This past week, I, like many of you, jumped in on #BlackoutTuesday. The injustice of George Floyd’s murder plagued me. I took the week to listen, think, pray, read, and ponder. Now, I have some thoughts. As I mentioned in my last post, my white voice is probably one of the last voices that should be listened to. After a week of study and prayer, I’m even more convinced of that. But, I feel compelled to speak anyway. I’m more and more convinced that, as with all important issues, ineloquently opening the door to conversation is better than silence.
Like many of you, I’ve gone back and forth as to whether or not to post my thoughts on this issue. My voice isn’t the one you should listen to, and nothing really qualifies me to write on the subject. I don’t have the right words to say or answers. But, at the same time, I feel like I have to say something. The issue is too important. The phrase “we’ve come here today to dramatize a shameful condition” (from Martin Luther King, Jr.’s I Have a Dream speech) comes to mind.
As Struggle Bus has spread, I’ve received some variation of the following question repeatedly: “Can you tell me how to write and publish a book?” If you’re someone who would like an answer to that question, this post is for you! If not, well, ignore this. There are a lot of words here. A lot of words.
It’s weird to know that we’re living in one of those moments that will be permanently etched into the pages of the history books, isn’t it? Even more, it’s weird that this event has escalated to the point that it won’t be relegated strictly to the history books. No, COVID-19 will find its way into virtually every other textbook as well: science and biology and finance and management and IT and economics and supply chain management and political science and psychology and journalism and education and nursing. It’s our kids’ “Back in my day…” story. It’s our “Remember when…”