Month: June 2020

Opening Our Hearts and Minds

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

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As a mathematics teacher I daily encountered frustrating moments when students did not understand concepts that I was attempting to present to them. It was sometimes difficult to find a way to help them grasp what I was saying. I often had to use visuals, stories, songs, sayings, anything that would make headway in conveying a formula or a process. As I became more experienced in the methodologies of teaching I realized that at any given moment my students would have different perceptions, experiences and comprehensions of whatever I was attempting to explain. I had to work hard to find the exact methods that worked for each individual which was a daunting task. It was a constant challenge to reach each student as best I could.

My mother used to tease me by insisting that I always sounded like a teacher even when I was engaging in everyday conversations. I guess the habits of a educator die hard. We are always edifying, presenting information in the hopes of opening minds and encouraging people to look at the world from many different perspectives. It becomes second nature for most teachers to see lessons to be learned wherever we go. In an attempt to practice what we preach we tend to be curious souls who are willing to forge new frontiers when it comes to ideas. So it has been for me with the Black Lives Matter movement.

I’ll be the first to admit that I did not correctly understand the concept of Black Lives Matter when that mantra first appeared. I am fairly certain that I even wrote a blog insisting that if we are totally fair humans we should emphasize that All Lives Matter. In retrospect I realize that I had an instantaneous reaction to the phrase Black Lives Matter based on a my own life without taking the time to think about what it meant to someone who is African American. In spite of being an avid student of literature and history I missed the nuance of the wording. Instead I interpreted it from a purely literal standpoint thinking that it somehow tossed aside the value of every person in favor of a single group. Since that time I believe that I have come to a far clearer understanding of the more profound meaning of what Black Lives Matter means.

The heart of the phrase Black Lives Matter is a reaction to the treatment of African Americans from their earliest history as slaves in this country. Any person or society willing to buy, sell and treat a human more like a commodity or a lesser being is very clearly indicating that the life of that Black person does not really matter. Of course you may point out that we have not had slavery for around one hundred fifty years, but I would note that during that span of time we continued to treat free Black men and women as though they did not matter. We segregated ourselves from them and forced them into areas of town that were underserved by schools, stores, and even basics like clean water. We only minimally provided them with education and opportunity. Indeed we passed laws around fifty five years ago that attempted to right those wrong but the progress has been slow. As the years went by and Black citizens did their best to become integral and important members of a free society there continued to be far too many incidents that demonstrated that they did not matter. So when someone says that Black Lives Matter, it is a way of emphasizing that we can no longer allow the African American citizens of this country or any country to be dismissed as being of little value. We do that when we ignore that fact that simply existing with black skin can be a dangerous thing. We cannot pretend that racism does not exist even if we ourselves do not have such foul inclinations. The Black Lives of our neighbors, coworkers and friends do matter and when one of them is treated with injustice we must all call out the person or organization that does so. That is what Black Lives Matter truly means, asserting that we will no longer look away when we see discrimination because we regard Black Americans as the precious brothers and sisters from God that they are. 

Saying that All Lives Matter misses the central point because it is not all of us who are enduring daily reminders that some in our midst believe that Black lives have less value than ours. Our goal should be to vigilantly work to finally achieve equality and justice for African Americans. It is not a way of lessening our own importance or that of anyone else.  We lose nothing by working for a better world for others. In fact, a young lady whom I hope will one day be my granddaughter explained Black Lives Matter as simply a way of celebrating the wonder and importance of our Black citizens with no reservations. It is telling them once and for all that we do believe that they matter very much and that we are sorry for the ways that they have been treated in the past. 

Taking the comfortable route of denying the problem simply because we don’t see it is an insult. It says to those who try to explain what they are feeling and experiencing that we don’t value their word enough to believe that their emotions are genuine. We accuse them of whining as though we have the power to read their minds, walk in their shoes. Think of how horrific it would be to know in your heart of hearts that you are being abused and then learn that most people think you are exaggerating. Would you believe that your life mattered to anyone who refused to hear and understand what you were saying?

Nobody is is asserting that only Black Lives matter. They are simply asking those of us who have grown up white to open our hearts and minds to the idea that there are still people who see skin color as the only means of determining the worth of an individual. Why do so many among us not deny that our Black citizens have to regularly endure racism when even the Black man who rose to be President of the United States feels its sting?

