Tuesday, August 22, 2023
An Intro to Climate Change.
Monday, August 21, 2023
Abolishing Ecological Apartheid
Abolishing Ecological Apartheid: A Community-led Response
to Climate Inequity
If you grew up in the 70’s and 80s’ like I did, the word
“apartheid” probably evokes very specific feelings and memories. As a teenager coming
of age in the Reagan era of “Trickle-Down” Economics and racist “welfare-queen”
dog-whistle politics, I distinctly remember the competing narratives around
what was happening in South Africa. I remember Reagan and his supporters’
narrative(s) that Nelson Mandela and the African National Congress (ANC) were
radical extremists who “engaged
in calculated terror.” I remember the battles between the Reagan White
House and Congress over the types, and severity of sanctions that would be
levied against the South African government; including a presidential veto of a
1986 sanctions bill and the overwhelming 313-83
House of Representatives vote to override said veto.
But I also remember my parents (still a few years away from
settling down and starting our family during the rise of the Black Power
Movement of late 1960’s) who interpreted Mandela and the ANC through a different
lens. I remember them talking about Mandela with the same respectful tones with
which they spoke of Harriet Tubman, Rosa Parks, Fannie Lou Hamer, Martin Luther
King Jr., and Malcolm X.
I remember calls from church elders and other Black folk I
respected, not simply to impose sanctions, but to completely divest from South
Africa until the government dismantled the oppressive apartheid system that
kept the Black South African majority living in the margins of their own
culture and society.
As I was preparing to graduate from high school, Nelson
Mandela was released from Robins Island Prison in February 1990 and his release
offered a beacon of hope that the oppressive system, which had unjustly imprisoned
him for 27 years and had marginalized his people for nearly a half century,
might finally be dismantled. Of course, it took a few more years beyond his
release but, legislatively at least, apartheid as a formal political system was
abolished in 1994 with Mandela’s election as South Africa’s President. Informally
however, many of the same oppressive conditions that defined Black South
African existence from 1948 to 1994 persist to this day.
A few weeks ago, In the lead-up to a panel discussion in
which I was invited to participate, the agenda shifted from event logistics to how we should
frame the climate conversation. Some
panelists pondered whether we should use “climate change” while others offered
“climate crisis” as a more appropriate description. Eventually, it was agreed
that “Climate Crisis” was the best way to frame the issue(s) at hand. But after
the meeting, as I worked on my portion of the presentation, I was left with the
feeling that both “climate change” and “climate crisis”, while indeed apt
descriptions, were passive designations that do not fully capture the essence
of the predicament in which we find ourselves.
“Change” and “Crisis” are overly broad terms that let us off
the individual and collective hook a little too easily. In the face of “change”
or “crisis” we are too often tempted to throw up our hands in weak resignation
to the often-overwhelming realities of where we are and how we got here. And
it’s that “how we got here” part that has me revisiting my adolescent memories
of Mandela and the fight against the brutality of South Africa’s apartheid
regime.
In the same way that South Africa’s government engaged in a deliberate
and decades-long racially motivated campaign of segregation and subjugation,
the United States government has engaged in sustained local, state, and federal
public policy actions that have disenfranchised Black people, poisoned Black
communities, and divested resources from Black institutions. Going back to the
establishment of the Federal Housing Administration in 1934, which is a good
starting point for the current climate conversation because the formal practices
of redlining and racial covenants which were woven into the fabric of America’s
burgeoning housing and urban development policy became the primary factors in determining
which neighborhoods received investment and which neighborhoods were deemed “risky”
and “undesirable.” While America was working overtime to build beautiful suburban
oases to which white families could flee, redlined Black neighborhoods were
rated in such a way that lenders would not write mortgages and insurance
companies would not write policies for aspiring Black homeowners.
