t just sit there and let it happen.”

There have been 4 white officer/black victim shootings in Fort Worth since June. Anger in the African-American community is so palpable, I go to sleep worried that the next police shooting of a black victim by a white officer, justified or not, will start a riot.

We must do something.

I pray the underserved communities will find healing. And I pray city leadership will take swift, thoughtful action to address the perceived inequity and growing distrust of local law enforcement and elected officials.

Because the cost of doing nothing is everything.

Carlo CapuaComment