On Crashes, Violations, and Rights

It’s late at night, and a couple drives home from a party, decked out in their party finery. The wife, in the passenger seat, goes from flirtatious talk to a normal sexual act between husband and wife. In the meantime, a police officer and his partner watch the vehicle driving by and the senior officer follows and then pulls over the vehicle. In a  prejudiced act, the officer claims the couple fits the description of a carjacker. While the husband remains silent and cooperative, the wife appears agitated and argumentative. In response, the senior officer orders the couple out of the vehicle and pats down both, violating the wife by groping and caressing her private areas.

It would be nice if this scene from the movie Crash was just a work of fiction. A string of public encounters between black suspects and white officers suggests that this happens more often than it should. Granted, we tend to see what hits the news cycle, so we don’t often hear about the killings of unarmed Latinos like Oscar Ramirez Jr. or even of whites such as Zachary Hammond of North Carolina. Sandra Bland’s encounter was public, eye opening, and revealing.

One common response you see from people is that Sandra got what she deserved. They usually say, “If you would just cooperate with the police, these kinds of things won’t happen to you.” Its variant goes something like, “If you mess with the police, don’t be surprised when they mess back.”

Reconsider Crash for a moment. Do we really want to make the argument that Thandie Newton’s character (Christine) deserves her sexual assault because she mouthed off to the police officer? That Cristine brought the gross violation of her personhood, her womanhood, upon herself? Isn’t this what we used to tell women when they showed up to church with a black eye? “You know how he is, Christine. If you don’t make him angry, he won’t hurt you.”

Is that what I should tell my daughter when I give her “the talk” that all responsible black parents give to their children? “Sweetie, don’t argue with the police officer when he pulls you over, or else he’s going to fondle your privates. If that happens, it’s your fault.”

Why, then, do we make the same argument when talking about Sandra Bland, Samuel Dubose, Eric Harris, or Walter Scott, to name four? When did the response to government abuse become, “Take the abuse and sort it out later.”? We have the right not to be violated by the police, regardless of our doing or wrong-doing. There is never, under any circumstances, an excuse for a police officer to treat Christine of Crash the way she was treated. Why then, do we offer excuses for the daily, common, violations blacks (and other races) experience on a daily basis? Life and liberty count among many unalienable rights common to all of humanity. Let’s remember that when we hear about the Sandra Blands of the world.

Will Poop for Chocolate

After a long hiatus, I’m back with a guest blog from the lovely Lenita Dunlap. Ms. Dunlap is the executive director of Heart House, an after-school program in the Vickery Meadow area of Dallas, Texas. She is also a doctoral student in Public and Urban Administration at the University of Texas at Arlington. Most importantly, she is my wife and mother to my son.

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As parents of an independent three-year-old, my husband and I had to figure out what would motivate our son for the significant milestone of going to the potty on his own. We knew he was capable. He’d demonstrated he had the knowledge of what to do and how to alert us; he had the ability to notify us and use the potty appropriately. He was ready, and yet he wouldn’t do it. Something held him back. A clean bottom should have been enough but it wasn’t.

As I studied my son, I realized that he likes chocolate. Correction: he loves all things chocolate. Struck by inspiration, I told him, “If you poop on the pot, mommy and daddy will give you chocolate.” Lo and behold, our son went to the pot on his own and did his business that very day. When we went to assist him, the first thing he asked is, “Where is my chocolate?” So yes, we found his motivation.

Leaders also have to discover what motivates staff. We often default to money or assume that a raise will do it, but is monetary compensation enough? You should pay your employees well, even if you work for or run a nonprofit. Passion for a mission is a great motivator but passion rarely sustains motivation; passion wanes and people get on your nerves. Position and title can often motivate. Employees like to know they’re progressing and that they play a significant role. Will that do the trick? I don’t know.

So what motivates? From my experience a true motivator understands the specific motivation of each person they lead. Yes, some value money, position and power, but what sustains most is the ability to be a part of something bigger than themselves. It’s aligning personal calling to the work they do, allowing a pathway to achieve greatness. It sounds dramatic, but it’s true: everyone wants to be significant. Even when they’re “just” working the accounting books, they want to matter. Folks need ownership. We need to understand why they’re passionate and tap into that passion to create something far better than you or they can imagine.

