I belong to a church with a long tradition of activism.

I belong to a church that shows up for protest marches, post-disaster relief efforts, community education, and grassroots initiatives.

We’re mostly white. We want to be and make efforts to become more diverse.

Sadly, even after decades of work around all the justices—social, educational, climate, reproductive, racial, voting…—sometimes, we still step in it.

What to do about white blind spots? How do we scrub those away?

We have to do better.

Priorities matter. Racial justice needs to be more than a slogan on our sign.

Violence, inequity, and racism are not relics of history. They’re still shaping lives and communities today.

Our community of color is tired.

• Tired of telling us so.
• Tired of teaching us what it takes.
• Tired of watching us wait for someone else to do the work.
• Tired of carrying burdens we helped create.

I was tempted to take this essay to one of my Black friends and ask, “Did I get this right?”

No, Pennie!!

I caught myself. Asking someone else to check my work felt like a good idea—until I realized that, once again, I’d be asking someone else to do work that belongs to me.

That’s a white blind spot.

Homework to Do

The problems are not a secret. Finding resources doesn’t have to be mysterious: books, podcasts, essays, histories, workshops, conversations already taking place.

The homework exists.

The question is whether we’re willing to do it.

I may not get it right the first time I stand up to support a Black friend. Maybe I’ll get it wrong many times. But I’ll stand and take one first step to make sure that one lone Black voice is not the only one to call out the problem.

I’m not standing to save the day. They don’t need a white savior.

I stand to be and become an ally.

If I don’t know what to say, I can keep it simple: “I agree” or “Thank you for saying that.”

It’s hard work, but it can be done if we come to the table with openness to how we can support a community that we’ve leaned on too hard to fix what we broke.

I belong to a church that wants to do and be good. I still love my church, but we stepped in it a little this week. We need to start this work with what’s on the bottom of our shoes.

The reason I’ll keep showing up—what gives me hope—is I believe we will bend over, take a good look, and get to work.

©Pennie Nichols. All Rights Reserved. 2026