"Changing The Narrative On Justice, Oppression & Privilege"

As fashionable and politically correct as it sounds in 2022, our country is not in need of another conversation. At least not the kind we've grown accustomed to starting but not quite finishing. If I had a Bitcoin transaction for every time I heard, "I'm glad that we're having this conversation" or "It's time we have these difficult conversations about race," I would be in the conversation as a Bitcoin whale or crypto currency king.

Think about it.

In all seriousness, this is painfully true.

We're just now starting conversations in a country whose fortunes were built on the backs of oppression, amortized over 400 years of slavery AND free labor, on colonized land producing industries and generational wealth that families are still living off of to this very day and the very people who tilled the land were systemically cut off from systematic access to it as a means for self-sufficiency, from the Homestead Act to modern day redlining. As a result, the American Dream still evades their generations to this very day.

?Think about it.

In all seriousness, this is woefully true.

We're just starting to have conversations about sharing power and privilege in one of the wealthiest nations in the world upon which profits and privilege are still maintained on the margins of the marginalized, at the expense of the disenfranchised and on top of the losses of the brutalized and criminalized.

Think about it.

In all seriousness, this is especially true.

We're not even having conversations about sending hundreds of billions of dollars in aid to war-torn Ukraine. And rightfully so. However, we roll past the homeless in our war-torn country with our windows and empathy rolled up tight and the conversation in the car about giving them a buck or two is a justifiable no.

What is there to talk about?

Seriously.

What new revelation knowledge are we seeking as the world and centuries turn and these truths have become so painfully self-evident that all men (and especially women) are created but not treated equal? Yet the oppressor and the oppressed, the privileged and under-privileged both find themselves in such perpetual states of denial. So much so, it's hard to tell exactly who's who and which is which anymore.

Which, I believe is part of God's plan for reconciliation.

In fact, as I studied this week, the Holy Spirit helped me glean the fact that changing the narrative on justice and oppression begins with deconstructing the language around who is the subject and who is the object. Which begs the core question framed for us by Dr. Stephen Madigan around narrative therapy, as to who has been given the authority to define them as such? Further, from this pastoral counselor's perspective, we must also ask ourselves what role the authority of scripture plays in this narrative as we'll conclude this matter on.

Truth be told, as we've learned, these are largely rhetorical questions that inform solutions-focused therapeutic conversations so there's plenty to talk about. And that's the point of narrative therapy. To that end, though, I would argue what we really need to do as a country in order to liberate ourselves and heal from past wounds is to take our conversations a step further by deconstructing, re-storying and remembering our shared experiences. Specifically, changing the way we care about the trauma of oppression and how we treat the abuse associated with privilege. More specifically, what it means to be the object of oppression and what it means to be the subject of privilege.

By doing so, ultimately observing what Michael Jackson was getting at in looking at the man in the mirror because it doesn't matter if you're Black or White.

Even when tables turn.

At least it shouldn't.

Therein lies the snub.

?Which is to say, as Brita L. Gill-Austern suggests in her article Engaging Diversity and Difference, "the problem of difference, of seeing "the other" as object rather than subject, permeates our individual and communal lives. In other words, as Bowen's family systems theory suggests, we dance around this difficult subject and do our best two-step, trying not to trip over our feet, or put one in our mouth (while pointing fingers). When in fact our differences should exchange and flow more like the underlying tension in Salsa. With this lecture, we're addressing what this juxtaposition of roles between object and subject means as it lies at the heart of?changing the narrative on justice and oppression.

So what exactly does that mean?

It means that, like good salsa partners, it’s time we change and exchange our roles together. It may be awkward at first but it's time we find a natural rhythm to change and exchange the narrative and tension between who is the subject and who is the object. We must change the narrative from what we can do to treat and mitigate our concern for those who are and have been oppressed to, perhaps more importantly, where we must begin to assess the psychological damage inflicted upon those who have been privileged thereof.

Both at the hand of the oppressor.

It means we must change the primary narrative from what we can do to care for those different from us, or the poor and marginalized, to what can we do to care for the misfortunes of the rich and worldly incentivized. Biblically speaking.

