In the wake of the acquittal of Darren Wilson, the police officer who shot Michael Brown in Ferguson, Missouri, and the grand jury’s decision not to indict the policeman responsible for Eric Garner’s death in New York City, I feel compelled to write. First, though, I’m not here to wax poetically about racial justice or police brutality. That’s been done enough. Nor am I here to condemn or condone any of the actions following either decision. That’s been covered, too.
What I am here to do is to convey my deepest sadness at the loss of two lives, as well as the needless destruction that occurred afterward. But I don’t just weep for Brown and Garner and their respective families — I weep also for Darren Wilson, who was forced to resign without severance right as his wife is about to give birth. I weep for the residents of Ferguson, Missouri, whose town has been turned upside down in the blink of an eye. I weep for those policeman everywhere who are well-meaning, upstanding citizens, but who will now be looked on with suspicion and derision by a large segment of the population. I weep for those who don’t feel safe when policeman are around, but instead feel fear, and often rightfully so.
I guess what I’m trying to say is, in situations like this, no one comes out on top. We all lose. I’ll admit, even as a white female, I don’t feel comfortable in a society where a policeman can strangle a man and not be held accountable. That’s not the kind of world I want to live in.
So what can I do? What can little old me, living in a red state in the deep south, do in instances like this? Admittedly, for the last few days I’ve felt helpless. And detached. Many days the news leaves me wanting to bury my head in my hands and pretend none of this shit is happening.
But it is. That’s the truth. It happens EVERY DAY. All around the world. TRAGEDIES HAPPEN EVERY DAY.
But do you know what else? SO DO MIRACLES.
It sounds cliché, but it’s the honest truth. Case in point: Almost immediately after the looting and rioting occurred across St. Louis, scores of online fundraising sites popped up to help raise money for the innocent shop owners whose livelihoods were threatened. Donations poured in, and people were able to start rebuilding and resume work.
And I’m sure you’ve all seen this photo that’s been making the rounds, of a young boy and a police officer hugging in the midst of a protest.
THAT’S how we respond. THAT’S what Martin Luther King meant when he famously said, “Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.”
So in the wake of tragedy, what do we do? We love. We shine our light into the darkness and we offer one another a hand. And while at times our circumstances may seem overwhelming, I always remember the story of the boy walking along the beach, tossing washed up starfish back into the ocean one by one. Even though the beach is littered with starfish, he keeps working his way down the beach. When a man stops him and asks him why he bothers — that he can’t possibly make a difference when there is so much to be done — the boy reaches down, picks up another starfish and tosses it into the ocean, replying: “It made a difference to that one.”
So instead of getting on Facebook or social media and joining the shouting and arguing over “who’s right and who’s wrong” in instances like these, why not be a part of the solution? If we each throw back a starfish, we’ll have this beach cleared off in no time.