Angry: Your Black Friend Speaks

I'm not angry and it's never been enough
It gets inside and it tears you up
I'm not angry and I've never been above it

--Matchbox 20

I am your black friend.  You know the one.  The one you went to school with.  The one you worked alongside. The one who is a huge U2 and Tom Petty fan.  The one who has a good job, a decent house in a decent neighborhood. The one with most adorable kids (aren't mixed kids just so beautiful?).  The one that you don't even think of as black (and besides you don't see color anyway.  You don't care if people are black, white, brown, green or purple, you love everyone). The one who is calm and reasonable. The one who is not militant. The one who doesn't get all cranky at a little joke, all in good fun.  The one who is not angry.  The one who doesn't make you uncomfortable.  That one, who by my very presence assures you that you can't be racist, because after all. . .there's me!  Granted I'm maybe a little liberal for your tastes and I've written some nice, thoughtful reflections on racial issues from time to time that you  disagree with but hey we can agree to disagree without getting all emotional and making it personal. You like that I never do that. I always manage to assure you that you are a good person and that you're disagreement with me does not make you a racist.

We've been friends for along time. Or maybe we haven't known each other that long.  Maybe we we have mutual friends, mutual histories, shared passions and in the age of social media we became friends without ever having met. There is mutual respect between us and that is real.  But I'm going to be honest with you and tell you I haven't been totally honest with you (and sometimes not even with myself). I'm not who you think I am.  I am not different from Them. The militant ones, the angry ones, the ones protesting in the streets, the ones that you most definitely do not forget are black. I am Them. I just never told you.

I've decided to tell you what I really think, how I really feel, who I really am. But first:

Why I Stayed Silent

I never told you any of this before for the following reasons:

• I thought I was helping. I thought I could get get you to understand the experience of black people in America by not upsetting you, not saying things that would discomfit you. I suppose it doesn't make much sense that I would get you to understand by not telling you certain things,but there it is.
• I valued being seen as different. I was secretly pleased that you thought that I wasn't like the others. I was kind of proud of it. That was arrogant. That was sick. That was self-hatred. It was not good for my mental health. And it was a betrayal of my black brothers and sisters.
• Society rewards black silence, and punishes black protest. We get a seat at the table if we don't throw it over (though God knows sometimes the tables need to be overturned). I didn't want my stances to alienate people, or cause some sort of blowback in my personal or professional life.
• It's my personality anyway. I'm this way in all areas of my life not just when it comes to race matters.  I don't like to upset people. I thrive on approval. Most of the time my tact and equanimity, my willingness to hear both sides, to look for common ground, and to avoid blasting people just to feel good are good traits, ones I am proud of, and don't plan to change even now.  But sometimes it's just cowardice.
• I've been afraid that if I give voice to my true feelings that they will overwhelm me.  There's some pretty deep hurt, and keeping it down makes it feel manageable.  I don't spend a lot of time dwelling on these thoughts because I don't want to be miserable.

Why I am Speaking Up Now and What I Hope to Accomplish

• My silence hurts the cause of black people in America. It doesn't help you either. When, I, your black friend smile and say nothing, it provides you with a path out. It enables you to avoid having to deal with the harsh reality of the ugly racial legacy of this country. I need to close that path.
• I need you to know that I'm not different. I mean yes, I'm different in that black people do not have a hive mind. We don't agree on everything or speak with one voice on every issue.  But the experience you hear the Black Lives Matters protesters yelling about? That is my experience too. It is the experience of every person of color in this country.  Because you see the only reason you think I'm different is because you know me. If you didn't, I just would be just another black man. I know you say you don't see color, but I guarantee you would see my color then.
• The rewards society offers for my silence and pleasantness aren't sufficient. Worse they are only offered to me individually.  To continue to accept them is selfish and wrong.
• I've been trying to grow in this area anyway.  I'm striving to bring more balance into my life. I'm trying to learn to be okay with people disliking me or misunderstanding me. 
• I hope to open some eyes. I want to put to use the good will I've accrued over the years. My hope is that when I speak you, you will say--well, wait this is Sean saying these things. I can't just dismiss it.
• To be frank, I'm also speaking because I think it's important to let you know where I stand even if I don't change your mind. If I'm bugging you (and I don't meant to bug ya'--white friends of a certain age will get that reference), you will either see your way out or you'll become so ugly towards me that eventually I will have to cut ties with you for the sake of my own mental health. Don't worry, I'm not going to unfriend you because you don't like what I'm saying--as long as you are respectful. But be warned: I'm going to push you. And you may not like it. I'm letting you know who I really am, but I also intend to push you to the point that you reveal who you really are.

So, my friend, you might as well know. I'm angry.  And I've got a lot to say.

Be angry and do not sin

                       --Ephesians 4:26