Over the past days hundreds of thousands of people across the world have participated in marches and protests designed to focus on the value of Black lives. Out of those many thousands there has been a very small percentage of people intent on destruction and not all of them have been Black. We have learned that nefarious groups from the far left and the far right have incited violence to purposely create chaos for their own political agendas. We must be careful not to equate an entire movement with the dirty work of the few.

You can show your support by attempting to understand the deeper historical meaning of Black Lives Matter. You can try to understand that no Black person ever took a knee during the playing of the National Anthem to insult our military. It was only to point out that we have societal problems that we have yet to address. It was a very peaceful means of drawing attention to issues. We must stop focusing on the bad acts of the few and support the glorious dreams of the majority.

Think of those times when you were a school child behaving politely in every way and a teacher punished you and everyone else because a couple of kids got out of line. Think of how angry and defeated that made you feel. Think of how unfair it was. Maybe then you will be able to understand and embrace the Black Lives Matter cause for what it is.

Finally, please do not just look away. That is what our society has been doing for too long. It may be painful to be totally honest about the realities that Black Americans face but if we are ever going to make the needed changes more of us must finally see and hear them. We have to be open to ideas that may challenge the ways we have always thought. We must let Black Americans know how much they matter by a willingness to suspend our preconceived notions.

I Must Do More Than Pray

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

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I am a religious person but not nearly as spiritual as some that I know. I try to do better and I talk to God all the time but I know that I have much room to grow in my faith. I don’t pretend to be a theologian and I’m hardly a master of the Bible. My little niece, Lorelai, is better versed in the books and chapter and verses than I will ever be. I spent twelve years taking religion classes in Catholic schools and I picked up the essence the teachings of Jesus over time. Somehow I have always thought that His message was profound but simple. To me it has always been summarized in His commandment that we love our neighbors as we love ourselves. This should not be that difficult to do and yet all of us stray from that dictum over and over again.

Jesus also told us to judge not lest we be judged and yet it as always seemed to me that those of us who are Christians are often the very first to to shake our heads in judgement whenever we witness behaviors that we disapprove. It is so difficult to set aside the haughtiness of self righteousness, a sin of which I am particularly guilty even as I write these words. I suppose that Jesus understood quite well the frailties that we humans possess and so he attempted to teach us about the things that we were most likely to do wrong.

I have been asking Jesus to help us all these days. My heart is heavy with grief and anger over the plight of Black Americans in an era when we should be well beyond the injustices of the past. I’ve been overly judgmental of family members, friends, and strangers who can’t seem to understand what is happening in the Black Lives Matter movement. I am livid about our president and his tone deaf response to what is happening. I do not understand why he thinks the way he does, nor why he cannot see how divisive his comments are. I tell myself that it is not up to me to judge him or anyone else. That should be God’s work and only God will ever really know what to make of his heart. Still I think that as a Catholic Christian I have a right to speak out when I disagree with him.

A church building is sacred to me. It has always been a place of refuge and peace. I do not take lightly the power of community and love that it represents and so it is with the Bible, a book that I know I should read more often. We swear to tell the truth on the Bible. We seek direction for our lives in the Bible. We hear about the life of Jesus in the Bible and hopefully we model on lives on His example as described in the Bible. For that reason I do not think that either a church building or the Bible should be treated without great reverence and respect.

I did not agree with President Trump’s bravado in speaking with the nation’s governors earlier this week. I felt that his use of words and invoking of military terminology as a means of controlling the violence and looting associated with the protests was like throwing gasoline on a fire. There are ways of preventing and controlling illegal actions without resoring to extreme measures. I would rather have heard him taking the time to show more compassion for those who are angry. I would like to see him attempting to listen and understand rather than talk and command. There is no weakness in averting chaos with understanding and love. It is possible to be a guide toward good, a model leader of character and concern and that is what I hoped he would be. We need to hear him providing concrete ideas for eliminating discrimination. 

I have prayed because I do not have all the answers. I have prayed because maybe I am wrong but my heart tells me that berating governors and bragging about dire consequences for those who do not tow the line is abusive. People might fall in line for someone who threatens them with punishment but such harshness will only intensify their feelings. We do not need a nation that silently bears grievances only because it fears to suffer the ire of the very person who should be helping to make us feel safe and honored as people. 

