Today, TJ and I woke up safe in our small apartment in our safe small town. We had our choice of what to eat for breakfast, of what to wear to church.
We went to our safe, small lightly diverse church and worshiped Jesus without a ton of thought.
And then afterward, we drove our too-nice car that we can afford to finance to Applebee's, the epitome of middle class American dining.
We had a friendly waitress who seemed frazzled, probably new, and brought us too many refills and forgot my salad. I was prepared to leave her a poor tip.
And then she brought us our bill.
"I hope you guys have a great day, whatever you are going to do. And a wonderful year. I know things are getting a little crazy out there ... ," she said, and I smiled, because yeah, things are getting hectic in Moscow, it's that time of year. But she hesitated and, almost as if she was wondering whether to say more, but added, "... in the world."
Our eyes met briefly, and I knew what she meant. It wasn't Moscow and the influx of students we'll see this week. It wasn't the craziness of construction. It wasn't even just overall life hecticness she was referring to.
"It's getting a little crazy out there in the world."
She was talking about Charlotesville.
My nice white family sat in our nice, middle class restaurant, where we served by a young black waitress, who went above and beyond to be friendly, in spite of that fact that every morning that she wakes up in this nation lately, she likely feels a little less safe.
We talk a lot of "white privilege," and it gets scoffed and people (white people) complain about the assumption that we're somehow protected, regardless of our backgrounds or upbringings.
I gotta tell ya, sitting Applebee's today I faced my white privilege.
White privilege is being able to wake up and watch the news and see what's happening around our nation and say, "This doesn't apply to me."
White privilege is watching members of your own race do horrible things and ignore it. Because that's not you. That's not your circle. Those uneducated racists don't represent MY white America. This will never impact me.
My waitress might not be paying attention to the news. But I bet she is. I bet she saw it all over Facebook today. People sharing memes about Nazis and confederate flags and hate crimes. Headlines about death, commentary about police reactions and arrests. A president whose voice doesn't seem to extend far enough to protect her life, liberty and pursuit of happiness.
I bet she saw people being treated with hate for no reason other than because their skin is the same color as her skin.
I bet she wonders when those people will show up in Moscow. I bet she has a plan for what she'll do when they do.
As a woman, I do have a running list of things to do when I'm in a situation where I feel unsafe. Typically, if I'm alone in the dark. Or how to respond if I'm cat-called or objectified. But those plans often involve, "find a nice man to help me. Call the police."
I don't have a plan to deal with the police being part of the problem.
I bet she does.
I don't have an answer to any of this. I'm not going to throw out some general "wake up, white America." All we can do is see it, one at a time, for ourselves. How privileged we are. What that privilege gives us access to. And doing what we can to use that power to help people, to stand up against hate groups, to give up the idea that "tolerance" and "free speech" covers white supremacy and domestic terrorism. It doesn't. It shouldn't.
I gave our waitress a much bigger tip than I'd ever intended. It was, quite literally, the absolute least I could do.
I wish I could do better.
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