Look, listen, and feel. For decades, training in cardiopulmonary resuscitation (CPR) began with that guideline, as a way to determine if someone needed chest compressions or rescue breathing. Look for the movement of the chest. Listen and feel for airflow against your ear and cheek. The approach was logical, evidence-based. It was easy to remember. And it helped keep people who were unconscious or simply asleep on the streets from having their ribs squeezed by an overly enthusiastic responder.
The guideline worked too – at least in part. Unfortunately, there was a big drawback in its use: it often delayed action. Most lay people, having little or no experience in medical care, took too long fussing over an unresponsive person trying to figure out whether or not the person was breathing. As a result, fewer people received quick and effective resuscitation And some people died who may otherwise have been saved.
For far too long, I’ve followed an objective ‘look, listen, and feel’ framework when it comes to social justice. Yes, I’ve supported equity in our collaborative social and health system responses. I’ve looked at the published data, I’ve listened to the disparity trends, and I’ve felt the concern of colleagues and community regarding the tragic continuation and effect of racism at individual and structural levels. There is no doubt: systemic racism has led to inequitable treatment, outcomes, and access to services in American society. It has resulted in a well-founded fear among millions of citizens and families that basic community structures, such as law enforcement, exist not for their safety but for the safety of others. Black parents teach their children to expect targeting because of their skin color. They train their children as many themselves were trained – don’t show disrespect, don’t run, don’t resist. I’ve heard all this, over the years. I’ve been saddened by what I’ve heard. I’ve believed it, and borne witness to the inequitable outcomes regarding health, mortality, and social impact in many personal and professional interactions. Recently, I’ve even looked – usually with eyes partially averted – at the devastating recordings of brutality, of bigotry, and of bias. Like many physicians, I have seen my share of trauma and tragedy within the walls of hospitals. Like many of my colleagues, I do not want to visually see more evidence of the ugly awfulness of what hate is capable of doing to human beings. The memories of horrific sadness lurk beneath the surface of my experience, ready to reach up from their murky submersion and grab hold of me deep from within. So I have tried not to look at recent events – not really. And I have tried to hear without listening the renewed cries for help from Black America – not fully. And I have tried to feel the anguish, the despair, and the anger felt by black people in American – with detached emotional engagement. Yes, we need change. Yes, we have clear evidence of active racism. Yes, we have leadership who deliberately fan the flames of hatred and division openly burning in our country.
Yet I have not acted. I have diagnosed and kept a dispassionate distance. I have not joined the movement decrying racism and demanding justice. I have felt no outrage.
Until now.
BLACK LIVES MATTER. Yes, all human lives matter. Yes, not all police are thugs and yes we must not succumb to a social philosophy of bitterness and acrimony. But know this, my white friends, colleagues, and community members. This is about action. This is about NOW. It is not about losing ourselves in the wasteland of distracting noise and conversation. For too long, black lives have not mattered. We must affirm, together and in one voice, that Black Lives Matter.
Look! You can see with your own eyes how black people are treated differently. Listen! You can hear with your own ears how terrified, disheartened, and angry so many black people are. Feel! You can sense with our own hearts, with your whole being, how injustice is occurring and you can know, beyond any doubt, that this injustice must be opposed.
So be outraged. Act. Black people don’t need white people to sympathize. They need us to speak out. They need us to vote. They need us to stand firm against racism in all its forms. All people of color need American society to respond in this way. And right now, in this time and in this America, every person of every skin color needs to feel outrage. This is not a time for caution, not a moment for timid statements of support. Feel outrage. Do something productive with that outrage. Talk with others. Demand accountability and change. Stand up to and against bigotry when you see, hear, and experience it.
Because racism is openly on display. I shouldn’t need a black leader to tell me that there is and has been a clear double standard in this country since the first days of slavery; I can see it. I shouldn’t need a community leader to interpret for me the code of bigotry that slips or unashamedly spills from elected leaders, appointed officials, and media pundits; I can hear it. I should not need anyone to describe the pain and suffering that racism, hate, and polarizing language brings to so many American people; I can feel it in my conscience and I am stirred by it in my soul.
Look, listen, and feel? The American Heart Association dropped the phrase from its guidelines because a delay in recognition of unresponsiveness costs lives. It is time white America dropped it from our own response to racism because our delay in engagement is costing lives. Too many lives. Too many wonderful, beautiful, and abbreviated lives.
If you are white, don’t get caught up in the fragile hesitancy of uncertainty, indecision, or guilt. Skins are the color that skins are. That should not matter in America. Be outraged when it does matter. Say yes to Black Lives Matter.
Act. Responsibly. Respectfully. Compassionately. But please act.