I did not like that a peaceful crowd in front of the White House was cleared with tear gas just so the President could strut across the street to a church that he has never once attended and hold up a Bible for a photo opportunity after he had just humiliated our governors and threatened the protestors with grave repercussions. If it was not a travesty it was at least a moment of embarrassingly bad taste. It certainly dashed any hopes that I might have had for the show of healing and human kindness that I believe our nation desperately needs.

I keep praying to Jesus. I feel his love and comfort and I thank Him for the blessings that  have filled my life. Still I implore Him to help us. I ask Him to show me what I must do for surely my thoughts and prayers are not enough. I will continue to blog. I will cast votes in November. I will work for what I feel to be right. I will ask Jesus to bring peace and justice to our country.   

You Never Know What You May Find

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

bumpy road

June 1, 2020

To my incredible children, grandchildren, students, nieces, nephews and young people who are like family,

I wrote a letter to you when we first began our stay at home orders here in the United States. At that time most of the Covid-19 cases were occurring in Washington State, California and New Jersey. Here in my hometown of Houston, Texas there were no more than a couple dozen folks who had tested positive for the disease so it was a bit difficult to believe that our area would get hit very hard with the virus. While we were locked away in our homes we watched as the illness penetrated almost every corner of the world in one way or another. The images of empty streets in London, Paris, Rome, and New York City were a haunting backdrop to the rising numbers of sick and dying. Now as I convey my thoughts to you the United States there have been 100,000 deaths even as we begin the process of reopening our cities and towns. At the same time the tragic murder of a Black man, George Floyd, by a police officer in Minnesota has led to an outpouring of grief and rage not just in our own country but across the world. 

So much has changed in such a short amount of time. The world as we expected it to be feels very different. People who able to do so are still working at home and students are finishing the school year from their bedrooms. The proms and graduations and track meets and school competitions were mostly eliminated from the end of the year calendar. Some of you took your Advanced Placement tests online without the usual review sessions from your teachers. Being part of this historical event has been tough and the coming times feel almost as uncertain as the last several weeks have been. Who knows what all of us will face as we begin to rebuild the world again? Now with the added difficulties of the protesting and the unfortunate destruction that has sometimes come with it, we are all asking ourselves what we might have done to prevent the suffering.

I have watched all of you working hard to comply with the directives designed to flatten the curve of contagion and protect the vulnerable in our midst. I have heard your impassioned pleas for justice and equality and the recognition of Black Lives. I’ve witnessed you continuing your studies and preparing for a future whose form is evolving even as I type these words. We simply don’t know what the next weeks and months will be like for anyone and yet all of you are maintaining your optimism and your resolve. Regardless of what the world is going to be like as we move forward I sense that each of you will be ready.

I’ve had conversations with some of you regarding your concerns about the environment, the cost of attending college, the inequities of this world. I know that you are thinking well beyond your own needs and you have proved your mettle in this difficult time. With little or no guidance you have worked as hard as you would have if there had been directives and deadlines. Nothing has stopped you and that is the mark of greatness. I have also been exceedingly proud of your compassion and willingness to speak out for those whose lives are being turned upside down.

I recently heard a woman speaking about the effect of Covid 19 on the psychological health of the nation’s youth.  With a smile on her face she insisted that those of you who are young possess an inordinate amount of grit, the quality of maintaining determination even when life is challenging. She assured her audience that true grit will propel people like you forward regardless of what kind of changes are wrought by this pandemic. She pointed out that some of the greatest discoveries and positive developments were born in tough times. Isaac Newton invented Calculus when he was sent home from the university during an outbreak of plague in the 1600s. That same terrible time resulted in sanitation improvements and new medicines. She believes that it will be the young men and women of the world who will define the problems that the pandemic has exposed and then invent new ways of enhancing the world. You are the explorers, entrepreneurs, creators and leaders of the future.

I know that you have faced so many disappointments and the possibility of even more as the virus and the unrest dictate how we will return to a new kind of normal. I really hope that the older generation will listen to and consider your ideas. You are dreamers and your thoughts have the potential to fuel a worldwide renaissance. You have seen the possibilities and now it is time to begin to bring them to fruition.

You still have dues to pay and hoops through which you must jump but you are quickly earning your wings and respect for your hard work and patience. The sacrifices you are making now and  the challenges you will most certainly face in the coming times will make you strong as long as you refuse to allow them to defeat you. You are creative and flexible. Use those natural tendencies to keep your optimism flourishing. Think beyond the confines of the way things have always been. Continue to be curious and unafraid to notice problems and address them.

