So this became pretty simple for us last week. We’ve lived in this small mountain community for more than eight years now. People are friendly but respect each other’s privacy. We wave at everyone. Most people wave back. We keep to ourselves except for a few folks we’ve gotten to know a bit over time, and old friends and family, of course. Truth be told, we’ve had busy, wonderful but also traumatic lives, and we’re exhausted. My SO still works, as he has for many years, from home.
We know we are privileged to live here after living in cities all our lives. (Miami, Denver, Colorado Springs.) We’ve raised six children who are now parents themselves. We’re white, but through happy circumstance and happenstance we’ve had opportunities in our lives to live “multiculturally” — even in our many years in conservative, Christian, Republican Colorado Springs. Which was not always so easy.
In those years, I taught Black History, co-taught Diversity Training, participated in task forces to get a formal CS Human Rights Council going, worked to get Ethnic Studies classes in all the high schools. I taught summers at the county youth detention center. Later I campaigned for Barack Obama with all my heart. Over the years, I lost friends and argued passionately with family many times over racial and LGBT issues, but I don’t regret a minute of it. I have always realized that what I experienced was NOTHING compared to my black neighbors experienced. (Or their adorable twin sons who were bullied and taunted at the all-white neighborhood school they attended.) Or my many beautiful black students. Or the bright, young, gay local PRIDE office president I got to know, or the amazing young Vietnamese intern who was working with immigrant families. They shared with me the pain and loneliness of trying to be a progressive in that city. They were both long gone before we left. We were beginning to feel the strain ourselves.
I’d retired early due to a brain injury, and with our kids grown, we realized we could live anywhere. We love Colorado, and much of our family is still in CS, so we just moved west some, to the beautiful, peaceful mountains. The first few nights we couldn’t sleep because of the quiet. It was like coming home.
Unfortunately, the politics are no different, just more spread out and muted.
I remain involved. Committed. Active. Daily Kos really helped me with that — building connections, keeping informed. We’ve been to many marches, protests, and campaign events, though we travel some to get there. We’ve connected with a few locals, but mostly, and especially since Covid, we keep to ourselves.
So what happened?
Last week, within a couple days, two different people that we “wave to” and occasionally chat with, stopped to “catch up.” One we really like, they bring us Christmas cookies and we give them fudge. The other is just a “sweet” lady who has dogs and likes our dog. She’s usually in her car, passing. In casual chit chat, from both of these separate people, we heard some version of:
“They say we’re supposed to stay home, but those protesters don’t have to stay home!”
or
“I don’t understand what the big deal is, ALL lives matter.”
We were stunned and dismayed. Not only were we let down by the “folks” who dropped these ignorant racist bombs on us, we were disgusted that they would assume that we felt the same. Why would they think we would agree with that sick thinking? Just because we’re white?
We discussed it together and decided we had to let them know who we are. We ordered a lovely Black Lives Matter flag and stand and it is now flying tastefully in our rock garden in front of our house. It’s been there for four or five days, and I love it more each day. I’m almost embarrassed to admit it was not a simple decision. We actually have a lot of crazy people up here in the woods. But we wave to everyone. And most of them wave back.
This is who we are. Just sayin’. Don’t talk that racist shit to us.
And, if you happen to think like us, know you’re not alone. And, if you happen to be black, know your life matters to us. ♥️
P.S. We wear small Black Lives Matter pins on our hat and backpack. Have for years. It’s not enough!