WHY IS IT DANGEROUS TO ASK A PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES TO BE MERCIFUL?

Why is it dangerous to ask a President of the United States to be merciful?

I encourage everyone in the United States, political persuasion aside, to reflect carefully on the possible dangers embedded in the decision of Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde to ask our newly inaugurated President to have mercy during a prayer service at the National Cathedral. She asked for mercy for the immigrants who had been routinely maligned with dehumanizing and threatening descriptions. She asked for mercy for the many children living in fear of the loss of their immigrant parents. She asked for mercy for the children in fear for their lives because of their sexual identities. In her own words:

“Millions have put their trust in you. And as you told the nation yesterday, you have felt the providential hand of a loving God. In the name of our God, I ask you to have mercy upon the people in our country who are scared now.”

Why or how could such a request on the part of an ordained Episcopal Bishop invite danger in the form of offensive public derision and hateful communications? Isn’t it the responsibility of a religious leader ordained in the Christian faith to defend those who are helpless and marginalized? Isn’t it the right of an ordained Bishop, in their own house of worship, to represent the values and beliefs of their faith? Why are we surprised or even outraged when their conscience compels them to try to wipe away the tears of the real children and adults who have been reduced to offensive and dehumanizing political descriptions? Is it possible, as this blog will suggest, that we in the United States have fallen into a pit of silence so deep that speaking truth to power has been reduced to a dangerous radical act?

This blog entry is written neither to explore partisan politics nor to examine the merit of the specific focus on Bishop Budde’s plea. Rather, it is written for two purposes. One purpose is to ask you to consider what you might fear if you spoke up to advocate for justice and fairness in a controversial issue affecting your family, community, or workplace? The other purpose is to suggest that the way to reduce the danger of speaking up in our democratic society is to make it more of a norm and less of a striking phenomenon. When the courage to speak up in controversy abounds, critical targeting of isolated individuals becomes much more difficult.  I see it as an essential social responsibility, for the good of all, to speak up when groups of people are being treated in ways to which we object on personal, moral, or religious grounds.

What are we afraid of? I will use the example of the many graduate students, already professional educators, who attended my university classes. When I urged these educators to bravely stand up for children and advocate for equity and equality in schools, I consistently ran into roadblocks. Most of my wonderful students readily recognized and freely discussed inequities and injustices in education: vast disparities in school funding, resegregation and increased stratification of privileged and disprivileged students, harsher school discipline policies for students marginalized by race or class, inappropriate focus on practicing for standardized tests rather than fostering deep and meaningful learning, and dehumanizing educator talk about students affected by poverty (to name a few). However, once I suggested the importance of their willingness to stand up and speak out about injustices, the discussion frequently took a steep detour. My students shared their real fears about the risks of speaking out. Assertive advocacy for disprivileged students receiving inferior school services might antagonize their colleagues and administrators, which would make their daily workplace uncomfortable. Testimony at a school board meeting about unfair discipline practices targeting poor children would likely result in retribution and the loss of advancement opportunities. Exposure to the press of the impact of unequal resources on children in school was sure to result in plunging performance evaluations, transfer, or even loss of their jobs. The list went on and on but the message was the same. Speaking out on behalf of the more vulnerable and marginalized students would place the educators at risk for retaliation. They said they knew people who had experienced such retribution, they feared it, and they had to think first about protection of their careers and their families.

How about you? Have you thought carefully about the reasons why you might prefer to remain silent or to stay behind the scenes? Do you privately acknowledge injustice and unfairness where you live or work but stay quiet for fear of discomfort or retribution?  Do you feel that you must compromise the ideals with which you began your job or career to survive in it? Are you afraid of antagonizing friends and neighbors by standing up for those experiencing oppression or discrimination in society? Such thoughts and feelings are not without justification, because life can change considerably when we represent our values and beliefs out in the open. However, if we cherish the Constitutional ideals of liberty and justice for all, and we value our right to the freedom of speech, we need the courage and humility to stand up for what we believe is right. This doesn’t mean that we have to depart from courtesy and sensitivity to the beliefs and values of others. It does mean that we need to be people known for strongly articulating our own beliefs and social concerns.

Years ago, as a graduate student at Teachers College, Columbia University, I took an inspiring course with an accomplished scholar and activist in the area of juvenile justice. They told us that, as educators, we needed to struggle to understand and help children in great trouble even when we didn’t think we were making any progress. “They will know you are struggling for them,” they said, “and seeing you struggle with perseverance will give them the confidence to struggle for themselves in the future.”

I would like to thank Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde for renewing my belief that there are many brave, peaceful citizens who take the risk of speaking out to protect the most vulnerable and marginalized people of our nation and of the world. It is time, perhaps more than ever before, to stand up for those who are endangered, oppressed, and marginalized. There are risks, yes, but there are also great rewards—not the least of which is knowing that we are people who have the courage to come out of ourselves and be known in public for our compassionate commitment to freedom and justice for all.

This blog is written by Beatrice Fennimore (Bz Fennimore) an educator and activist whose career has focused on child advocacy, public school equity, social justice, and the practice of anti-bias education. 

https://www.bzfennimore.blog