Something That Needs To Be Said About Ferguson

My daughter, age 3, adoringly playing with her doll house figures
My daughter, age 3, adoringly playing with her doll house figures

In the past several weeks, there has been a ton of great writing on the black experience in our country and on the history of widespread violence against blacks that continues up to this very moment.  I have also seen a bit of commentary and writing that desires to defend law enforcement and describe the very difficult job police have in protecting the public.  In my Facebook feed and in the comments on many articles I’ve read, I have seen numerous white people, like myself, discussing, arguing, and trying to persuade each other of what is true and what is just.  I am glad this conversation is taking place, especially among white Americans.

I believe both sides are saying true things.  Along with many others, I believe that black men are treated differently in our society, that they are subjected to questioning and suspicion at much, much higher rates than their white and Asian peers and that very often when they have been killed without cause, justice is never served.  I also agree that police officers have very challenging jobs, and that the rest of us cannot quite understand how tricky it is to protect the public and make split second decisions in what feel like dangerous situations.  Further, I agree that there is cause to look at each case individually, as we cannot determine what is just without an understanding of the details.

In the midst of all this writing and talking, there is one simple fact that I think needs to be stated even more plainly: police officers are simply reflecting our entire society’s ingrained prejudices.  In them, the assumptions and fears we hold societally about black men are simply put on display in the most vivid (and tragic) way possible. Continue reading “Something That Needs To Be Said About Ferguson”

What the ICU Taught Me About Marriage

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The day we pledged to have and to hold each other in sickness and in health

When I vowed to love Rick “in sickness and in health,” I found the words romantic.  Like many brides, I had some vague idea that long marriages always end up involving difficult times and illness, but I had only the dimmest understanding of what I was actually promising.

We made it seven years before I learned what it means to have and to hold in sickness.  Continue reading “What the ICU Taught Me About Marriage”