Why We Can't Just "Move On"

Recently, I posted about US Senator Tom Cotton's statement regarding his position against the 1619 project, which he claims is "a racially divisive, revisionist account of history that denies the noble principles of freedom and equality on which our nation was founded."

This past week (July, 2020), Cotton introduced federal legislation to prohibit public schools from using federal funds to teach the 1619 Project. The legislation would also prohibit the allocation of federal professional development funds to schools that teach the project, effectively censoring educators by withholding needed resources.

His direct quote:

"As the Founding Fathers said, it (slavery) was the necessary evil upon which the union was built, but the union was built in a way, as Lincoln said, to put slavery on the course to its ultimate extinction."

There's so much to unpack here, but to shine a light on this idea of "necessary evils," I added this commentary in my post:

"Let’s talk about how slavery as it existed in the 1800s might be over, but this mindset - which exists today - continues to fuel America’s relentless injustice. Because murder, rape and all manners of abuse are acceptable as long as the outcome is good for those in power. People of color in society and in workplaces are often seen as a means to an end. Any suffering that transpires on the way to a goal is collateral damage. This is the sickness of racism. We must do better."

I realized after reading a few comments this morning that what some Americans seem to have gleaned from Tom Cotton's statement and related position is a call to "focus on the positive" - an acknowledgement that slavery was bad, but with the subtext that we should embrace America's good intent so we can move forward. It's a nice idea, but deeply flawed, in my opinion. Please stay with me as I attempt to explain.

To humanize the issue, I invite you to reflect on a time in your life when you expressed hurt and someone in your circle asked you to "move forward." No, really. Please take a moment to consider an actual example when you gave voice to residual pain or disappointment about an incident or circumstance, and a person who claimed to care about you suggested you move on. Maybe, as a proof point, they referenced good intentions or - at a minimum - the absence of malice. How did you feel? Did you agree or disagree? Did the idea of moving on without addressing the source of your pain help lessen the pain? Did attaching yourself to the idea of a future without pain make the pain disappear? And if you did move on, how did you feel about that person afterward?

I ask because, when harm persists, moving on from pain without acknowledging how it has affected your life does little good in the long run. Even worse, it often irrevocably damages the relationship between you and the suggester. Instead of facilitating healing, it teaches victims to suppress their feelings, and it absolves the perpetrator (or purveyors of the harmful idea) of responsibility.

Sometimes, when people ask you to move on, it's a sign of their inability or unwillingness to join you on the path to healing. In the case of racial reconciliation, some simply do not want to participate. That is, of course, their prerogative. Some do want to - they just don't know how. And some...well, some really just want to move on.

Below, please read five (unspoken) meanings behind the common phrase "Let's move on."

1. This is too hard: "I can no longer sit in the discomfort of this (or my) transgression."
2. You're overreacting: "What happened (or what I did) really wasn't that bad."
3. It's over: "There's nothing we (or I) can do about it."
4. It's not my fault: "I am not responsible for your feelings or circumstances."
5. I meant well: "They (or I) didn't meant to hurt you, so you shouldn't feel hurt."

Do any of these statements resonate? Have you, perhaps unconsciously, held one or more of these beliefs about how Black people in America should contend with the outcomes of slavery? And if so, what does it mean to recognize yourself in these statements?

Here's the rub: If we want to heal forward together from the harm racism has inflicted on this country and its citizens (and that's an intentional "if"), we must acknowledge and reconcile the residual damage of slavery. I know it's a difficult conversation. I understand it was a long time ago. But the impact of the system is still felt in the distribution of wealth and health, in public safety and risk, in law and policy, in opportunity inequity, in our schools, and in random 1-to-1 encounters every day...in every city in America.

We have an opportunity to heighten our awareness of how we engage in the conversation about race. To raise our collective consciousness regarding the words we use and what they reveal about our own beliefs and limitations. To be better listeners. And then, to move forward on purpose, with clarity and the courage of our convictions at our backs.

Friends, I don't want us to simply "move on." I want us to move through this uncomfortable, but crucial. time together. In truth and in love. Our children deserve that. And so do we.

Tara Jaye Frank is a passionate leadership and culture speaker and consultant, a blessed wife, a grateful mother of six children ages thirteen to twenty-two, and a firm believer in human potential. She designs and facilitates leadership experiences for companies and member organizations and recently founded #MoreThan: A Movement - a healing movement toward deeper understanding between disconnected people. Share your #morethan story at morethanamovement.com and join the movement on IG/Twitter @morethanmove, and on Facebook @morethanahealingmovement.