I smile when I think of you and my chest puffs up with pride. Learn from this experience but do not allow it to pull you down. Be ready to teach some tricks to old dogs like me. Be open to unexpected opportunities and be willing to take a side trip down a bumpy road. You never know what you may find.  

Yours,

Mama, Gammy, Aunt Sharron, Mama B. 

Seeing, Hearing, Understanding

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

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I have been close to most of my students but as always happens there have been some with whom my connection was far stronger than with others. One young man in particular appeared to be quite lost and headed for trouble. Seeing his downward trajectory broke my heart because he was incredibly bright and I saw something quite special in him. Over time we spoke often and I encouraged him to create positive goals and to work hard to achieve them.

Life was not easy for the young man. He lived in a rough neighborhood where temptations were a constant. His family struggled just to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table. Gangs often approached him in hopes of recruiting him because he was big and muscular and smart. He had already had some brushes with the law before I met him. In many ways he had given up on himself until I interceded. After our talks he began to view himself in more positive ways and as his grades improved he discussed dreams of becoming an engineer. I felt confident that I had played a small role in saving him from the downward pull of the environment in which he had been living but I had underestimated the power of forces that gnawed at him every single day.

Shortly after the Christmas holidays one year a theft occurred at the school. One of the students had lost some electronic gear and he and his parents were quite insistent that it had happened at in one of his classes. The administration did a search and made inquiries all to no avail. I made a plea to all of my students that they do the right thing and help to return the items to the rightful owner. That lead to a tip that broke my heart. The student with whom I had invested so much time and emotion had been seen with the stolen gear.

I did not want to believe that my protege had fallen from grace but I had to interview him to hear his side of the story. At first he concocted several lies but eventually broke down and admitted that he had taken the item and even a few other things that nobody had reported. He was planning to sell them in his neighborhood’s black market. The change he made from such deals provided him and his family with a little bit better life than they might otherwise have had.

To this day my stomach clinches and I want to sob when I think of what happened. I realized in that moment that my student lived in a world that I would never quite understand. I could not justify what he had done and of course I had to report him to the administrators but I was sickened that the progress he had made in redirecting his life had been so suddenly altered. As he sobbed in front of me and proclaimed, “I know you hate me now” I was stunned. Without hesitation I assured him, “I will never hate you. I love you, but I hate what you have done.”

I suppose this is the state of my conflicted emotions during this difficult moment in our nation’s history. I will always love my country and unlike many I will never have thoughts of leaving it because in spite of its flaws it is a great but still imperfect nation. I am willing to see those flaws and know that they are wrong. I dislike them intensely, but not the idea and ideals of America. Being a firm believer in reconciliation I am always willing to forgive but I also know that we must first squarely face problems, admit they are present, and then do our utmost to begin the process of repairing them. To do anything less for our country at this moment in time would be akin to my covering up my beloved student’s infraction, pretending it was not there. It would be the least patriotic thing that I might do.

I was ultimately able to defend my student as someone whom I believed to be innately good and worthy of help, but I made it clear that his actions were wrong. He ultimately returned the stolen items, made restitution and underwent a program of extensive counseling and support. I have not heard from him in many years so I don’t know how things ultimately turned out but I’d like to believe that we somehow saved him from a life that seemed so inevitable back then.  So it is with the United States of America. I believe that we are the good guys but many of us have been lying to ourselves that all is well. We have overlooked problems because they have not affected us personally.

It is quite human to want to avoid conflict particularly when it does not appear to be worth the effort. Some people even endure abusive situations rather than shake up the status quo. The great unknown of change can be frightening and so we fall back on comforting routines. Unfortunately if there are problems they inevitably grow until they can no longer be ignored.

I have been hearing concerns from my Black friends, colleagues and students for decades. At first they were rather quiet and somewhat nervous whispers and like so many I did not take them very seriously because in truth they did not affect my personal life. As time went by they became more and more insistent and so I tried to quell the fears of those who were confiding in me. Before long I began to notice the kind of things that they were telling me. I saw that they were indeed being treated differently than I was only because my skin was white and theirs was black. It made me feel uncomfortable to face that truth but I still felt that there was little more that I might do than to assure them of my love for them. Because nothing was ever really done to address the very real problems that they had described the impact of them became more and more noticeable over time until we finally reached this moment when our country seems to be on fire with rage.

