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She shook her head. “I’m just tired of white people looking down on my race, destroying us bit by bit, while they simply go on with their lives, unaffected by it all, pretending the problem doesn’t even exist.” She looked at him. “All that time, money, and resources spent on keeping this country divided. If we had just honestly confronted our history, and spent far less than a tenth of that time, money, and resources on bringing us together, do you know what kind of country we would have right now?”
“I think I do actually, and it makes me want to weep at the wasted opportunity,” he replied solemnly.
“Your race is going to have to rethink its opinions of my people at some point. The true obstacle is, while doing that, whites have to alter their opinions of themselves. And they clearly don’t want to do that, because looking in the mirror that hard is no fun.”
Kelly stroked his chin, looking thoughtful, and then said, “James Baldwin debated William F. Buckley at Cambridge Union in England several years ago. I was fortunate to see a broadcast of it last year. I have never before or since heard such raw, powerful eloquence from a human being as I did from Baldwin. He spoke about many things that day. But, as a priest, one part particularly resonated with me. He said that, basically, whites may be even more emotionally and spiritually damaged by their racist beliefs and terrible actions than the Blacks are by those very same beliefs and actions.” He noted the scar by her eye. “How awful it must be to think you have the right to harm another person... for no reason. I can only imagine that attacker’s soul is... empty.”
She said firmly, “I have a difficult time feeling sorry for any white person who seeks to subjugate my race.”
“Oh, I hold no sympathy for their beliefs and actions, for they are repugnant. As a man of God, my sorrow is only for the damage to their soul.” He paused again. “The news is full of the war being fought by this country.” He added hastily, “I’m not speaking of Vietnam. The war I’m talking about is being fought right here, and it could end what has been a spirited if flawed experiment in self-governance. And as Winston Churchill once said so succinctly but brilliantly, democracy is the worst form of government there is, except for all the others.”
“You sound more like an academic than a priest,” noted DuBose.
He smiled. “I earned a degree in political science from Columbia University before receiving the calling and entering the priesthood.” He glanced at her. “You know of the Golden Rule?”
“Of course.”
“So simple and yet so devilishly clever. It’s no secret that people are often self-serving. But society can still flourish because everyone basically wants the same things, and rising water lifts all boats.”
“Not for people of my color. They didn’t lift our boats, they carried us to slavery in theirs.”
“Yes. Although, some argued against slavery from an economic point of view. It was felt that paid labor was more profitable, because it incentivized people to work harder, whereas forced labor did not.”
“A whip and death threats can be great motivators,” pointed out DuBose.
“Yes, they can,” conceded Kelly.
She said, “And I’m not impressed with the morals of anyone who can only make an economic argument against slavery.”
“I think those people felt it was the only tactic that would work with greedy slaveowners. Some philosophers favored an omnipotent monarchy free from all accountability. Slavery flourished in such a world. Whereas Jefferson and the other Founding Fathers chose the will of the people and the freedom to pursue life, liberty, and happiness as their ideal governing model.”
“But they never managed to address the enslavement of my people, and now centuries later here we are.”
“One would have thought a civil war would have laid to rest the indefensible, but somehow it didn’t.”
“On the contrary—the war was fought and won. The lack of political will to carry on the ideals that men and women gave their blood and lives for? That was the failure.”
Kelly smiled. “Do I sense a fellow political science aficionado in my presence?”
“I thought the study of it was important.”
“That and a good understanding of history, if only to not repeat the blunders of the past. But, back to the Golden Rule: ‘Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.’ It combines the knowledge that we are egocentric beasts, but that we must get along to prosper and live in peace. And really, is it such a burden to be nice and respectful to others?”
“Well, for more than a few, it certainly seems to be quite impossible. But the rule only works if we truly practice it for everyone,” pointed out DuBose.
“Agreed. There can be no half measures, or the failure of society—of this country, in fact—will be inevitable.”
“So what do you propose we do about it?” she said bluntly.
“I continue to do what I do, and you continue to do what you do, Miss DuBose.”
“And the Father Matthews of the world?”
“He, and those like him, will not live forever.”
Scowling, she said, “That doesn’t work and you know it. Racism is a virus passed from the old to the young.”
“So our job is not to merely wait for the source of the hate to die, but to touch the minds of those coming of age so that racism cannot take root.”