"He who oppresses the poor taunts his Maker,

But he who is gracious to the needy honors him."

Proverbs 14:31

We must reframe the question around how those of us who live a life of relative refuge in our privilege can develop an ethic of empathy and pastoral care that offers both love and power as if we privileged are not lacking in this same regard? Biblically speaking.

"Wealth adds many friends,

But a poor man is separated from his friend."

Proverbs 14:20

It means, in a real sense, we have two victims who are now in need of therapeutic intervention and cognitive therapy to recover from the Big Lie both have been told and led to believe. It means, the truth of the matter is, when God said the last will be first, he meant it. It means, in clinical terms, we have two identified clients. In keeping with Bowen's family systems theory, as members of the royal family, God is saying there is neither Jew nor Greek, nor Male, nor Female, nor Slave nor Free. Bottom line, beloved, our stories are connected and we can no longer dance around our dysfunction and false narratives.

Lastly, it means we must edit the storyline. Changing the narrative means it is not as simple as the oppressed one being objectively Black and the privileged one being subjectively White. On the contrary, this limited language and symbolism only exacerbates our denial, further damages our collective psyche and delays our healing across the spectrum.

This adaptive change gets at the root of narrative therapy. Specifically, this adaptive change of strictly seeing oppression through the lens of the object of conversation rather than viewing privilege as part of the combined subject matter is what causes us to shrink from actually doing something about injustice. Worse still, it causes us to dismiss the existence of oppression altogether. Even when it's in plain view. This cognitive dissonance develops through an insidious type of implicit bias or neuropsychological blind spot, driven mostly by fear. Be it fear of loss of privilege, fear of the truth that hides behind the Big Lie or fear of a black planet as Chuck D. and Public Enemy posited years ago.

In either event, here is the real danger for our planet. Catch this. The result of such cognitive dissonance ultimately forces us to make sense of oppression subconsciously as some sort of an inanimate object that operates with a reckless autonomy independent of human behavior. And, in effect, distancing ourselves from what that means for us as beneficiaries (for better or for worse) of our forefather's actual lived experiences, choices and actions.

For example, many of our white brothers and sisters may legitimately say and believe "slavery and oppression was so long ago, and I had nothing to do with it," Surely we've all heard this. And this is absolutely true. However, the harder, more essential truth of the matter is that it (that being slavery & oppression) has a lot to do with their current socioeconomic position of silent privilege. And further, there is no denying it has played an instrumental role in their success - more so than individual talent or merit - to whatever extent they've played it to their advantage or someone else's modern day disadvantage.

On a fundamental level, this happens in Corporate America every day. Have you ever hired someone who was a good fit, just because they fit your skin color or social location when they were mediocre at best? When, in reality, there were better qualified candidates of a different skin color (or gender) that were never considered?

Which brings us to white guilt, which is a notion we should placate altogether. Guilt is not a motivator. In fact, it's just the opposite. On one hand, it keeps us from making systemic changes because we may feel like we have recognized our guilt (yet may be unwilling to trade places). On the other extreme, "useless guilt" turns into patronizing or fosters attitudes of rebellion. In either event, both ultimately become barriers to sharing power. Pride is the most formidable foe of racial progress.

Point being, just as there are forms of covert and overt oppression, privilege operates in both covert and overt manner (residing beneath the surface and lodged somewhere in between prejudice, subconscious bias and cognitive dissonance). Therefore, in terms of re-storying both must be deconstructed systematically. Indeed, there are sins of commission and sins of commission. Let's turn to the word for a witness.

James 4:16-17 puts it like this:

"As it is, you boast in your arrogant schemes. All such boasting is evil. If anyone, then, knows the good they ought to do and doesn't do it, it is sin for them."

Who is them? On the subject of justice and oppression, I would argue that the aforementioned writer Gill-Austern and Brother James would both say it goes both ways. And it doesn't matter if you're Black or White. Both, as it relates to gaining privilege from the arrogant schemes of the oppressor (as subject) or inheriting the lack of privilege that comes with being oppressed (as object). This is where finger pointing gives way to the other digits pointing back at us.