I now see them. I now hear them. I now understand that something must be done but I am filled with fear because somehow the message is being lost in the furor of the moment. I know without a doubt that the looting and the graffiti and the destruction is wrong but those are actions, not the essence of what the vast majority of African Americans are attempting to tell us. I believe with every fiber of my being that in spite of the horrific scenes playing out we must remain calm. We must let our Black brothers and sisters know that we love them. We must begin a dialogue that has been too long in coming. We must join them in the work to bring the change that we need to see in our country.

We can show the true strength of this nation only by using what is best about it. The first amendment is perhaps the most important tool that we have. It assures us that freedom of speech, freedom of religion, freedom of assembly, freedom of the press, and the right to petition will be protected. Our goal at this moment should be to use these freedoms to loudly and strongly defend and protect our Black citizens in their cry to be heard.

I long for a leader regardless of party affiliation or economic status to bring calm and comfort to the situation. I long for a leader with a real interest in discussing what needs to be done. We must find such people for surely they are in our midst. We must use the most wonderful tool that we have to bring them to the fore. We must bring them to our aid with our votes. I pray that with that power we will be able to find individuals who are willing to set aside their own agendas to do the work necessary to bring our country to the place where it always should have been. Our votes should be our voices.

 

Fulfilling the Promise of Democracy

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

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I suspect that we are all on edge these days. With Covid-19 it’s been a tough several weeks and we have so little sense that things will return to normal any time soon. I’ve experienced moments of feeling strong and unstoppable, and times when I felt defeated by all of the illness and death. Mostly I have found myself all too often feeling disappointed in some of the negative attitudes I have witnessed. I’ve tried to concentrate on the mostly good and wonderful things that I have observed but sometimes late at night I have been ground down by a sense of disappointment that anyone would be ugly during such a time as this. I have often shed tears not because of any inconvenience to me but because of the extent to which this virus has caused suffering in the world.

It was within this context that I watched a video of the killing of George Floyd last week. I saw the heartless police officer with his knee on Mr. Floyd’s neck and I could only think the cop appeared to almost take delight in humiliating and harming Mr. Floyd. I felt a flurry of intensely negative emotions that raced from sorrow to anger. When protestors hit the streets in a state of rage I would normally have wanted to instantly chastise them for being so destructive. I am a peaceful person who has always followed the rules. I like order in my life but somehow I found myself understanding how they had reached the end of their patience with a system that has over and over again treated them and their ancestors without human respect. It was as though I too had run out of excuses for racist behavior.

In the days following I slept very little and when I did I kept having vivid dreams of my mother. In them I was desperately attempting to get close to her so that I might be comforted. She would look at me, smile invitingly but somehow there was a barrier between the two of us as though she was reminding me that she had already taught me what I needed to know. I thought of her and my children, grandchildren and former students day and night. I prayed for peace and also some kind of revelation that might help us all. I found it in remembering advice that my mother had given me at the very beginnings of my long career in education.

When I complained to my mama that my students were behind in their learning, often unwilling to do simple homework assignments and sometimes too rowdy for me to convey my lessons her reply was that I needed to figure out what I was doing wrong, not keep focusing on what I thought they were doing wrong. As I pushed back on her insistence that I needed to change she explained that it sounded to her as though my pupils were dealing with difficulties far more pressing to them than completing math practice each evening. She urged me to find out who they were, what bothered them, what excited them. She said that when I demonstrated compassion and a genuine desire to learn about them we would together begin a dialogue that would lead to everyone becoming better. I reluctantly followed her advice because I was desperate to make a difference in their lives. I soon realized that the art of teaching had to be human first.

As I have watched the looting and destruction in our country in the past many days I have been saddened and disturbed because I feel that it may only lead to more misunderstanding of the message I believe most of the protestors are earnestly attempting to convey. I  have worried that the just causes of our forty two million African American citizens are being highjacked by an element that does not truly represent them. I saw many of my white friends becoming increasingly disturbed and I heard the president invoking a position of force to quell the disturbances. I feared that the bad behaviors of the few in this historic moment would become yet another excuse for shutting down the voices of the peaceful  many just.

