Guest Commentary
Neighbor to Neighbor: No Small Gift
Cathy Barney

Almost two years ago, 25 people gathered at the Milford City Building for one evening of conversation on racism. It was honest, healthy, provocative and a response to Cincinnati's April 2001 riots. In fact, our group was more racially diverse than Milford itself: one-third African-American and two-thirds caucasian.

Today a core of 15-20 of us — black and white, male and female, professional, retired and some employed by our families — meet monthly with the same goal as the first time we met: breaking racial barriers by getting to really know each other.

By some measures, we haven't done anything especially radical or monumental. But, by our accounts, we have deeply enriched our lives by reaching out beyond our usual spheres of comfort and daily life.

We choose to lead by example and have crafted this statement: Our mission is to understand and respect life experience and cultures different from our own, then help others understand by speaking against injustice and becoming an example of compassion and love for all.

We don't always agree and, obviously, have not lived the same experiences. We have, however, created a safe place to bridge those differences openly. It's not always easy to bare our souls or even understand another's journey, but it is essential as we become closer. Those moments have gathered us in a way a pure social setting could not.

My eyes are open a bit wider because of this group. I no longer let thoughtless, senseless racist remarks slide by unnoticed. I now know people who have survived that kind of hatred, whose lives have been burdened by it, who have been treated as if they didn't count. I now know racism second hand, from the lips and hearts of friends and that has had a profound effect. It's not an intangible anymore. And it breaks my heart ... enough to want to do something about it. As one of our original members, Frank, says: “We can't change the whole world, but we can change ourselves and work one person at a time.”

I've also explored my actions and experiences and in some strange way have recognized that, because I am a member of the white privileged class, I am racist by virtue of almost always finding the door open, rather than slammed shut. The few times it hasn't budged because I am a woman, I draw on to attempt to understand what it must be like to be black and judged on something you can't change. It's frustrating and demoralizing. I simply can not imagine the ramifications of having it happen over and over, getting the repeated message that “you are nothing.”

Besides discovering our differences, I have also learned about our similarities and the greatest one is we all have hope. Hope that we are together and, by example, can make the world a less-racist place. Hope that the same thought lies in the hearts of most men, women and children of all colors. Hope that by being together, genuinely caring for one another and showing that, others will do the same.

Sometimes it seems we're back to square one and sometimes our ideas are overwhelming. But, I know one thing: at the very least I have a new group of friends that have given me so much. I count that as no small gift.

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