In other words, depending on our own personal circumstances we may find ourselves vacillating between two lived realities (of subject and object), thereby bypassing doing what is right or good, and opting to settle for exclusion at someone else's expense. In a nutshell, whether Black or White, we'd rather be counted among the haves than included with the have nots. As such, we largely stay silent on issues of poverty and injustice.

As Gill-Austern further suggests, drawing upon the work of the theologian and public intellectual Miroslav Volf: as human beings, we're unable to maintain a way to live with the aforementioned creative tension (using our salsa analogy) between difference and unity so we consistently turn to various practices of exclusion to deal with difference. These practices of exclusion further the disconnection between us that dehumanizes (or desensitizes) us to the plight of the oppressed and further contributes to the oppression and suffering following in its wake. This especially holds true for the injustice of poverty.

Let's take the unjust and arrogant scheme of re-gentrification in the inner-city. Without question, displacing the poor from under-resourced communities that were redlined only to invest back in them and create incentives and empowerment zones that allow the rich to get richer is sinful according to scripture. This covert sin of commission of injustice against the poor is just as overt as the sin of omission where we say nothing about it. In effect, we abandon the discussion and become indifferent to tent camps around the corner from multi-million-dollar mixed-use developments in our re-gentrified cities on our way to the juice bar.

My personal favorite is the cucumber-melon mix but that's another story.

When it comes to storytelling, our cognitive dissonance and indifference on the subject of poverty, injustice and oppression are the gravest of sins, which are most grievous to the Holy Spirit. Why? Because the sins of commission and omission both contradict the operation of the primary office of the Holy Spirit which comes, first and foremost, to lead us into truth.

Indeed, we can't handle the truth. As mentioned, we resist change because we fear the loss of our privilege and upheaval of the social order that maintains the Big Lie so the enemy keeps us trapped in the vicious cycle of haves versus have nots. And we're somehow cool with it as long as we have more than the nots. Whether Black or White, this becomes our equally fatalistic, internalized narrative. Thus, robbing ourselves of the fruits of the spirit.

As Edward Wimberly suggests in African-American Pastoral Counseling: The Politics of Oppression and Empowerment, as pastoral counselors, we must effectively use our personal agency to break through aggressive secularism to engage the public square in re-storying, reconstructing, and remembering in such a way that together, we can make shared, spiritual sense out of the trauma and dysfunction that injustice and oppression has wielded on this country and all of its inhabitants. No one is exempt.

Indeed, our entire nation is in desperate need of intervention. And not just any method or technique will do. As mentioned at the outset, we need Narrative Therapy. As noted, people of privilege are also psychologically and spiritually damaged in ways that perpetuate oppression. It hurts to know that people you were taught to believe (and treat) as inferior are really not and the people you thought to be genetically superior are really not either. And, in fact, it might actually be the other way around.

After all, what do you do when the story of who you thought you were and who you thought they were doesn't add up according to scripture? What do you do when your awakening comes to the realization that the religion of Christianity has aided and abetted in the Big Lie? What do you do when it’s in your best interest to go on with the Big Lie? What do you do when you simply can't live a lie anymore?

As a nation, you turn to narrative therapy, pastoral care and counseling.

Here, we must also underscore one of the more cunning aspects of the psychological damage from a legacy of injustice, oppression and privilege. Which is the fact that among the privileged are those who were once oppressed themselves (e.g. "well to do Black and Brown folks"). No doubt, this is one of the insidious consequences of oppression that has created a slave mentality and self-hate that becomes self-perpetuating. It's the wicked byproduct of internalized oppression. Some have called it the hate that hate made. I prefer to call it latent cognitive dissonance.

So much so that it is historically true that God-fearing, sincere white folks have more heart for the poor and oppressed than black people who overcame poverty or made it out of oppressed environments. For as much as it is considered an affront to call someone ghetto, black people are the worst offenders and more likely to distance themselves from people who are considered "ghetto." This after perpetuating the stereotype through music, entertainment, stand-up comedy, etc.

