Reggie Dabbs - Not So Black and White: An Invitation to Honest Conversations about Race and Faith

For our dads

and for anyone courageous enough to listen

and to change the way they think

May 25, 2020

The world watched as Derek Chauvin, a white officer in the Minneapolis Police Department, knelt on the neck of George Floyd, a Black man lying on his face in handcuffs in the middle of a downtown neighborhood. Chauvin kept his knee and the weight of his body on Floyds neck for more than nine minutes. George begged for mercy. He said he couldnt breathe. He cried out for his mother. A crowd of onlookers also pleaded with Chauvin to let him breathe. Other police officers standing nearby did not intervene as George Floyd gasped for air and eventually stopped breathing. He lay unconscious on the pavement for nearly three minutes, with Chauvins knee still on his neck. Floyd had no pulse when paramedics arrived and was later pronounced dead at the hospital.

As protests erupted around the nation and the world, a tired yet somehow disturbingly invigorated conversation was reignited in the church and on social media. Everyone seemed certain that they were right and everyone else was wrong. Humility, empathy, or any acknowledgment of the need to listen or possibly change ones thinking seemed to be exotic concepts.

Everything was cast as black and white, even though it was not.

May 26, 2020

The world wasnt watching the next day as a conservative white Christian nervously picked up his phone and called his longtime friend Reggie, who is Black. During their short conversation, they talked about uncomfortable things they had never discussed before.

Im sick to my stomach, man, John said as he paced across his living-room rug. His emotions were raw, and for some reason he felt insecure talking with his Black friend about George Floyd, as if he was just catching up on something he should already have known. I mean, the cop pushed his face into the concrete... and Floyd screamed for his mama. Ive been so mad and Ive been crying. This aint right.

No, it aint. Reggie wasnt trying to be short with John, but he was already exhausted from what he had been reading online after the murder. He wasnt sure where this conversation was going. A long pause ensued.

I just cant believe what so many Christians are saying on social media, John huffed. Its like they dont think George Floyd was a real person. How did we get here, Reggie? No answer. John took a breath, then said, Bro, are you okay?

Im hanging in there. Reggie could tell he didnt sound very convincing. This is tough, man, but I think something is changing. It has to.

I know how I feel right now, but I cant imagine how you must feel. John took yet another deep breath. I realize youre dealing with a lot right now, but could I ask you a few questions without offending you?

Weve been friends for years. What do you want to know?

John understood that once he asked, there was no going back. But it was time. Have I missed it all these years? Is all of this systemic racism that everyone is fighting about something youve experienced? Whats it really like to be a Black man in America?

John expected a delayed response, but Reggie jumped right in. When I was teaching my son how to drive, the first thing I told him was to always lay his wallet on the seat next to him so he could get it without reaching into his back pocket if the police pulled him over.

Youre kidding me.

No, I wish I was. But thats a snapshot of what its like to be a Black manand to have a Black sonin America. If Dominic ever gets pulled over, he knows to roll down all four windows, turn on the dome light so the officer can see him, and keep his hands at ten and two. I taught him that before I taught him to put on his seat belt.

Man, weve been friends for more than a decade. How could I not know this? I guess I never asked. Johns tone was apologetic, but even that felt weird.

Thats okay. Its something I dont really talk about, but Ive had some crazy experiences. I cant tell you how many times white people have heard my presentations at different events and said afterward, You speak really well... for a Black man. They think its a compliment.

That cant be true. Can some people really be that dense?

Its actually happened a lot. They also ask me if my parents are white. When I tell them, No, theyre Black, they seem surprised. Professors at my predominantly white Christian college told me I needed to speak better than the white students to make sure I never gave white people a reason to say, I couldnt understand him because hes Black. I know white privilege is a touchy subject, but Ive felt it when white people put me into a category that says, He shouldnt be able to speak like that. He shouldnt be able to reach me.

This was the first time Reggie had talked about racism with John. Why havent you spoken out about this stuff?

Because Ive never wanted everything in my life to be about my raceand because I guess I didnt think it would change anything. But now Im having conversations that help me think otherwise. The other day, one of my college roommates dismissed the issue of racism because he said we were all fine back in collegeme, the Black guy; and them, everyone else at school. I reminded him of the night all my roommates burst into my dorm room wearing white sheets and ignited lighter fluid on my wall in the shape of a cross.

No way that really happened! In the 1980s at a Christian college?

Oh, it happened. It was a joke. I knew they loved me and meant no harm. I laughed along with them at the time, which I probably shouldnt have done. They didnt realize how much that kind of stuff affected me. I never told them. But the worst wasnt their jokes. Most of my friends didnt know that Minneapolis police repeatedly stopped me when I walked home from work at night. I had to show my school ID and wait for them to verify my identity simply because I was a young Black man walking around at night. When I shared this with my roommate, the one who thought everything had been fine all those years ago, he was speechless. Why didnt you say anything? he asked. I was, like, Bro, what could you have done?

John honestly didnt know. He struggled to find the right words, then admitted, I hate to say it, Reggie, but I think a lot of white people feel that waylike we dont know what to do. We have assumed a lot about the lives of Black people in America. Some say that weve let our systems sin for usall we have to do is look the other way and keep living our lives, hoping that better laws and less racist talk mean things are okay. We were taught to be colorblindnot to notice or talk about racial issuesso we wouldnt make our Black friends uncomfortable.

I get it. Right or wrong, weve all had our reasons for not talking about racism in the past, but I think weve come to a place where its something we have to talk about. It felt liberating to speak so boldly on the topic.

I appreciate your willingness to talk about it now, John replied. Its not your job to educate all the white people of the world about racism. It has to be exhausting. I know that you dont want everything in your life to be about raceand it shouldnt have to be. At times, Ive been on the wrong side of this issue, as have many other people just like me. Its time for white peopleespecially Christiansto step up, listen up, and stand next to our Black friends who are leading us on these issues, so you dont have to carry the weight alone anymore. John paused in thought before adding, I havent been a very good friend to you on this one.

Hey, Reggie replied in his distinctively gracious way, youre showing up now. Thats where well start.

* * *

This was the first of many conversations between two longtime friendsa Black man and a white man, both in full-time ministry. Throughout our friendship, we had spoken at many of the same events, shared countless dinners, talked on the phone thousands of times, and even written two books together. Yet somehow we had never talked honestly and directly about race.