Fighting for environmental justice also means fighting for social and racial justice. This statement needs
unpacking, but for today I hope you can just trust it to be true.
I heard Al Sharpton speak at the funeral service for Goerge Floyd in Minneapolis. As Martin Luther King,
Jr. did 50 years ago, he proclaimed that this is the time for major changes in society; that the work begun
in the 1860s to liberate black folks is still not done. Yes, he said, we have eliminated slavery, overcome
Jim Crow laws, outlawed segregation, and now it is time to eliminate police brutality and social injustices
that still remain.
When Sharpton called for the congregation to stand for eight minutes and forty six seconds – the time
a police officer’s knee was pressed against Floyd’s neck – I also stood up at my computer. As I thought
about what George experienced as his life ebbed away while calling out, “I can’t breathe,” tears rolled
down my cheeks. I grieved for the many people of colour who have suffered police brutality over the years,
but I also grieved the fact that I have found it convenient to be part of the silent majority that often fails to
stand up for justice.
You see, I have skin in this game. Seven members of my immediate family have much darker skin than
I do because of DNA imported from Africa one way or another. Someone recently said to her
dark-skinned son, “Now you are a cute kid, but soon you will be a young man who will be seen as a
threat because of your skin colour.” It struck me this past week that my 17-year-old grandson who got
his driver’s license last year will be viewed differently behind the wheel than his white buddies. Or
indeed his grandpa! Six foot four with dark skin and an afro will likely get him pulled over more often
than others – and then what?
Most of the discrimination experienced by people of colour never makes the news cycle. A cup of hot
chocolate refused my daughter-in-law until her white friends piled on the attendant at The Forks. A pious,
white person crossing the street in Altona to avoid meeting someone of colour face-to-face. Or the time
I called someone out while registering for a plot at the community garden for a racial slur she uttered.
Or the fear people of colour often have of being overlooked.
My life has truly been enriched these past few years volunteering at the Altona Community Garden
where I have had the chance to get to know many people of varying shades of black or brown. My heart
thrills when I see cross-cultural relationships developing at the garden. There is beauty in diversity and I
am thankful for the many folks in Altona who have welcomed people of colour from around the world and
gone out of their way to help them feel at home here.
But I realize I still have work to do. I must do more to accept, respect and welcome new immigrants and
indigenous folks into my life. But I know this cannot just be a mental exercise. It will require actually
getting to know and appreciate people who are different from me.
Written by Jack Heppner for ACAN
ACAN seeks to educate and inspire sustainable practices in our community.
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