Forgiveness as oppression?

Forgiveness is an intimate thing. To offer grace to a person is to look inward and find peace and to offer that peace externally. Or at least it can be. Forgiveness can be a religious or moral imperative. For some it is less a choice and more a mandate, while for others it is a guiding principle that feels right. Whatever my thoughts on forgiveness I know it is a deeply personal thing.

Personal as it is, I have noticed, that there seems to be a double standard regarding forgiveness both in who should proffer it and when it should be given. So strangely does it emerge that I can’t tell how much of the norms we all adhere to are an external expectation we have been conditioned to oblige or an internal one we hold ourselves to.

I notice it most with black people and women. And where those two things overlap it becomes the nexus of a forgiveness venn diagram that I shudder against.

In the wake of the South Carolina Massacre there was a volley of forgiveness offered. In the wake of the initial judge invoking the “victimhood” of Roof’s family and friends, (even before the burial of all of the actual victims) survivors and the families of the murdered, showed a grace I cannot fathom, a grace I hope I never need to know.

When Mo’Ne Davis, the 13-year-old champion softball pitcher, was called a slut by a college athlete a few months ago, she quickly forgave him and went out of her way to request his scholarship reinstatement from the university that revoked it (they resolutely declined). And in the wake of all of the media fervor, social and video, everyone praised her for it.

I remember thinking, “she’s a way better person than me.” I may even have lamented that I didn’t have it in me to do what she did. Jezebel and a myriad of tweets and articles applauded her benevolence. We collectively agreed that she was on the high road and we should all aspire to walk on that same road.

Except, maybe we shouldn’t.

There were a few voices that did not blame Mo’Ne but used her forgiveness and our collective applauding of it, to critique what we are supporting when we encourage a child to rally for her tormentor.  Mo’Ne is young, her whole life she has taken her lessons and cues from all of us grown folks who should know better. Her prompt forgiveness showed us what she’d learned.

We encouraged a girl-child to offer protection to the man who was verbally abusing her. We praised her for it, proving, in case she had any doubt, that it was the right thing to do. 

These two things are linked in my brain now: the massacre and Mo’Ne. I find myself talking about them as if they are the same event. 

Yes, I realize that murder and name calling are in no way equal, but I believe that the same impetus drives both situations. They do share common threads. 

In both cases there is an absolution for the perpetrator without anything…not even a heartfelt apology. In both cases we extol those that were most harmed for forgiving those who harm the most.

A few days ago when Dzhokhar Tsarnaev’s trial ended and he stood up to apologize for the Boston bombing there was a great deal of righteous rage from survivors and families. They were hurt two years ago…are still hurting. They are angry. There is little talk of forgiveness and even less expectation that there should be.

I hope everyone offering forgiveness in South Carolina is doing so without fear or guilt or pressure of any kind. I hope it is truly a personal act that helps in their healing. At the same time, I hope that in the future, black people and women take a little more time before we offer up blanket forgiveness for any number of attacks against our bodies and minds. 

Forgiveness is as much about the person giving it as it is about the person receiving it, I get that, still…I wish we’d give ourselves as much latitude to grieve and rage as we provide the transgressors in grace.

They call our children “thugs,” “nappy-headed hos,” “cunts,” and “sluts,” and we teach them to forgive. And when they kill our children, like animals, then their parents are asked to forgive the murderers.

You see how “forgiveness” sometimes operates as part of the paradigm of oppression, and how their hatred has no regard for age? – Dr. Stacey Patton