I have proudly called Atlanta home the past 10 years. I love this city. Love the way every building sits against the skyline. Love MARTA, though it doesn’t take me anywhere I need to go. Love the arts culture that weaves its way through every facet of this city. Love that in my apartment complex, I hear so many different languages spoken when I take walks. And I will always root for the Braves.
I was relieved The Atlanta Journal-Constitution posed the question, “Can what happened in Baltimore happen in Atlanta?” — relieved someone asked the same question I did, and noticed that racial tensions are not simply a Ferguson or a Baltimore problem. Or a “thug” problem.
This is an America problem, and it’s been growing for decades.
So far, I have heard and seen a resounding “Yes” to this question, and that answer breaks my heart. Atlanta is a great city “too busy to hate,” an epicenter for civil justice. What I’m seeing on TV is not something I ever want to see in our streets. Yet we may.
There is a serious racial inequality buried deep in the heart of this nation that must be aggressively and carefully extracted.
Even geographically, Atlanta is split racially. I-20 is a dividing line between the white and black communities. Metro Atlanta, undeniably, is marked by its silent segregation by its uninformed and irrational fear, and by some of the same problems that led to riots in Baltimore. These rioters have gone far too long as unheard, unseen, ignored and invisible. The unheard, unseen, ignored and invisible reside in our city, too. We must begin to hear, see, pay attention and give voice to those hurting around us.
Do we not have a responsibility to shape this much-needed conversation, not only for our city of Atlanta, but for the rest of the nation?
Every great movement starts with a conversation, with one person saying to another, “This isn’t quite right.” A conversation moved to action provokes change. Already, conversations are being held everywhere — in diners, coffee shops, parks and living rooms, at dinner tables and in courtrooms, in the homes of tired and hurting people, on the streets of Ferguson and Baltimore, and even alone to ourselves.
These conversations need to move us to action. But what kind of action? Will we join the conversation, listen to each other and join hands to find common ground? Or will we ignore the conversation, suppress the speaker and use our fists to fight for higher ground?
I submit that the conversation is the solution. If we do not pursue peaceful talks with each other, we will find ourselves on a battlefield that will drive us even farther apart. It will result in more bloodshed on all sides.
In the 1960s, America looked to Atlanta leaders to start a needed conversation about the equal and fair treatment of all people. America needed examples to navigate the overgrown roads of hatred and oppression. Today, America is searching for guidance through these same roads.
Atlanta, we need to RISE UP and demonstrate peace in this tumultuous time. These conversations need to take place publicly in our city. Why not start them peacefully?
We must start to assemble peacefully with each other to listen, understand and love each other. Whether we choose to acknowledge it or not, there is unrest and fear here. Let’s take it upon ourselves to maneuver through these issues by gathering publicly for reconciliation, not violence.
This is a call to leaders of all races and cultures to come together and move our conversations to real and positive change. If we do not work together to aggressively yet carefully extract the fast-growing tumor of hatred among us, we will watch it grow to kill us.
Let's start a new conversation. Reach me at SDeeWestbrook@gmail.com.
Dee Westbrook is an Atlanta musician and vocal coach.
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