Am I racist? – Today’s Adventist

[ad_1]

by Carsten Thomsen | January 20, 2023 |

I was born in Denmark in 1949, into a white Protestant culture. Multiculturalism had not yet arrived.

Our family moved to the United States when I was 9 years old. We have moved from Denmark’s largest Adventist enclave, centered around Skodsborg Sanitarium, to its model in Battle Creek, Michigan.

Battle Creek had its white and black neighborhoods. Black neighborhoods were perceived as poorer, less clean and less desirable.

But as a summer postman in Battle Creek, I probably delivered mail to most residences in town. I felt a special aura in the black community, with more children playing in the streets and more life.

There were two churches in town: the Battle Creek Tabernacle and, a few blocks up Van Buren Street, the Berean Church. One Sabbath, a friend and I ventured to Berean Church and were overwhelmed during the after Sabbath School break by the warm welcomes and endless invitations to come home with people for lunch. We had never experienced anything like it. But we also felt unease and discomfort with the situation, so we declined.

Then there was my dear aunt. For eight years, she showed up every day in her Ford Galaxy at Battle Creek Academy and drove me home after school. She was a sweet, kind and generous person, a retired career nurse from the US Army. But she was also a member of the John Birch Society and the Armstrongs Worldwide Church of God. She bombarded me with racist tirades about the joint conspiracy of blacks, Jews and communists, as well as the terrible quality of female drivers.

During my four years at Andrews University, I mostly stayed in my WASP bubble. The exposure to academic thinking has slightly expanded my tunnel vision. It was during the rebellious late ’60s era, and I was drawn to Andrews’ liberal teachers such as Don McAdams, Herold Weiss, and Roy Branson.

But even though the campus was more multicultural than before, it had little influence on me. I remember one day in the Tuesday morning chapel at the Pioneer Memorial Church when the speaker said yes, even some of my best friends are black. A shocked gasp at his perceived complacency echoed through the audience.

A life changing experience

And then, one day after graduating, while visiting the East Coast, I had a life-changing experience.

On the train from New York to Philadelphia, I sat across from a black couple who owned a shoe store in Newark. They struck up a conversation, and I was immediately overwhelmed by the warmth and grace they exuded, their zest for life, the vitality and love in their demeanor.

I was stricken with extreme guilt when I found myself secretly wishing they were my parents. My parents were good parents, but disciplined and inexperienced in expressing emotions. The black couple lit up an empty place in my heart.

I realized that my initial environment had instilled a form of unconscious racism in my whole being. And having received this in my childhood and adolescence, it became part of my reflexes and second nature. Throughout my life, I have struggled to open up. Openness to other races, cultures, musical expressions, sexual expressions, types of food and other religions.

Expanded horizons

However, I also had this great privilege: I worked in worldly organizations. They sent me to travel around the world where I discovered many different cultures on their terms. I was never greeted at the airport by local Adventists, like a pastor would be, surrounded by people who would keep me safe in the Adventist bubble.

It was a great blessing and helped me broaden my horizons. But it still hasn’t been easy!

Am I racist then? Are my parents and my aunt guilty? Is the Battle Creek environment to blame?

Is my learned systemic racism part of my original sin, a burden I must carry for the rest of my life?

The answers may not be easy, but looking back, I consider that train ride 50 years ago to Philadelphia to be a landmark event. It was not I who went into the world to convert the world. Instead, the Lord sent this wonderful couple to convert me! By showing their love and benevolence, they started me on the path of vaporizing the prejudices engraved in my subconscious.

Carsten Thomsen is a recently retired electronics engineer who has lived in Michigan and Austin, Texas, and now back in Denmark. He has two daughters, three grandchildren and a wife who has lain in his grave for eight years. She often said, when Carsten dies, they’ll put him in the casket with a computer mouse in one hand and a digital camera in the other. Among the pleasures of retirement, there is the pleasure of bathing all year round in winter.

To join the conversation, click/tap here.

[ad_2]