“You Are Completely Forgiven!”
I was facilitating a racial healing workshop and a Black co-facilitator courageously shared how crazy-making it is to be Black in America, knowing that racism exists, feeling its noxious presence under the surface in daily interactions, but not being able to pinpoint it.
(Honoring confidentiality, let’s call him Jerome. I also acknowledge that all I can share is my own imperfect memory of our dialogue that day and its profound impact on me.)
A few white folks in the room empathized with Jerome’s experience and how painful, infuriating, and disorienting it must have been for him, but their words landed as somewhat hollow. He wasn’t opening up the way you’d expect when someone felt fully recognized and received.
As a facilitator, I know the feeling that a truth is being held back in a group. I knew what he was talking about from my own perspective, but did I dare speak my side of the truth?
A flush of heat through my own body let me know that the truth was mine to speak. I remember thinking to myself – ”FUCK... do I really have to say this?” – and spinning in my head with mental calculations. Would I be causing harm? Would I lose all credibility as a facilitator?
But the situation and my soul demanded that I speak up and potentially put my head on the chopping block. I turned and faced Jerome from across the circle.
I think I know what you’re talking about from my experience as a white guy, and I want to validate that what you’re saying is absolutely true.
When I go to a gas station in this neighborhood [the Laurel District of Oakland] and see Black teenagers playing their music and joking around with their jeans sagging, my body tightens up. Even if I reassure myself I’m perfectly safe, on a deeper level I perceive a threat and I feel superior, and this colors how I behave.
I may say “Hey, what’s up…” but they can hear the tension in my voice. They can hear the dissonance and lack of ease, and all of the racist belief system underneath. And I just added to the pile of racism and dissonance that these teenagers already have to deal with.
I feel awful about it. I know it’s fucked up and I feel a ton of shame telling you this right now. I don’t want to be a racist, but it’s in me, and it’s deep. I don’t know what to do to get rid of it. But I did want to tell you you’re absolutely not crazy. That sort of gaslighting happens all the time.
The room was silent. My heart was beating out of my chest. I was afraid Jerome was going to yell at me or ask me to step out of the workshop.
You can imagine how surprised I was when he replied, with a lot of energy and a palpable huge-heartedness–
“Peter, you are completely forgiven!”
What?!
He must have seen the shock on my face, because he said it again.
“Peter, you are completely forgiven!”
The second time, it started to sink in a little, as it simultaneously revealed and demolished an entire system of beliefs and expectations I’d been carrying:
I thought that being a racist meant that I was bad.
I thought that admitting my racism would cause me to be punished.
I thought that admitting my racism would deepen my feeling of alienation from Jerome and the group until I paid some sort of penance for my wrongs, jumped through various hoops, rebuilt trust over time, and made re-commitments.
Receiving instant and unconditional forgiveness completely scrambled my script.
Jerome went on –
Peter, thank you SO MUCH for what you shared. I’ve NEVER heard anything like that from a white man. Way to go!
You see, I KNOW that shit happens all the time, and it’s finally time someone spoke up about it.
But all that shame and guilt you’re carrying? You gotta LET THAT GO. It doesn’t help me or anybody. You didn’t choose to be racist. It’s the soup we’re all swimming in.
You’re a good man, Peter. And like I said, you are completely forgiven.
His words fully released me from a burden of shame that I’d been carrying for my entire adult life. I was liberated and humbled by his generosity and grace.
Jerome certainly didn’t owe me forgiveness, but I realized that as much as it benefited me, it was also for him. As a deeply spiritual man, forgiveness was part of his spiritual practice. It liberated his own heart.
That day I recognized the importance of spirituality in anti-racism work – not as a bypass, but as a tool for recognizing the larger context and our shared humanity.
His moment of unconditional forgiveness has stayed with me since then as a template of what’s possible. I’ve stepped up to forgive – Jerome-style – various times, and I’ve always thought of him.
At the next break, Jerome and I embraced, and I felt infinitely more connected. We were both smiling and at ease. By acknowledging the elephant in the room I could now feel much closer to my brother. It was a delicious moment.
But let’s be clear – there was more work to be done.
In the rest of that workshop, there were other rounds of truth-telling and reconciliation – all more messy and sticky than the one I just shared. These are the norm, and we shouldn’t expect this race work to be a Disney fairy tale.
But I tell this story because of its exceptional nature, because of the transformative power of grace.
* * *
For the white folk reading this story, do you feel a yearning in your own heart to step into a space of truth-telling and racial reconciliation so you can open up and become a better ally to people of color?
Come join Gaylon Logan, Wanda Whitaker, and myself for Free Yourself First, a 3-week intensive coming up on August 8th specifically for white people. We need to be doing more anti-racist work with each other so we’re not doing further harm to people of color.
Enrollment is open now, and I would love to have you join us and experience the challenges and rewards of this journey of healing and liberation.
If you have any questions about the workshop or comments on this story, don’t hesitate to reach out!
With love,
Peter