Silence creates monsters. I didn’t realize that until recently. But our silence is deadly. It’s time to speak up.
The weekend before the most devastating election in the history of America, my husband and I went to see The Weight at The Kessler in Oak Cliff, a neighborhood just south of Dallas. Oak Cliff is, in my opinion, one of the only parts of Dallas worth visiting. Even these days, now that it’s trendy and hip and cool (which means it is so crowded), it still has everything you need without having to go far: a strong community, gorgeous old homes, walkable neighborhoods, Dallas’ best music venue, good eclectic restaurants, great coffee shops, yoga studios, art galleries, florists, bookstores, you name it.
While at The Kessler, we sat down next to an older couple who recently moved to Kessler Park, a community in Oak Cliff, from Houston, to be closer to their daughter and grandson. We’re having a nice conversation about Houston and Dallas, how lucky they are to be living in Kessler Park, and how much they loved the music of The Band (some of whose members now make up The Weight). And then, out of nowhere, the woman says how she likes living in the neighborhood, except for all the blacks.
And she keeps talking, and I sit there, dazed, not totally sure what just happened, staring at her mouth moving, no longer listening to the words coming out of her mouth. I didn’t know what to do, so we got up, and moved to the other part of the venue.
We bolted, because I was too confused and stunned to say anything. I couldn’t believe she thought those words were appropriate, and that I would be on her side: that it was OK to say those words to me. So we left.
Here’s what I should have done: I should have responded, verbally. I should have told her that her words were racist, that all people are equal, that the color of our skin does not matter, and how the diversity of Oak Cliff is what makes it such an incredible place to live. How the African American community IS Oak Cliff. She’s the outsider. How she should feel bad for thinking people of another race are different, or bad, or lesser than her.
But I didn’t. I froze. And then left, without saying a word.
And that is what feeds hatred. That is what feeds ignorance. Silence is not golden. Silence is deadly.
It is not OK to stay silent.
To the woman at The Kessler listening to The Weight who said she’d prefer that all the blacks leave Oak Cliff: you are wrong. You are racist. You are horrible for saying that. I am ashamed that you thought I would AGREE with you, that it was OK to say those words to me. It’s not OK. That mentality is not tolerated. Never. You should be ashamed of yourself. WE ARE ALL THE SAME. I will never, ever in the rest of my life, allow words such as those to be spoken to me without speaking up in return. Silence breeds racism.
So here’s what to do: speak up. If you see ignorance, speak up. If you see hatred, speak up. If you see violence towards women, speak up. If you see racism, speak up. It’s our job now to create the world in which we want to live in. No one can do that for us. Don’t allow ignorance to breed. We have to make this country better.
The week before Thanksgiving in Texas is still warm, so I’m still making smoothies every day. I love smoothies. This one is based on the Green Smoothie at my favorite restaurant in Fort Worth, Qana Cafe. They use the freshest ingredients and everything is prepared by scratch, to order. Nothing is rushed, nothing is processed, nothing is from a box. That place is the real deal. There’s no better restaurant here, and there’s no better people to run it.
Silence is Deadly and the Best Smoothie Ever
Ingredients
- 2 c. spinach
- 2 c. mango, frozen
- 12-15 mint leaves, large
- 1 tsp. fresh ginger
- 2 c. water
Instructions
- Blend all ingredients in a high powered blender for a few minutes, until smooth. Pour in glasses and enjoy immediately. Smoothie will last in glass jars in the fridge for 1-2 days.