Combine those realities with city and state policy decisions
to under invest in tree canopy, parks, and other green spaces in Black
neighborhoods, and the result is a toxic stew of generational wealth
deprivation, adverse public health outcomes, poorly funded schools, and hotter,
less safe, and less livable communities. Like South African Apartheid, every
outcome of American urban decay and suburban sprawl has been engineered by
public policy. And like South African Apartheid, the only way toward justice is
abolition. As Bishop Desmond Tutu so pointedly proclaimed in a 1986
speech at Stanford University: “We are not
interested in reforming Apartheid. You don’t reform a Frankenstein. You destroy
a Frankenstein.”
However, as history has taught us, Frankenstein-esqe
oppressive systems and structures like Apartheid are only abolished through sustained,
targeted, deliberate acts of resistance. Furthermore, successful abolition
campaigns have always been conceived, led, and implemented from the ground up
by the very people most impacted by the oppressive system. While America, and
other Western nations’ law makers took victory laps and patted themselves on
the back for finally ending Apartheid in the mid 1990’s, it was the Black South
African people, on the ground in Soweto, and Johannesburg, and Cape Town who ensured
that a political revolution took place.
For over three decades the climate conversation,
domestically and on a global level, has largely been driven by white people and
white organizations. Their prescriptions for how to “right the ship” have far
too often ignored the voices and lived experiences of those who bear the disproportionate
brunt of Eco-Apartheid’s devasting effects.
As dire as things might seem, however, there is still hope that the world can reverse the effects of Ecological Apartheid and build safe, sustainable ecosystems for our children’s children. If that hope is to be realized we all must take a page (or two, or the whole manuscript) from the playbook of marginalized people around the world who have, in all places, and at all times, innovated solutions to problems they did not create while simultaneously building systems, structures, and institutions that benefit the world.
Rev. Dr. Jon Robinson is the Senior Program Manager for
the Metropolitan AME Church/Smart Surfaces Coalition eco-justice program. For more information on this initiative visit
https://smartsurfacescoalition.org/
Thursday, February 6, 2020
Critical Church Conversations
In September of 2019 I was appointed to pastor St. Peter's AME Church in Minneapolis, MN. The transition from Chicago has been slow but smooth and I've found the church to be a warm, welcoming group of Christ followers.
Like many mainline denominational churches St. Peter's is experiencing a shift. The surrounding community is changing. The membership is aging. And the climate around religion in America continues to shift. As we imagine who God is calling us to be in this season some questions have emerged.
One of which is: "what would our church look like if we began to think of ourselves as existing, not simply in our community, but for our community's good? The article posted here talks about asset based community development and the importance of using the gifts, tools, and resources our churches already posses to transform, not only our congregations, but the communities around us.
The question we have been wrestling with at St. Peter's is this: "if we were to move or close our doors tomorrow, would the community/neighborhood/city miss us?" This rhetorical question is designed to stimulate our thinking about our role in the community and our ability to meet the needs of the people around us.
We have a divine mandate to love our neighbor as ourselves. Love, like faith, without works is dead. At St. Peter's we are striving to become a church that loves God and seeks radical ways to love God's people.
Tuesday, March 27, 2018
March For Our Lives
The conversation around these incidents is perhaps the most illogical conversation taking place right now. Because the same people who love to trumpet the fact that we're a "nation of laws", living under the "rule of law" are the same people telling us that gun-control laws won't be effective. We can legislate everything else, including which people can use which bathroom or who gets to sell (or not) sell wedding cakes to whom. But laws in this case, are inappropriate. The hypocrisy is astounding.
But let's apply this logic to other scenarios. Laws against murder won't stop people from committing murder, so lets just scrap all murder laws. Or sexual assault laws. Or any other law for that matter. Since people are just going to do whatever the hell they want to do, let's retire all judges, lawyers, police officers, investigators and anybody else associated with law enforcement because laws are meaningless. Nobody would make such an asinine suggestion.
Yet, when it comes to gun-control, that's exactly what conservatives are suggesting. And it gets even worse because instead of finding a legislative solution, people are proposing (with a straight face mind you) that we arm teachers to combat school shootings. We can't find money for school supplies, arts programs, or books but we can find resources to arm and train teachers and administrators? And even if we could, the idea would still be the dumbest idea ever because guns in schools is precisely what we're trying to avoid, not encourage. And while we're on the subject of guns in school, do you really want to be a Black teacher holding a gun when the cops show up? I mean if they're killing unarmed black folk indiscriminately because they "fear for their lives" then what fears do you think will be stoked when they pull up to an active shooter situation and the black principal is packing?
