Pondering the Pandemic II: Superheroes

[ Photo Credit: JEFF KOWALSKY/AFP via Getty Images ]

I think it is fair to say that many of these Lansing "protesters" have convinced themselves that they are the heroes of their own story. You can see it throughout their public statements—they are constitutional champions, protectors of patriotism, legends of liberty. They are, in their own stories, the difference between keeping and losing the republic.

Of course, they're wrong.

These "protesters" are throwing a very public temper tantrum. With their rifles and respiratory particles, they are recklessly endangering themselves, their comrades, and the brave public servants facing them nose-to-nose. And of course, they are flaunting their ever-apparent white privilege. 

To be frank, this selfish and senseless superhero complex is the predictable result of how many of us white folks grow up. And if we (white people) want to confront this protest, we have to confront that reality. 

Think about it. 

We encounter it in our schooling...where the achievements of white men are sanitized, their atrocities are minimized, and the genuine accomplishments of their historical peers of color are ignored, forgotten, and even eradicated. Colonization becomes "discovery" and cruel wars become "crusades". 

We observe it in film and television...where lead after lead after lead is cast white. Superheroes and soldiers, detectives and demons, champions and cartoon characters, entertainers and Emmy-award winners. Even historically-based characters of color are so frequently miscast white. 

We are surrounded by it in our communities...where our classmates and coaches, pals and police officers, babysitters and baristas all look like us. And whenever that homogeneity and familiarity begins to change, we fight—and oh, do we fight!—or we flee. 

We consume it in our books and reading...where the authors crafting our stories, teaching our lessons, editing our newspapers, compiling our research, and creating our worlds are predominately—and, in some cases, exclusively—white. 

We embrace it in our leaders...CEOs and senators, managing partners and board members, team owners and trustees, governors and mayors. Their seats have been largely occupied and passed down from one white person to another. 

And we even see it in our religion...the American evangelical Christian faith, once tied to a blonde-haired, European-looking Jesus, now takes its cues from and panders to the former host of the Apprentice. We have whitewashed our tradition's history of violence against African-American brothers and sisters, and our haphazard calls for "racial reconciliation" are usually as hollow as our principles. We even occasionally teach that the suffering of others is facilitated by God to teach us valuable lessons. 

All of these pervasive dynamics have enormous persuasive power; they teach white people dysfunctional values that lead to moments like tonight's "protests". And yet, despite how ubiquitous and dangerous these dynamics are, they remain enormously difficult for white people to point out to one another—like amateur handymen examining the foundation of a house, cracking ever so imperceptibly beneath the surface. 

To carry that metaphor to a breaking point—ha!—we should be trusting the expertise of inspectors, scrutinizing those weaknesses, rolling up our sleeves, and doing the dirty work together to tear down and rebuild the house (which I am convinced would mostly mean a great deal of silence, lament, and listening). But it is hard to even begin to do that when we are convinced that we are the superheroes of our stories. 

So, what do we end up with instead? Myopia. Entitlement. Conspiracy. Arrogance. Racism. 

And, as we can all see, Trumped-up temper tantrums.