I am not always at my best. That fact is what makes me human. However, that does not mean that I should not strive to be at my best. Often times, at the worst possible moments, when life has called me to step up and be a leader, I have chosen instead to follow the group. Other times, when trust, faith, and positive thoughts were required, all I could muster was incredulity.
One day, while walking down the hall of my high school, I saw a crowd gathered around two girls fighting. One of the girls happened to be brown (according to Crayola, see also African American or whatever the latest incorrect reference is) and the other white. Without thinking, I stepped in to break up the fight. Some of the people watching were not impressed that I had broken it up. Some even suggested that I had been more harsh on the brown girl than the white girl and some discussion ensued along those lines. I couldn't help thinking how lost some kids were to think along racial lines when people are hurting each other. Besides, I felt pretty safe breaking up a fight between two girls, who were younger and presumably weaker than me.
Fast forward 30 years...I am driving home, with my wife and two boys, from a weekend visiting relatives in Texas. We had stopped at a gas station to get gas. When I got out of the car to pump the gas, I heard a loud voice yelling something. I looked over to find a well built, young man, who must have been in his early twenties, yelling at what looked like a high school kid. Upon further inspection, I noticed that the mother and younger sister of the teenager were standing helplessly nearby. As the yelling voice became louder and louder, I looked down the rows of people pumping gas to see why no one was stepping in to diffuse the situation. As the older of these two young men, became more agitated and angry, he began yelling at the mother also. Meanwhile, the sister had begun crying. It was all I could do to stop myself from rushing into a fight, that I felt sure would not end well for me. Then, like in slow motion, it happened. The twenty-something, who had been yelling, hit the kid on the side of his face and head. The kid, clearly in shock, stood there red faced and now crying, as the older guy began moving around as if a fight had commenced. Then, I saw a single man, walking toward the doors of the convenience store. When he got close, he exchanged words with the older, more aggressive young man, and soon he found himself punched also. A small, skirmish ensued and I found myself running full speed toward the fight. As I approached, I began yelling "break it up, break it up". Although, by this time, I was really angry myself and my adrenaline was definitely flowing. Two things crossed my mind: 1) I am the only person of color (other than my wife and kids) anywhere around and 2) if the police show up, they will probably assume that I am somehow at fault here. Luckily, for me, by the time I got to the fight, they were falling and I braced their fall and then helped hold the aggressor down until he was calm. At this point, he got up, and with a little coaxing, walked away. I went back to my now filled car, got inside, started it up, and drove away. I was thankful that the police had not arrived and I had not had to explain myself. I was also curious as to whether the convenience store workers had called the police to report their now broken storefront glass.
For the next 30 or 40 miles, I heard from my wife, who had yelled my name as I was running toward the fight, that my decision there had probably not been one of my best. She laid out for me, in some detail, all of the potential pitfalls of my actions, including the fact that I might have been injured or worse, since I had no idea who any of these people were. In that instant, without really thinking it through, I said the following:
"When I saw that mother and sister standing there helplessly, I thought of you and the boys. Maybe you were in a convenience store one day and one of the boys stepped on some one's shoe or said something about them shoplifting (as kids will do) and this was you standing out there, with me no where around. Maybe, some stranger stepped in to help, because he felt some sense of obligation, and was overtaken by the younger, stronger, angrier man. I will never drive away from that. Yes, that means someday you may see me hurt or worse. But you will not see me standing by and watching when I am needed, even by strangers."
Great speech, right?
Yet, I have asked myself 50 times, what would I have done if I saw three strong men jumping an off duty cop, who was tasked with making them leave the bar? That specific situation occurred recently in Oklahoma City. What would I have done if the guy looked a little more menacing, maybe a tattoo sleeve or some sign that he was in a gang? Would I have offered help? What would I have done if there were 5 policeman subduing a large man on the pavement as he insisted that he could not breathe?
I am writing this story now for one reason and one reason only. Every day on Facebook and Twitter, I see new people posting stories of either police shooting people of color or young men of color killing other people. Often, those posting are people I like, know personally, and respect. These are generally speaking, intelligent people, so caught up in the moment that they have begun comparing apples, oranges, and bananas. The question posed most often in the subject of the post: "where is the outrage"? I encourage people on both sides of this debate, especially people of good conscience (some might use the word Christians), to think twice about what you post. Stop and think, "outrage" is not needed for crimes that are solved. When people are arrested, their cases adjudicated, and their innocence or guilt decided. Why would we be outraged at a justice system that has done what it was designed to do?
"Outrage" should rightfully be reserved for the lives: young, old, white, black, or any other color; which are taken AND the world moves on, as though nothing happened".
People of good conscience have plenty in this world to be outraged about, like the countless crimes that are never solved. Outrage should be reserved for crimes that are allowed to continue for years because no one cared enough to connect the dots. Outrage should be saved for the growing numbers of cowards who kill innocent people, and then themselves, in the name of some distorted ideology. What we do not need to be outraged about is criminals who are caught and punished. The reason we are not outraged about that is because "apples" are not "oranges", and if you think they are, you are "bananas".
In our world today, we could use fewer bananas: who still insist on diverting resources from the very real "war on terrorism" to our very fake "war on drugs", which targets specific communities and groups of people for heavy punishment, while ignoring statistics which show just how widespread drug use/abuse has become. Bananas: who complain about high taxes, but are perfectly content spending four or five times more to incarcerate a person than to educate that same person. Bananas: who think that laws like "stop and frisk" are great laws, mainly because they cannot fathom anyone in their family or friend circle actually being stopped and frisked. For once, I think we should all just pass on the fruit salad and get back to healthier things.
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