The parade of dumb ideas doesn't stop at the White House however. Because former senator and one-time presidential hopeful Rick Santorum has suggested that instead of trying to change laws, students should "take responsibility for themselves, stop looking for somebody else to solve their problems, and learn CPR." The dumbass-ness of that comment doesn't warrant a response, I simply reference it to illustrate the depths to which this conversation has devolved.
And so, as has been the case historically, our children have been forced to take the lead and do what adults have failed to do. Children in 2018 are exhibiting more courage, common sense and compassion than the adults who raised them. Children are finding their voice and refusing to be silenced and I'm ecstatic to see where this leads.
Wednesday, March 11, 2015
The Privileged MInd
Friday, October 25, 2013
Revisionist History
I ran across the article above on Facebook and had a severe case of de ja vu.
Every now and then when I feel adventurous, I watch a few minutes of Fox News (I can't stomach much more than a few minutes at a time) and I hear some version of this revisionist history repeated as though it's the Fox News talking head mantra. The argument goes something like this: "We're the party of Lincoln. We helped free you people. Why are you blindly supporting the party who opposed your emancipation?"
These sentiments are always directed at African American Democratic voters. The modern Republican mind cannot fathom the overwhelming support that Democrats receive from the African American community. After all, why would we vote for a party that opposed our emancipation? Why vote for a party that stood in the way of comprehensive Civil Rights reform?
While those are good questions, they miss the mark because they presuppose that both parties are the same now as they were then. The fact of the matter is that during the Civil Right's Movement (and even prior to that with Truman's efforts to desegregate the military in the late 40's) both parties underwent a bit of a makeover. The Democratic Party under the leadership of President Kennedy and culminating with President Johnson, began pushing for legal measures to address issues of racial inequality. In 1964 President Johnson signed the Civil Rights Act into law and a year later the Voting Rights Act. Upon signing the CRA, Johnson declared: "We've lost the South for a generation." He was right, except that's it's been two generations and counting.
The push for equal rights caused an exodus of Southern Dixie-crats to the Republican Party which meant that those who were vehemently opposed to racial equality were no longer residing in the Democratic Party. They found a new home and relocated to fairer GOP lands, set up camp, and never left.
Now by no means am I suggesting that all Republicans are racist. However, the problem the party has now is the same problem it had during the Civil Rights Movement. They have allowed radical groups of ideologues to hijack the party. During the 60's it was the converted Dixiecrats. In the 2000's it was the TEA party. Moderate Republicans do not reflect the radical views of the TEA Party now, nor did they reflect the views of the racist party hoppers of the 60's but in both instances, the more moderate among them have been unable to control the messaging or the policies of the more radical factions. And as a result, the party of Lincoln bears absolutely no resemblance to today's brand of Republican politics, nor does the modern incarnation of the Democratic Party resemble its anti-abolition, anti-equality forbears.
To be fair however, there are issues of race within both parties and the racist legacy of the Democratic Party is real. But an attempt to lay all the baggage of America's racist history at the feet of the Democratic Party while ignoring the glaring racism of the GOP; particularly in the Post Civil Rights Era, is disingenuous, manipulative and revisionist. It's not Democrats who launched the birther movement. It's not Democrats who are uncharacteristically opposing and obstructing the only Black President in our nation's history. It's not Democrats who are openly hoping that the President, and by default, the country will fail. The credit for these lovely sentiments belongs solely to the GOP. Funny, but I just don't see Lincoln endorsing any of this type of nonsense.
