Recent events at Ferguson reminded me of
an experience I had several years ago on my way to work. While driving down Fair Oaks Avenue, I came
upon a police blockade. When it was my
turn to pass, an officer asked me for my driver’s license, added apologetically
that it was just a “routine check,” and waved me through hassle-free.
As I drove away, I could not help but
think back to several conversations I’d had in recent months with fellow
Pasadenans. An African-American friend
told me that when he comes to a roadblock, he stops the car, puts his hands on
the dashboard in clear view, and asks the officer if he should come out of the
car. “It’s not worth risking a
misunderstanding,” he said, “or becoming a victim of mistaken identity.”
Another friend told me of the sheer terror he experiences
every time he gets in his car. Although
he has lived and worked in Pasadena for many years, and his children are U.S.
citizens, he has been waiting almost 20 years to adjust his own immigration
status. Being pulled over by a police
officer in Pasadena could mean excessive court fees and fines, losing the truck
in which he needs to carry out his construction work, and possible
deportation. In short, it could cost him
his livelihood and even this family.
It was during my tenure at the Office for Creative
Connections, after listening to people’s daily experiences,
that the need for serious dialoguie about strutural racism became clear. City Conversations was born out of this
need. During these conversations we
often heard about the subtle nature of racism, its invisibility to the
populations in our city that are not directly affected by it.
Personally, City Conversations became a
humbling and important journey for me – an opportunity to look critically at my
own prejudices. I had a new appreciation
for the degree to which I can live my life not
thinking about race or ethnicity, while others did not experience that luxury.
And as a person of faith, I’ve had to question whether I, too, have been
complicit in accepting or participating in policies and practices that have
kept people on the margins of our city.
I continue to be made aware of the pain
and frustration people carry from years of not being heard related to the
injustices they experience on a daily basis and, as Ferguson reminds us, the
way daily slights and stereotyping can quickly become a matter of life or
death.
I deeply respect the mission of the YWCA
to eliminate racism in Pasadena. A good way to begin is to make open and honest
dialogue about racism and inequities an ongoing process and an absolute
priority in our city.
