Waiting for Belonging

February has rolled around again, and with it comes Black History Month in the U.S. and Canada. When I worked, my company made it easy to celebrate, but now that I’m retired, I’m on my own.

I’m aware of some of the controversy over celebrating Black History Month.  For some, the question is “Why do we need to focus on just one group?” For some, the question is “Can’t we move on now?” Others see it the way Morgan Freeman explained to Mike Wallace on 60 minutes in 2005. “You’re going to relegate my history to a month? … I don’t want a Black History Month. Black history is American history.”

Me too, Morgan. I want our country’s history to be inclusive. But it isn’t yet. I want everyone to feel like they belong. But they don’t. 

It seems we have to go through stages when trying to achieve social justice in any area.

1)      Discrimination - the time of wrongs, some blatant and some blindly unintentional, some looked over and some protested

2)      Tolerance - the time of laws and policies, political correctness, when “isms” are sustained through silence and resentment

3)      Appreciation - the time of accepting, listening, respecting, celebrating, acknowledging, honoring the hidden figures of history

4)      Belonging - the time when full inclusion is the norm and no one is “the only” or the token

I’ve experienced these stages as a female professional in a male dominated work world. I found they were not always sequential. Just when I felt like we were easing into the next phase, something happened and we slid back into the previous one. One step forward and two steps backward. Progress is slow. In some circles, I felt we were in one phase and in other circles in a different one. Progress is inconsistent.

I remember attending women’s conferences or celebration events and wishing they weren’t necessary. I just wanted to belong, not be appreciated for my minority status. I didn’t want to have a special group for my kind. I just wanted to be a part of their group. But the pace of belonging was not determined by me alone. The pace was also determined by the majority. And they had to learn how to recognize discrimination before they could tolerate before they could appreciate before they could include.

So I can understand when my African American friends get weary of educating everyone else on black history. When they wish all the special celebrating and appreciating weren’t still necessary. When they prefer to not talk about race because they’d rather race didn’t make such a difference. When they find themselves switching between a moment of belonging, to a bit of uncovered history appreciated, to some awkwardness of tolerance, or to the discrimination of being followed in a department store. When they wish they weren’t still having to spend energy on this stuff at all. Wishing it were easier.

Amos, one of the Old Testament’s minor prophets, wrote around a major theme of social justice. He spoke particularly against the disparity between the rich and poor, but his words are relevant to any disparity we experience. In Amos 5:21-24 [ESV] he recorded what the Lord instructed Israel. God didn’t want their ceremonies and sacrifices and songs. What He wanted was their justice and righteousness. He said it like this in verse 24:

But let justice roll down like waters,
    and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.

When justice rolls like water, it comes easily, without effort. That is what it feels like when we get to the stage of belonging.  When everyone belongs, justice doesn’t have to fight, because it flows. That’s the world I want. And I accept that the pace of change in my little world is in my hands. May justice and righteousness roll like water through my fingers.