George Floyd

George Floyd’s death sickens me. 

I, like so many, would like to use the term “murder” – that may ultimately be the determination. I don’t want my prose to be used as an undue influence on a jury (why the news people always say “alleged” in their reporting).

Back to what is known: a police officer knelt on Mr. Floyd’s neck for more than eight minutes while he called out that he couldn’t breathe. He was being detained for potentially passing a counterfeit twenty. Again, he was being detained for potentially passing a counterfeit twenty. From everything I’ve read, he wasn’t armed; he wasn’t violent; he wasn’t a threat to the lives of the police officers.

I do not pretend a visceral understanding of African Americans’ experience in our country and hope that my humble words in this blog post are not insensitive.

I had the chance to work with a gentleman I consider a genius. He was the conductor of the University of Michigan Men’s Glee Club when I was the club’s faculty advisor. Eugene remains a good friend – we gathered this last week (respecting social distance admonishments!) and reflected on our attempts to guide a wonderfully diverse group of undergraduate (and some graduate) males. We laughed at some memories; we celebrated when we did a good job; we recalled lessons learned when we didn’t do so well. We so treasured our time with the club and think (hope?) we equipped these young men to contribute to the world.

Oh, and Eugene is African American. I mention that because race is important to – nay – critical to our current discussion.

While Eugene and I worked together, I asked him if my optimum racial consciousness would be color-blindness. He told me “No – I want you to see me as a black man; I want you to be aware of who I am, what I have experienced, and what I have achieved.”

That was an important lesson. That handed me an onus that I’ve come to welcome and treasure. I’ve tried to gain knowledge and empathy.

So, here we are. More awful instances that dismiss societal racial equality gains that then spark significant (and sadly, often violent) response.

I wish there was an easy way to convert bigots; to rectify prejudice; to advance the human soul.

Let’s all do one thing to counter prejudice each day.

Image credit:  [Adam Berry/Getty Images]

My unsolicited commencement adddress

To the Classes of 2020:

Well, yes. This sucks.

In other years, you’d have all the pomp and circumstance, family celebrations, caps, gowns – the whole kit and caboodle. This year, you have educators and families straining to create some form of recognition and festivity that may assuage at least part of the disappointment.

Ya know, there will be other disappointments in life where no one works to make the best of it. There will be lost jobs, broken relationships, family deaths, scary medical news – you get the picture.

The graduate chosen by his peers to speak at the (cancelled) commencement where I work, had a wonderful perspective. We created a website where faculty, staff, alumni recorded short videos, people could write congratulatory messages, the graduates were profiled and we featured a video of (I didn’t ask his permission, so I won’t use his name) the student speaking to his classmates.

He didn’t bemoan the lack of ceremony; he didn’t – in short – play the victim card for himself or his class. Instead, he spent time thanking everyone he could. His classmates, his mentors, the people scrambling to create the website, his family.  Near the end of his speech, he quoted author Melody Beattie:

Gratitude turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos into order, confusion into clarity...it makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow.

I know this is hard – but be mindful of the cars honking horns, the signs in the yards, the electronic good wishes, the painted campus rocks, and the Zoom gatherings. Be thankful, take good care of yourselves and your families, and stay well.

Wash your hands.