Taking a Deeper Breath

When the late Congressman John Lewis crossed the Edmund Pettus Bridge with a crowd of voting rights activists on March 7, 1965, he was met by Alabama state troopers who brutally beat him , leaving him with a fractured skull. Yesterday he crossed the bridge for the last time, his flag-covered coffin on a horse drawn caisson. And while the bridge still bears the name of a man who was a Confederate Army officer and a grand dragon in the Ku Klux Klan, this time, uniformed state officers saluted as John Lewis passed them. Yes, our country has made some racial progress in the last 50 years, and for that we can be grateful. But we have also lost ground, and it's up to us to reverse that. Congressman Lewis and Dr. Ibram X. Kendi are among the Black leaders who have told us what we need to do. Two months after the courageous John Lewis led the march on Bloody Sunday, Congress passed the Voting Rights Act of 1965. That act was supposed to ensure that no state or loca

We've just lost two heroes. Both the Rev. C.T. Vivian and Congressman John Lewis died yesterday. These brave leaders were close associates of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., and like Dr. King each was a "drum major for justice," a "drum major for peace," and a "drum major for righteousness." Each was a champion of nonviolent action, and each lived a powerful life of effective nonviolent resistance. They led us all for decade upon decade after the death of Dr. King, and we are all diminished by their loss. We sorely need their example and their inspiration now. The Rev. Cordy Tindell ("C.T.") Vivian was one of the key organizers of the civil rights movement. He was a leading member of the Freedom Riders, and in 1963 he became the director of affiliates for the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, which traces its beginnings to the 1955-56 Montgomery bus boycott after Rosa Parks refused to give up her seat for a White man. Then

When I pivoted from a mental health focus to this current version of my blog, I said that I would address ways to build community solidarity as well as challenge systemic racism and White privilege. Here's an important -- and urgent -- task for today that focuses upon both upending racist systems and enhancing community solidarity: write to and/or call your Senators to urge passage of a bill to extend Pandemic Unemployment Assistance (the $600 in additional unemployment benefits) and related legislation.  Visit Extend PUA for resources, information, sample letters and call scripts, talking points, and much more. ExtendPUA.org is an all volunteer organization that was started by two unemployed members of the  entertainment industry; it works in solidarity with Unemployment Action, a Facebook public group. You can find ExtendPUA's mission here. We know that this pandemic has disproportionately affected our Black siblings, who are becoming infected at rates that far exceed t

Like many of you, perhaps, I have been having some hard conversations lately. The most difficult have been with my White family and friends. Invariably, we reach a stumbling block when I acknowledge my own racism. "Speak for yourself," I've heard more than once. "I'm not a racist." Speak for yourself. That's good advice for all of us. And a good reminder that we cannot ask others to speak for anyone but themselves. That's one of the many things we can do to make hard conversations more productive (see June 17 post for more suggestions). But "I'm not a racist" is a statement that I cannot let stand unchallenged. I can understand why acknowledging personal racism would be threatening for those who believe that only bad people are racists. I don't know if I have actually changed any minds about that conviction. I do hope that I have caused folks to at least reconsider the belief that they cannot be racist because they are good peop

On this very different July 4th, there is much we can read or watch that will inform and broaden our view of the nation's Independence Day. We could start with the Preamble to the Constitution: "We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America."  In that context, and against the backdrop of COVID-19 and continuing systemic racism, the words of Frederick Douglass' July 5, 1852 speech, commonly referred to as "What to the Slave is the Fourth of July?," take on added poignancy 168 years after they were delivered. You can read the entire speech here , or watch this powerful reading of excerpts from it by direct descendants of Douglass. Be sure to watch the entire seven minute vi

When I started these messages, my goal was to help others cope with the pandemic. From mid-March through May, my daily posts were designed to offer a break from the bad news and tools for staying grounded and centered during a traumatizing time. One of them is self-care, which includes rest and getting good sleep. These were privileged posts, written from the perspective of one who is navigating the pandemic in a White body. Here's another take on rest. In addition to COVID-19, we are grappling -- again -- with the legacy of trauma and the ongoing agony caused by over 400 years of White supremacy. And in the context of a pandemic that disproportionately affects them, we are finally starting to pay attention to the impacts of trauma and chronic stress upon our B lack siblings. For those who live with these injuries, self care and rest can be an act of resistance as well as a means to healing. "Our legacy is a legacy of exhaustion," says Tricia Hersey, a performance art