I thought of the beginnings of my country, a land that I do love, but a nation with ideals that have always been imperfect in their distribution. I know that members of my paternal grandmother’s family where here in the colonies very early on, and some of them chose to fight when the revolution began. Like so many I have tended to romanticize that epic chapter in history but over time I have learned that it was not quite as glorious in every instance as I would like to imagine. Wars are rarely pretty. People die in them. Property is destroyed in them. So too was our American Revolution a horrible time when the colonists must have been terribly divided and hoping to make the violence stop so that they might go back the their normal. While it was a glorious cause it exacted a terrible price for those who endured it.

As long as I live I will never ever understand how anyone could have believed that it was okay to capture, enslave and sell human beings. I’d like to mark it off as just a time when people didn’t know better but I have read too many accounts of brave souls advocating for the abolition of slavery from its very beginnings. Not only did the practice grow like a cancer in the colonies but it was eventually enshrined in the Constitution of the new country. There were a sufficient number of arguments over whether or not slavery should have been allowed for me to realize that we built our first hundred years of existence on a dastardly compromise. We allowed human beings to be bought and sold like livestock and did not even count them as full persons in the prescriptive phrases of the Constitution. Today’s problems were born in that horrific mistake. 

I have spent enough time researching slavery to know about the brutal conditions in which the people lived. The humiliations to which they were subjected were unconscionable and even though I have not yet found any evidence that my ancestors owned slaves I find myself wondering if my relations simply ignored the practice so as not to cause trouble. Somehow it would comfort me to think that maybe one among them was brave enough to speak out against the horror of the practice. 

When Abraham Lincoln finally freed the slaves it took another hundred years to pass legislation that allowed our black brothers and sisters to live among us rather than in segregated neighborhoods. It was not until I was in my teens that they were even allowed to eat in our restaurants, stay in our hotels, used our public facilities, enjoy the same opportunities of education and work that were the taken for granted privileges of my family. Even then there were still Americans who viewed African Americans as inferior beings. Blacks are all too often stereotyped with labels that they do not deserve and try as they may to be part of the American dream even the most successful among them, including the man who became President of the United States, continued to suffer the indignities of racism.

I suppose that there is a breaking point that occurs when an entire group is being abused. There is a moment when one has to say, “Enough!  No More!” The death of George Floyd at the hands of a police officer brought the almost two hundred fifty years of mistreatment boiling to the surface for Blacks in America who are tired of worrying about their safety and the safety of their children. They can no longer simply sit back and accept the tragedies that continue to stalk them no matter how hard they try. Like the Sons of Liberty of old they have cried out against the tyranny that they and their forebears have endured. This time they will be heard just as the patriots of old made their dissatisfaction of the status quo known to the king.

There are those who do not understand the frustration that has led to an eruption of destruction in Minnesota and other parts of the country and yet I suspect that it is something that our Founding Fathers would recognize. Their forays against the British merchants, governors and soldiers were often violent. First person accounts describe how angry colonists would vandalize and loot businesses and then sell the goods that they stole to support their uprisings. When the revolution officially began with gunshots in Concord only about forty percent of the people in what would eventually become the United States supported the philosophies and efforts of the patriots. Many loyalists were harassed and even run out of their homes by the rowdy revolutionaries.

Some of my husband’s kin chose to leave the country for the duration of the battle for independence rather than endure the chaos. Even back then people were quite divided about how to deal with the growing numbers of illegal acts targeting the king and his army. It was a violent and often bloody time that might make most of us uncomfortable if we were to see exactly how things were. Nonetheless the white colonists ultimately gained from the sacrifices that the patriots made but the Blacks did not. They were still in bondage even after our country won its freedom from the British and to this very day they suffer the indignities of discrimination.

We like to think of our nation as one where there is opportunity and freedom and justice for everyone. We have made progress in the almost two hundred fifty years since our country was formed but it must surely be apparent to all good men and women that we are not yet there. It is a struggle that continues to this very day. As we attempt to rid ourselves of the virus of Covid-19 we must be just as diligent in eradicating the virus of prejudice that should have been insisted upon from our country’s beginnings.  The United States of America will not heal and will not be as great as it should be until we break the chains of racism that have tainted all that we were supposed to believe about equality. Until we truly demonstrate our belief that all men and women are created equal with the same rights for all people all of the time we will not have fulfilled the promise of democracy. We will not accomplish this with armies and shows of force but with indications that we are ready to finally listen.