This White Woman's Tears

This White Woman’s Tears

Some say that a history of 400 years of slavery and oppression

and injustice is embedded in the bodies of my black brothers and

sisters. In that light, I acknowledge that a history of 3000 years of

anti-semitic persecution, pograms, and genocide is embedded in

my own body. I’m not trying to win a contest here. I am sharing

with you one reason why this white woman’s tears must flow.

I cry when I’m happy. I cry when I am sad. I cry when I get a

minor boo boo. I cry when I’m touched. I cry when I am angry. I cry

when I am inspired. I cry when my feelings get hurt. I cry when

someone dies. I cry when someone gets married. I cry when a

new baby gets their name. I cry when I remember my grandparents

and my father. I cry when my former 7th grade students graduate

from high school. I cry when I remember Josiah Pratt Rose. I cry

when tragedies in my synagogue community happen. I cry when

I remember the Holocaust. I cry when I read books and watch

television programs and watch movies. (If I also laugh, then I

know it was a good one.) I am crying right now.

I can’t not cry when my black and brown brothers and sisters are

being mistreated and killed. I can’t not cry when thousands of

humans are unjustly incarcerated. I can’t not cry when the people

who are supposed to protect their communities harm them instead.

I can’t not cry when this country of mine has a leader who calls for

violence and a return to “good old days” that were not good for ALL

Americans. I can’t not cry when my heart and soul hurt so much.

This is how I express the feelings that I have inside of me. I need

to express myself through these tears. And this does not mean I

want or need to be comforted. This does not mean I want the

story to become about me. This does not mean everyone should

stop what they are doing and make sure I am okay. I am crying in

order to take care of myself. I will be okay, or at least as okay as

anyone can be when there is so much wrong with our country

and our world.

I cry with you. I cry because it hurts so much to see you hurting.

I cry because I can’t truly know for myself the burden my black

brothers and sisters must carry, but I can imagine. And I can

educate myself. I cry as I stand with you, for you, supporting

you, and voting for leaders who will stand with you, for you,

and support you.