How insidious is that? Point being, the oppressed themselves have a lion's share responsibility in changing the narrative which can no longer be abdicated. Indeed, we must heal the wounds of oppression as systemically as the oppression itself. In changing the narrative and shifting our pre-cast mental models on racial differences (and indifference), we've talked about the implications for healing the wounds associated with being subjected to privilege. In reality, due to time and character limits, we've only scratched the surface but hopefully succeeded in carrying this re-storied narrative forward.

Clearly though, moving forward, the more daunting task and spirited solution lies in the joint discovery of what changing the narrative means for the healing process and what "re-membering" for the oppressed and oppressor looks like. From one particular vantage of scripture, it looks like them going from being the object of oppression to the subject of oppression. There is sanctification power in that.

How so?

In reading Deuteronomy 28:32 we come to see that there is a re-storying that provides a sanctifying rationale for oppression:

"Your sons and daughters will be given to another nation, and you will wear out your eyes watching for them day after day, powerless to lift a hand. A people that you do not know will eat what your land and labor produce, and you will have nothing but cruel oppression all your days."

In reading Deuteronomy 28, we find there is a deconstructing of history that may in fact help Black Americans make spiritual sense of our internalized oppression (that being the curse of slavery coming upon us for the sins of our forefathers on the flip side of the blessings of Deuteronomy 28). In reading Deuteronomy 28, there is a remembering of who we ALL truly are as God's people and how those blessings in the first part of the chapter invites us ALL back into a deeper meaning and accountability which brings us ALL back into deeper covenant with God?

Could that be the reason God says in Verse 64 he would send us BACK to Egypt in ships to be sold as slaves? Could America be Egypt? Who else was scattered by ships and sold as slaves? Who else could God have possibly been talking to? Irrespective of opinion, mine included, the authority of scripture opens the door for such re-storying that liberates us ALL, both Blacks & Whites. Knowing we are all playing a role in God's plan becomes the truth that sets the oppressed and the oppressor free as well as the privilege. In other words, bestowing privilege upon one group is God's necessary way of humbling the other. As a wise man once said, get humble or get humiliated. That notion itself can be liberating.

In closing, on the subject of freedom, and the power of reconciliation from justice and oppression, I draw from a man and moment that crystallizes all which we have discussed in this article. It offers our country hope and really fine illustration of narrative therapy, re-storying and remembering. That would be Nelson Mandela. There is a particular scene in the movie Long Walk To Freedom where Mr. Mandela is meeting with members of the government to negotiate the terms of his release and return to power. This is being done in secrecy. At this time, South Africa is imploding with violence and bubbling with resistance to the Apartheid regime. The only reason he is being released after serving 27 years of a life sentence in prison was to quell the resistance.

In this particular moving scene, after intense discussions around lines of demarcation and various demands on both sides, one of the officials gets down to the nitty gritty. Fear. He asks a question of Mr. Mandela to the effect of "how do we know you're not going to do to our people what we did to yours." In the minds of the oppressor, they naturally thought the transfer of power would come at their demise and the so-called turning of the tables of injustice and oppression on them. However, Mr. Mandela demonstrated through the personal agency acquired from fighting injustice and oppression, how love transcends all.

In this narrative therapy session, Mr. Mandela exhibited the power of deconstructing the language of oppression and power of re-storying by saying, essentially, after experiencing and witnessing the atrocities inflicted upon himself and his people at the hand of apartheid, the last thing he could ever bring himself to do, in good conscious, is inflict the same upon someone else. He then demonstrated the best practice of changing the narrative and remembering by harnessing the power of unity through sports to unite instead of divide.

He did so by choosing the high-spectacle occasion of a World Cup Rugby match and his first national appearance as President to wear the jersey of the team which represented one of the most hated symbols of apartheid for Black South Africans. Bottom line, the Springbok jersey was a symbol of oppression. But yet Mandela wore it. He did it as a demonstration of reconciliation and to show blacks and whites their shared identity as a nation.

?In closing, in the immortal words of Nelson Mandela:

"No one is born hating another person because of the color of his skin, or his background, or his religion. People must learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love, for love comes more naturally to the human heart."

The End.