I remember attending a conference where a top executive of a beverage company shared that the best ideas for change came from within the company warehouse staff. The front line workers delivering the drinks understood best how to motivate themselves. Go figure.

At nonprofits we tend to focus so much on mission and forget about the people needed to carry out the mission. That same executive said they developed a culture where folks are invested, we need to do this more in nonprofits. So think about what motivates your team. Pay them fairly but more importantly invite them to the table and find their version of chocolate.

Faith Matters

I’ve met one honest atheist in my life.

As I recall, we sat at his dining room table when we got into a conversation about beliefs. He said to me, “Honestly, the theory of evolution as an origin of life explanation really doesn’t make a lot of sense.” In his view, there were too many variables, too many things to account for, and too many things that depended upon exactly the right set of circumstances to occur. In the end, it really came down to what you choose to put your faith in. He shrugged and said, “I choose to put my faith in science.”

When I have honest, non-charged conversations with atheists (and some agnostics), I find that it really boils down to two issues: the problem of evil and the answers of science. The answers they find in science trump the questions provoked by suffering in their mind. To be fair, I do not intend in this blog post to answer either of those questions. William Lane Craig and Alvin Plantinga, to name two, do a fairly good job of articulating the concept of middle knowledge to such a degree that many professional philosophers and theologians have ceded that portion of the argument to them. At the popular level, the battle continues to wage; at the scholarly level, the generals have left the battlefield and fight to take a different hill.

My atheist friend recognized something that most atheists I encounter refuse to admit: that it will always come down to faith. I’ve never met anyone who has actually seen an atom. I believe atomic theory because one of my teachers, whom I trust, taught it to me. They told me to read a book that provided eyewitness testimony, narrative exposition, and speculative analogies. Between my reading and their explanation, I choose to believe in a world that runs on the interactions between tiny objects. Why? I trust my teachers, I’ve had experiences that validated their teachings, and those teachings fit my understanding of the universe and its inner workings. I have faith that these things I believe but cannot see correspond to the reality I experience and perceive.

I would say the same thing about my belief in God.

One can respond in many ways to the problem of evil and the answers of science. The essential answer comes down to this: you will never fully understand, now what will you trust? Let’s not kid ourselves here. If God appeared to us and gave a full, detailed explanation and answer to the problem of evil that answered all of our questions, one of several things would happen. (1) Some would assert that God was not worthy of worship since the explanation was too simple. (2) Others would explain the explanation away and reject it. (3) The true believers would still believe. The problem is not one of questions, it’s a problem of trust. The problem is not one of choice, it’s a problem of trust.

Will you trust what you do not understand?

Giving locally to reach globally

Do you care about refugees? Low-to-moderate income families? Helping kids get access to education and opportunity?

Today, you need to go to https://www.northtexasgivingday.org/#npo/heart-house and give to Heart House Dallas, an after-school program in the heart of Vickery Meadow in Dallas, Texas. They provide safety, education, and opportunity to kids by providing a meal, homework assistance, and reading help to students whose parents have often fled those horrendous situations you read on the news. Over fifteen languages are represented at Heart House each day, from countries all over the world.

If you give today, this small organization will gain bonus funds as part of North Texas Giving Day. Your gift of $25 or more means these kids spend their afternoon hours receiving the help they need, away from the dangers of sexual predators and violent crime. For more infomration about Heart House, visit http://hearthousedallas.org/. Do them a favor. Do yourself a favor.

Give today.

On Grief

Grief

Is not a flood, nor an ocean, or a tide.

Grief is a dam made of bricks and mortar.

Holding back a river of happiness.

Grief holds memories, and time, and darkness.

Until the baking sun dries the supporting connections.

Grief crumbles and is transformed into red dust.

It can no longer hold the waters, which have long since turned to vapor.

Grief then, has passed away.

Dies a slow and painful death, and nothing

Remains.