I’ve always been one to consider myself as colorblind.  I don’t notice color for anything more than a simple description, along with male, female, tall, short, etc.  But over the last year, my husband and I have felt convicted that we aren’t doing enough to truly expose ourselves and our family to different cultures and perspectives.  We live in a homogeneous neighborhood in a homogeneous school district.  And I’ll be honest, we did it on purpose.  We wanted our kids to grow up in a great, safe neighborhood and be challenged from the beginning in school.  However, we never wanted them to be ignorant of how the real world works.

About a year and a half ago, David and I felt a true calling to the inner city of Fort Wayne.  David especially felt called to be a strong male role model in a place where male role models are few to nonexistent.  We began praying for God to open doors, but we were waiting on God to bring something to our door.  We attended a Martin Luther King Jr. memorial service, where we were definitely in the minority.  It was an entirely different experience than what I expected.  I encourage every white person to intentionally put themselves in a situation where they are the minority.  It helped me empathize with anyone who has ever felt uncomfortable in a situation.

Even though I was uncomfortable, I tried to hide it.  I was greeted right away and shown where to go and where the restrooms were.  Each person I walked past went out of their way to make us feel welcome.  We worshipped and listened to a pastor preach.  We also heard a round table discussion on how we can improve race relations, and help children in the inner city succeed.  I loved every part of the evening.  The discomfort I felt at the beginning melted away, and I felt like I was home.

When David and I were driving home that night, we decided that we should go to the inner city instead of waiting for them to come to us.  We started at a church that next Sunday, and we’ve been going ever since.  I had the same feeling when I entered the new church that Sunday morning.  While I felt completely overwhelmed with how different the new congregation did church, I also felt like I found my home away from home.  After singing a few songs, everyone stood up and went around hugging everyone else.  I tried to shake a hand, and the lady grabbed my hand and pulled me into an embrace.  I melted.  This is how church should feel.  Like a big, happy family.

Since we started at the inner city church, I’ve been doing more research on my own time.  I want to educate myself about life from a different perspective.  I just finished a book called Why Are All the Black Kids Sitting Together in the Cafeteria? by Beverly Daniel Tatum, PhD.  Dr. Tatum used an illustration that has stuck with me every day since I read it.  She describes the difference between those that say they aren’t racist, versus those that actually do something to combat racism.

So my challenge to you is this: Go out and do something, no matter how small, to be antiracist.  You’re not a racist?  Good for you.  Prove it!