My friend was in Charlottesville to offer a non-violent presence when the recent chaos erupted.
Ann and I have served together for more than a decade as pastors at Massanutten Presbyterian Church. I know her to be a faithful pastor with a keen mind, a compassionate spirit, and a servant’s heart.
And, for what it’s worth, she’s also a hoot.
Ann is also my friend.
While I was grateful she decided to go to Charlottesville, I confess that I was afraid for her. Each time my phone buzzed throughout that Saturday, I rushed to answer to find out if Ann and her daughter, Brigid, were still safe. And I was so relieved to get the text that they had arrived home safely.
In the days since, Ann has processed the things she saw and heard in Charlottesville. Through her sharing, she has also opened my eyes to things I have been slow to understand. I asked her to share her thoughts by way of an interview on my blog, and I am thrilled that she agreed. I am confident you will be as well.
How did your decision to go to Charlottesville happen?
It started with an email, forwarded by a colleague.
The subject line read: Clergy Call for love over fear in Charlottesville.
On August 12, will you please join us in prayer and in person in Charlottesville, Virginia? We call on white clergy, especially, to join us in person. This is a call for partnership in direct, nonviolent action on a crucial day for our city, and in a critical moment for our country. We need your prayerful presence.
What were your initial thoughts upon reading that?
There was a time when I might have simply deleted the message, a time when such activism was just ‘not me’ – my Call is to pastoral ministry, not to stir up trouble. Even the day I received it, late in July, I was conflicted on how to respond. My understanding and convictions about justice, mercy and faithfulness have deepened over the years – but I’m not an activist. That word – activism – has always conjured up images of strident and aggressive rhetoric spewed at people in demeaning ways. That’s just not who I am.
How did you get past that initial thinking?
A story I recently heard on the radio stirred me. A writer, Michele Oberholtzer, took a job to make ends meet, riding a bike around the city of Detroit, evaluating homes in foreclosure. Invariably, the homeowner would come talk to her. Sometimes, she discovered, they didn’t even know their homes were in foreclosure, so she became the face of that heartbreaking news. Michelle knew at the foreclosure auction, $500.00 could be all it would take to buy back the home, but $500.00 might as well have been $500,000.00 for these families. Michele found herself compelled to do something; she set up a fund soliciting donations, and when she thought she had enough money, she watched the auction and made the bid. Sometimes it was the winning bid, and a family’s home would be saved. This job, which started simply as a way to make money, changed her life. Her experience with the people moved her and compelled her to do something. In the end, she said ‘I’m an activist, because all you have to do to be an activist is to take action.’
Michele’s story changed how I see activism – it became a logical response when injustice and opportunity intersect. As I considered this call to take action in Charlottesville, her words swirled around in my head; at what was almost the 11th hour, I replied with my plans to be there on Saturday – to come and worship and pray; to be present in a non-violent, faithful response to protests that day.
What exactly did you do in Charlottesville?
I began by attending the 6:00 am worship service at West Main Street First Baptist Church. Speakers from near and far offered faithful and encouraging words, even as they clearly named Racism and white supremacy as the sins that they are, and acknowledged their insidious hold on all of us.
When we left the sanctuary, those of us not trained for direct action marched to McGuffey Park, where we heard from more community members as well as those who had traveled to take a stand against hate.
Are you glad you responded to the Clergy Call?
Yes, but I regret my slow response, and I confess my reluctance to go at all. I regret I didn’t go on Friday, to join with other clergy in the training to be part of the non-violent direct action – even as I am grateful we were safe and unharmed.
What did you learn from your participation?
My understanding of privilege was deepened by simply choosing to do the safe thing – a choice available to me by virtue of the color of my skin. Our nation’s racial history makes that clear, as does every racially motivated crime and protest that hits the news. But it’s clear in other ways: driving my car, walking down the street, meandering around a store, talking on the phone – all of these things and many more make me aware of how much easier my life is because I am white.
Do you think you’ll do something like this again?
I do – that morning, I held fear, awareness and regret in tension as Brigid and I made our way to McGuffey Park. I know I’m just another white person beginning to come to terms with my part in an entrenched culture of racism, but I also know I have a choice with what I do with that. And more importantly as a person of faith, I am called to take action. And by God’s grace, I will.
Suggested Books:
Between the World and Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates.
Waking Up White, and Finding Myself in the Story of Race by Debby Irving.
White Like Me: Reflections on Race from a Privileged Son by Tim Wise.
Matt Hamblen
I confess that I would have been worried about going to Charlottesville that Saturday. I say that because of bad memories. I was a young reporter at a neo-Nazi press event in the early 80s when the group announced its intent to protest in mostly Jewish Skokie, Ill. It was spooky sitting feet away from a man articulating his hate. He stood before an enormous red backdrop emblazened with a 10-foot swastika. I was trembling by the time I left. My boss was smart enough to send me off to the actual protest by the Nazis–defended by the ACLU. It was mid-day, very hot, and an enormous crowd threw batteries and rocks at the four Nazis as they crept out of a park shed to speak. The police in riot gear took the brunt of the response that day and the protest lasted less than 30 minutes. Nobody was killed. I left thinking, “There aren’t many winners in violent protests,” but years later realized, ‘Could Skokie *not* have stood up against hatred?’ Lately I’ve come to think that Christians need to make sure that other people know where we stand *all the time*. We can’t be passive anti-racists; we have to be active anti-racists. I just need to learn the right techniques for peacefully showing my point of view. Thanks John so much for posting this and to Ann for sharing. MH
John P. Leggett
Thanks, Matt. I appreciate your call to be active anti-racists. Nice distinction. And I am grateful for the ways your life reflects this in powerful ways.
Sam Gerace, Sr.
Thank you for serving to support what is just and right for our democracy, as things turned out, it was a courageous activity. Most importantly, standing up for diversity has cowered the white nationalists, the 40,000 marchers in Boston and your marching in Charlottesville forced the white nationalist to cancel all future marches for white supremacy. And the leader of the Charlottesville march was reduced to tears when an arrest warrant was issued shortly thereafter.. He has been denied bail and now languishes in prison awaiting formal charges,
You made a difference that was immeasurable.
Mack Wilson
Ann,
It is wonderful that you went and supported the Christian approach to the mess the world and this country are in at this time. I pray that God will be in the minds of everyone around the world, including the U.S., to bring reason to us all.
Patricia Armstrong
JUST READING THIS ACCOUNT BY ANN HAS MADE ME MORE AWARE OF THE NEED TO DO WHATEVER I CAN DO TO BE PROACTIVE AGAINST HATRED AND RACISM. THANK YOU ANN FOR YOUR COURAGE. YOU ARE AN INSPIRATION FOR SURE.
John P. Leggett
Thanks, Patricia. I agree with every word you’ve written here!