Truth and Consequences

We're in another wave of racial unrest. Why, why, why yet another? Where is the leadership? Where are the solutions? Where is the real change that creates a turning point for our country?

A few days ago I had a personal experience that went beyond these questions. Backstory: my neighbor, an African-American man named Charles, has a history of setting fires. Four times, that the neighborhood can document at least, he's lit a fire that got out of control and either did do property damage or needed the fire dept there to prevent damage. The third and fourth times threatened my home and family.

I have watched this man light a giant brush fire full of uprooted trees in the middle of a dry, tall grassy field (a wild meadow where the grasses grow 4-5 feet tall) and then get in his truck and drive away. I watched those flames reach 6 feet high and come roaring towards my home while I waited and wondered if our volunteer fire department was going to make it in time. I heard the panic in the first responder's voice when he radioed for backup upon seeing the flames. I heard from the fire chief, later, that they found paint cans and other illegal chemicals in the fire and was told that when confronted about them Charles immediately stated he didn't know anything about those chemicals because, "I wasn't there; some neighbor must've hidden them in my burn pile and then lit it up."

So, this guy intentionally drives away and abandons a fire just so he can claim no responsibility for the illegal chemicals he's burning? He owns 40 acres and could've placed that burn pile anywhere, but he puts it right among houses--yet also far away from any water source; he owns animals so he has hoses and tanks and such--just so he can blame his own neighbors for what's in the fire? Or, is it to blatantly threaten the rest of us? Is this a power trip? I don't know why. But I do know that he's a horrible person. He is.

After the fourth fire event I believe he got a warning from the fire department and there haven't been any more fires for years. This summer a new neighbor moved onto our road and has begun helping Charles with farm projects. Next thing I know, there's a new brush pile starting in the exact same spot. Damn it.

I hold my tongue for about a week while I debate all kinds of ideas that involve reporting him to the authorities. But I'm just not the kind of person to tattle on my neighbors. So, a few days ago when I saw the new neighbor out mowing I approached and introduced myself so we could chat. His name is Ed. We talked about our kids and getting them together when the stay at home order is lifted. We realized we grew up in towns not too far apart and chatted about that area of our state. It was a nice, neighborly chat for 10-15 minutes. About three minutes of that was me asking about the burn pile and him assuring me that he will plow the grass down around the fire before they burn and he will remain on site during the fire. I offered the use of my own hoses to provide a water source and he kindly appreciated that and said he'd let me know when they were going to burn so I could get those set up for him. (The irony of my house being closer to a neighbor's burn pile than his own house even when the man owns 40 open acres and could situate that burn pile anywhere should not be lost on anyone here, but, whatever.)

I did NOT get into any of the past history with Charles with the new neighbor, Ed. I didn't say anything to Ed that I wouldn't have said if Charles were standing right there. It was all positive and helpful.

Two days later Charles accosts me in my front yard and proceeds to use every version of the F-word grammatically possible while calling me a racist bitch and that I had "intimidated and oppressed" him by choosing to talk to the white man instead of the black man. It was deeply offensive that I'd talked to the white man about the black man's land. As if the black man wasn't qualified and we white people had to go around him and manage the situation.

Charles is exactly right that that is exactly what I did do. I went around him. I "managed" the situation with a neighbor. But I did it because Charles is bat shit crazy and insanely difficult to talk to and that man has willfully acted in a way that would hurt my family and home and I don't trust or like him.

I acted in response to his actions. Actions have consequences. Charles sets fires. Neighbors don't trust him because he sets fires. Race is not remotely a factor here.

At least that's how I see it. Clearly he does not. Perception is everything. Quite frankly, I thought I was being nice by trying to resolve my concerns about a new brush pile in a calm, neighborly way. I could've taken pictures for documentation, called the police, called the fire department, etc. (All things I thought about and rejected.) I think I was being racially sensitive by opting NOT to call the police on the black man. But in Charles' mind I chose a course that intentionally emasculated him before a white man. Perception, perception, perception.

So, when Charles was standing at my fence his face full of anger and hurt, tears in his eyes, his voice quavering and his words tumbling incoherently I just stood there. I took it. I told myself, what is the one thing every white person has been lectured to do in the face of black rage? Be quiet. Listen. Let this moment happen. You are just the point person for years of pent up anger from big and small racial injustices and your obligation is not to excuse or apologize or explain away anything. Your role, if you care about racial healing, is to be still. Listen.

I let that man rant so loudly that my sons, inside the house, heard him calling me a fucking bitch and my husband and I racist fuckers. I kept my face still and my posture neutral. I did not agree but I certainly did not protest. The only words I said, when he was genuinely asking for a response was either, "I don't know anything about that" or "I understand that is your perception". (Because he was going off into imaginary land with some of his claims of evidence of our racism towards him.)

I let him speak, but I did not excuse him, either. The picture of him driving away from that fire he'd just set will never, ever leave my mind. On the day I saw him drive away, I was standing beside my car in my driveway about to leave the house and run errands. Five minutes earlier and I would've been gone and would've left my mother and two young sons alone in the house unaware that a fire was roaring towards them. I believe I heard God's voice that day when I was itching to get in the car and dash off to the store while I had a break from the kids. It was one word: WAIT. I heard it three times and I obeyed.

I believe God intervened that day to save my home. I believe God guided me in the face of Charles' rage-filled onslaught three days ago. Because, I stayed perfectly calm while Charles ranted but then, at the very end, when he was done and turning to walk away, I asked this one question: "Do you have a burn permit?"

Well, that vaulted him right back to level ten shrieking crazy. He didn't like that question one bit (because I'm certain his right to burn has been permanently revoked and he is deeply embarrassed and angered that the white man is oppressing his right to burn down the neighborhood). I knew it'd make him crazy to ask that question but I asked it anyway because: actions have consequences.

He chose to irresponsibly set fires. Now he's accountable for those choices. And I will not be intimidated or distracted by rants about racism when it comes to protecting my family. He can try to make this issue about racism but for me it's only about the fires and I won't be intimidated away from holding him accountable for those fires.

I listened to my neighbor rage about racism. I watched videos of demonstrations in cities turn violent. I heard my neighbor used horrible language that attacked my soul. I watched protestors destroying and looting random store fronts.

I am sympathetic to the rage against chronic, systemic injustice. But. Societies are complex; human relationships are complicated. People don't function as simple equations where the right input can solve for x. There is no exact level of violence that can cancel out prior harm. An eye for an eye is just another eye and another and another.

So I pray for another Martin Luther King Jr. I pray for another Malcom X (in his latter years, anyway!). I pray for leadership that can guide us out of this. I pray that we, as a society, be truly humbled and ready to listen and change and accept that leadership. Because dear Lord we need it.