And: today, here in Vermont, I found myself behind a pickup liberally (ha!) adorned with Confederate flag and anti-Obama stickers.
A young, fat, white guy was dimly visible via the side mirror.
It’s one of those intersections where one often waits a long time for an opening.
As we waited, I imagined jumping out of my car, walking up to the driver’s open window and saying, “Hey, can I buy you a coffee or something? I feel like we might have a lot in common, though our bumper stickers don’t suggest that. I’m curious. How about you?”
Because although I deplore racism, I know many white supremacists have feelings about our world rather similar to my own. Deep feelings of terror, pain and frustration. Even though our minds don’t agree on causes or remedies, there are places to meet in mutuality.
While I’m not saying this kind of conversation alone will end violence, it seems like a good offering for the feast table at this time…
Of course, the traffic opened and my neighbor drove away whom I contemplated whether I had the courage to approach him.
Maybe next time…
This hateful rejection will kill us all. What do I have to lose?