Earth Remembers

“The brutal history of colonialism is one in which white people literally stole land and people for their own gain and material wealth.”

Patrisse Cullors

This land I walk has seen a lot. Among the trees, beneath the songs of various birds, I sense the life under my feet. This land has been privy to enormous change. History lives here.

I am white. Because my skin is pale, I have the privilege of being part of the dominant group in this country. My ancestors came here by choice, looking for opportunity. I didn’t have to have a talk with my son to prepare him for being approached or pulled over by a cop simply because of his skin color. As a single mother, I was able to buy a home in an established neighborhood with no challenges to my right to be there. Soon after I moved in, one of my neighbors, when she saw a brown-skinned woman looking at a nearby house for sale, muttered, “We don’t want your kind here.” I didn’t agree with her, but I said nothing.

Those of us who love the earth and care about her inhabitants often seem to forget that human beings are also creatures of this beautiful planet we love. Justice for humans is earth justice too.

Under her beauty, Earth remembers. If I listen, I may even hear the stones cry out for change.

It’s time. As Wendy pointed out earlier this month, the roots of injustice are being exposed once again. We cannot return to complacency. Among those gnarls, are small roots of hope sending out shoots. Let’s nourish them.

Though the gestures aren’t grand, here’s what I’m doing:

• Educating myself. I’m learning more about the concept of race through this podcast—Seeing White, and the history of slavery via 1619 podcast.
• Practicing. I’ll be reading and doing the practices in My Grandmother’s Hands by Resmaa Menakem.
• Giving. I’ve donated to the NAACP Legal Defense Fund, the Poor People’s Campaign, and Soul Fire Farm.
• Engaging. I’ve started talking with “my peeps” (i.e. other white people) about what I’m learning and what we can do.

And the next time a friend or neighbor makes a racist comment, I won’t stay silent.

“It may be that some little root of the sacred tree still lives. Nourish it then, that it may leaf and bloom and fill with singing birds.”

Black Elk