The fight for racial justice and harmony can be won one small breakthrough at a time
With shame, I remember my first minority affairs council meeting as a U.S. congressman.
I had convened the meeting following the model of Gov. Carroll Campbell, a predecessor of mine as South Carolina’s 4th Congressional District representative.
I didn’t get off to a good start.
All of 34 years old — and white shirt, red tie and Republican-to-the-core — I was asked how many black staff members I had.
“None,” I replied with far too little embarrassment.
“Why not?” I was asked.
“Well,” I answered, “very few black folks worked in my campaign.”
I weep now at my words.
It’s about fairness
Throughout my 12 years in office I would hold the minority affairs meetings in the three counties that made up my district — and during one particularly successful meeting in Spartanburg, a black insurance agent named Don Martin posed this question to me: “What are the most important issues for white South Carolinians?”
I rattled them off: health care, education, the economy, taxes.
But then Don followed up with another question:
“And what are the top issues for black South Carolinians?”
Stuck for an answer, I sat silent for a moment and then responded, “I don’t know, Don, but I think fairness is at the top of the list.”
“You’re starting to get it, Inglis,” Don replied.
He went on to explain that when you’re white, you can assume fairness — but that when you’re black, you can’t.
The assumption of fairness walks as privilege onto the streets of our cities and towns. It carries over to traffic stops and crime scenes where folks like me are presumed innocent while a running black man— who may be simply rushing to get help — is presumed to be the perpetrator.
It takes work to overcome that bias, and habits bind both sides of racial divides.
I remember a Martin Luther King, Jr. commemorative walk that took place in Spartanburg during the mid-1990s. Just before the start of the 1.5-mile walk, I approached a middle-aged black woman. She folded her arms across her chest and emphatically told me, “I don’t like you!”
“Great,” I replied. “We’ve got a mile-and-a-half to change your mind.”
That walk ended with hugs.
And that woman, Anne Bobo, and her husband Charles eventually went on to visit me in my house, attend numerous events with me and host a coffee in their home to support my U.S. Senate campaign.
That was a small breakthrough.
But every cross-racial hiring is a breakthrough.
Every witness who sees accurately and testifies truthfully is a breakthrough.
Every time a white officer has a fair encounter with a person of color, it’s a breakthrough.
Every time a white person humbly recognizes their privilege and works to include others in the protection and perks of that privilege, it’s a breakthrough.
As we work to solve climate change at republicEn.org, we’re aware of the environmental injustices that subject low-income people to the worst effects of climate change; disproportionately, they will be people of color. And as a white guy I need to humbly acknowledge the unearned privilege that exempts me from much of that suffering.
With that injustice before us, with a history of racial injustice behind us and with the immediate injustice of brutality among us, we should all humbly acknowledge that we’re only here for a brief time — and that we are stewards of a glorious creation.
We owe it to those who follow us to learn from our mistakes and to prepare for them a more perfect union — one that is able to nurture and serve a safer world.
Bob Inglis represented South Carolina’s 4th Congressional District in the U.S. House from 1993 to 1999 and 2005 to 2011. He now leads republicEn.org, a community of conservatives advancing free enterprise solutions to climate change.
This story was originally published June 10, 2020 at 10:38 AM.