Monday, July 22, 2013
Two Deaths. Three Tragedies
Most of the people I know didn't need confirmation from a juror to determine that Zimmerman went too far. We knew it as soon as the few initial details of the incident were revealed last year. We knew it because, like Trayvon Martin that night, many of us have been profiled, targeted, viewed as suspicious and subsequently confronted; by police, department/convenience store employees, white women in elevators or the average citizen on the street who clutches their purses a little more tightly, makes sure to lock their doors suddenly, or tries to shrink and disappear into the corner of the elevator as they pray to God to just "get them out of this situation (and by situation I mean merely being in the presence of a big, scary, suspicious black man) safely."
When the verdict was announced I was with my wife and two of our young people who were preparing to minister the next morning in church. We were on our way to have dinner at our hotel and saw the breaking news coverage on a television in the hotel lobby. As disappointing and heartbreaking as it was to see and hear, none of us was surprised. In fact we had anticipated Zimmerman's acquittal. But hearing my young people, who are 18 and 17 express their sadness and fear was gut wrenching. They asked questions like "why aren't our lives as valuable as other people's lives seem to be?" and they made statements like "that could easily have been me." And they were correct. It could have been them because like Trayvon Martin my young people wear hoodies. Like Trayvon Martin my young people often walk down the street either talking on a cell phone or with ear buds attached to an MP3 player. Like Trayvon Martin my young people are black and have been on the receiving end of racial profiling.
And on a fundamental level, for people of color, black men in particular, that's all this case really boils down to. At the end of the day, had a white male been walking in Zimmerman's neighborhood, had it been Cory Monteith, or someone who looked like him, Zimmerman would not have been compelled to call the police. Zimmerman wouldn't have been compelled to get out of his car and give chase. He wouldn't have been inclined to engage in any contact at all and there wouldn't have been any confrontation, much less a violent confrontation that ended in a young boy's death.
And speaking of Cory Monteith, I can't help but notice the public sympathy his death is receiving. "Gone too soon." "The tragic loss of the boy next door." These and similar expressions have dominated the headlines of almost every magazine and news paper in the last week. And his death, as any young man's death would be, is indeed tragic. But I also can't help but notice the striking differences in the perception and treatment of Cory and Trayvon. Trayvon has never been described as the "boy next door." In fact, just the opposite is true. Trayvon, who had traces of marijuana in his system has been criminalized, caricatured and demonized as everything from a smoked out thug to a ghetto hoodlum. His character has been assassinated not only in the courtroom but in the court of public opinion.
Cory on the other hand, who died from a lethal combination of alcohol and heroin, has not been caricatured. Cory has not been demonized. He has not been stereotyped. Cory's death has been lamented. Cory's life was cut down way too young at 31. But the tragic end of Trayvon's life at 17 was essentially justified by the acquittal of his killer on the same night that Cory's death snuffed out a "shining star".
The reality is that both young men's lives came to a needless end. Both deaths are tragic. But an even greater tragedy is that while the nation weeps and mourns for one of them and in fact has elevated him to almost martyr status, the other young man who died 17 months ago is still, even in his death, being portrayed as less than human, a problem that needed to be dealt with. And he was dealt with. Violently. And conclusively. And his killer is free. A grown man followed, confronted, and killed a BOY and got away with it. And that tragic reality should strike fear in the hearts of every parent, every aunt, uncle or surrogate who has a male, teenaged loved one; especially if that young male is black.
George Zimmerman's acquittal declared open season on young black males and sent a message that it's perfectly justifiable and excusable to kill a black boy as long as the perpetrator says it was done in self defense. If you think that's hyperbole or histrionics, look at the headlines of incidents that have happened since Trayvon was killed.
http://www.policymic.com/articles/54339/black-17-and-shot-dead-in-florida-why-isn-t-jordan-davis-getting-the-attention-travyon-martin-is
http://newsone.com/2028377/walter-henry-butler-port-st-joe-florida/
There have been no verdicts rendered in these two cases but regardless of what the juries declare, there is no denying that race, like it did in the Zimmerman/Martin case, played a role in these confrontations. And until we are ready to confront this reality instead of talking around it or attempting to sweep it under the rug, rumors of a post-racial America will continue to be greatly exaggerated.