Red Wagon: There’s No Place for A Moderate Racist

I stood with my three sons, as my husband followed the sales associate to his desk to complete the transaction. It had been a great experience in the mattress store. We were assisted by a cool Black guy, named Devin who just so happened to remember seeing my husband perform in Baltimore. Understanding that there are only 2-degrees of separation in our city, before we knew it we were all laughing like old friends.

I love that culturally, as Black people, we share a hidden language and inside jokes that immediately signal that “we’re safe here.”

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The boys were getting restless. I was preparing to take them outside, when Sara (a white female sales associate) began walking towards me. Assuming that I was in the mood to talk (because she had been watching our cordial interaction with Devin), she started the conversation with normal pleasantries. 

When engaging with strangers I have found that a great equalizer is to begin talking about your children. I mean, honestly, you have to be a complete asshole to not be able to say “one” good thing about children. 

My Newborn Twins | Amir & Nasir | 2013

Sara expressed to me her concern for children returning back to school this fall. I nodded along in agreement. I guess my acknowledgment demonstrated that I wanted to go deeper.

“Yea, I just don’t think that’s right. But, Governor Hogan is doing great, isn’t he?”

Personally, I believe that many of Governor Hogan’s decisions have been made at the “expense of” and “in spite of” the black and brown people in Baltimore, but I can admit, he “came through” during the pandemic. Sara seemed happy to hear my confession. She puffed out her chest. “Yup! Governor Hogan told the White House, “We Will Not Be Bullied”!

Governor Hogan interviewed by Sunny Hostin | The View| Clip Starts @ 2:22

I raised my eyebrows in strained enthusiasm and nodded. She continued, “...and, I believe in the Black Lives Matter!”

I was taken aback by the shift in conversation. At this point, I knew that Sara --the unassuming sales associate-- was really “Karen’s cousin.” See, unlike the meme of the white woman who calls the police on the Black family having a cookout, or the white woman who lies to police about being threatened by a Black bird watcher, Karen’s cousins believe that they are Black people’s progressive allies. 

Not taking much notice of my visible discomfort, Sara continued talking. At this point, my six-year-old son had walked over. He didn’t have context for the scene that was unfolding, but I could tell he was concerned.

“I’ve gone to the marches,” she said. “I mean, I haven’t been on the front lines, but I went to a meeting. I mean, I heard about the meeting during a call.” I laughed silently at the deflation of her so-called activism.

ABC News Video Clip

“That’s great” I replied sarcastically, signaling to my boys to follow me as I walked towards the door. Do you know that Sara followed us? “My brother is married to a black woman.” she continued. "And, their children are half and half.” 

Whaaaa?! I couldn’t help my expression, even my 6-year-old son looked confused. Did Sara just compare her nieces to an Arnold Palmer?!

I nodded politely. She then turned to me with a pained look of genuine concern. She explained to me the turmoil that she feels over the destruction of historical statues. “I know that we may not like what happened. But, destroying historical monuments won’t rewrite history. You know what I mean?!

As I took a deep breath, all three of my sons physically braced themselves for my answer. 

“I’m not concerned with what happens to stones and rocks, especially when compared to my son’s Black body.”

Sara paused. 

“I mean, you’re right...we should remove them,” she responded quickly, “just remove them like they did before...in the middle of the night.” The distance to the door seemed miles away. “But, I agree with Hogan that we should build a sanctuary for the monuments and then people can come and learn the history. You know? Like, Black people could come in February.”

WTF!!! “Excuse me?!” I hissed. She continued speaking because...you know…privilege.

“They’re talking about destroying the statue of Abraham Lincoln. And, he freed the slaves!” 

By now I was trying to determine what memory I wanted to leave to my sons at this moment. Because “every moment” is a “learning moment” for parents raising black and brown children in America.   

I shook my head in sheer exhaustion. “We need to stop.” I declared. “Abraham Lincoln freed the slaves under duress. If he could have saved the Union without the removal of one shackle on a Black man, woman or child, he would have!” I nodded goodbye as my sons followed me out the door.

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I wouldn’t call Sara a racist. Sara’s privileged and suffers from centuries of entitlement. It’s a sickness that affects many white men and women who can not accept that culturally they have benefited from someone else's pain. I can only imagine how uncomfortable that has to feel, but, as Ella Fitzgerald sings so beautifully...

“If you stick your nose some place it don't belong

Don't you come to me if things go wrong

That's your red wagon, that's your red wagon

So just keep dragging your red wagon along”  

Now what Sara (and many others like her) fail to recognize is that white supremacy does not only reflect the violent acts of horror projected by hooded Klan members. It is the belief that white property, white people, and white power are more valuable than Black lives.

“First, I must confess that over the last few years I have been gravely disappointed with the white moderate. I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro’s great stumbling block in the stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen’s Council-er or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate who is more devoted to “order” than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice.” — Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.