“They don’t have the same skin as me, but like me, they’re made in the image of God.”
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The week after I arrived in Botswana, we began our ministry at a local preschool. I loved it there. I got to spend my time in the ‘baby room,’ where the threes and under hung out. One boy, Sean, spent the first day I was there crying and trying to escape the room. I asked his teacher if he was okay, and she told me that he was afraid of me because of my white skin. After a few more days, he began warming up to me. This boy went from staying in the room and crying on the sidelines, to coming up to me for high-fives, to eventually becoming best pals with me and having lots of snuggles and shared laughs. He chose to get to know me. He chose to overcome his fear of my appearance and our differences and he began approaching me. As we got to know one another better, three-year-old Sean decided that our differences weren’t worth a missed friendship.
This has been one of the most eye-opening experiences on the Race for me: people being afraid of me because of my white skin.
I’ve been passionate about race relations and the social structure surrounding skin color in the U.S. for a long time. I thought my status as a double-minority enabled me to a relate a bit more to the struggles faced by certain people groups back home. However, the experiences I’m having here are showing me that my passion and sympathy were not necessarily met with understanding. Being seen as different, less-than, strange, unique, or “ethnic,” is an entirely different plight than being seen as scary.
In 2006, research was conducted on men walking in shared spaces. Caucasian men said that when they encountered others in the public spaces, they felt confident, and for the most part, said that they were not aware of being feared as they moved through public spaces. They said they weren’t feared because they were “nice guys” with “good smiles,” or had “good personalities.” African-American and Latino men, however, couldn’t say the same. Everywhere they went, they were painfully conscious of how they were perceived, aware that they were indicting fear. Regardless of dress, facial expressions, or personality, these men in the study felt that they were feared by others.
It’s 12 years later now, and somehow I doubt that much has changed. Fear is still a huge contributing factor to perpetuating racial issues on all sides. There is progress being made, for which I’m so excited and thankful, but my experiences here on the Race have begun opening my eyes to the progress yet to be made. It’s a hard feeling, being feared, and I can’t imagine what it must be like to feel that way every day, but I’m excited to know that there are so many people willing to move past differences and choose love instead.
Today especially, I’m thankful for the call to love our neighbors. I’m thankful that we’re one in Christ. I’m thankful that perfect love casts out fear. And I’m thankful that regardless of the color of our skin, we are all made in the image of our Creator.
Love you guys,
Amy
My sweet pal as we started moving toward high-five status
Research link:
Day, K. (2006). Being feared: Masculinity and race in public space. Environment and Planning, 38, 569-586.
