Dear Michael Rose-Ivey...

       I am a white girl from Western Nebraska. I have been raised in the Husker Nation culture, driving seven hours for many weekend games with my family, and traveling far and wide on winter break vacations as a kid. Our parents raised us right.

     We were also raised in a town where racism is not necessarily in your face, especially for a white girl, but when I examine history, I know it's here. Our small midwest town has a large Hispanic population, and a very small African American population. Based on some of the things my grandparents have said, I'm guessing people of color never felt welcome here, at least in the twentieth century.  My great grandma lived to be 101, adored Tommy Frazier and cheered for him regularly, but called him "that colored boy." 

      The latest trend of taking a knee during the National Anthem has the country in a tizzy. Twitter feeds and media personnel firing off every which way.  Opinions, justification and the latest sound byte are setting the online American world on fire. So to you young men, who took a knee at Saturday's game, I plead, let the taking of a knee be the very public, first step in a lifetime of very important work.

  I cannot, really at all, relate to the struggle of the black community. Pretending otherwise would be dishonest and disrespectful. So I have thus far kept quiet in the conversation about racial inequality; a listener and a learner rather than a teacher or preacher. My life experience with race thus far has been my white privilege - which I understand as basically the last five generations of my white family being able to live the American dream, mostly unhindered as long as they worked hard and made good choices.  The American education system and economy rewarded their sweat.  I have been ignorant to the struggle of those different from me. Partly because of my geography, partly because I haven't asked. For my years of ignorance and indifference, I'm sorry.

Michael, I recently watched your press conference and was I was proud of you, even if I didn't agree with you completely.  Your words about your love for the US and those who serve it were truthful, humble and direct.

I also have the utmost respect and gratitude for the military community and police families who are hurt by the athletes who kneel. They are people who have made tough sacrifices.  Perhaps they have sacrificed their own blood, or lost loved ones or friends.  Perhaps they just sacrificed years of their lives instead of chasing their own dreams.  I have close friends who are wives and mothers of those who serve.  They live through restless nights and loneliness while their spouses protect the United States, overseas and in my neighborhood. I honor you and I'm grateful. The problem is, that while our military protects a great nation, they also protect a complicated one. 

Healing race relations is a necessary fight. It is a fight to protect human rights and basic dignity. A fight to protect humanity itself.  

In addition to being white, I am also a Christian who believes in evangelizing the world.  Not the kind who will shame you for being gay or a different religion. The kind of Christ-follower who has been transformed, slowly and painfully, to see the oppression around me and been instructed to do the work of setting people free.

Jesus calls me to take care of those in need, so I also see my demographics as a responsibility to speak out for others and not be quiet when I see injustice. Not out of pity. Not out of white guilt. But out of love and compassion for fellow humans. If sometimes my motives are patronizing, be patient with me and educate me. I'm a work in progress.

    I see the evidence of the unfair systems in our country.  From the justice system, to the prejudices of some of those who enforce the laws, to the subtle layers passed on to each next generation from a parent's bad experience or education.  Sometimes these layers of racism are deep under good intentions and resolution to do better, sometimes they are not so hidden.  The recent resurgence of discussions about racial tensions have been interesting - sometimes peeling back those layers and revealing prejudice.  Sometimes ignorance.  Sometimes indifference.  Sometimes providing opportunities for individuals to speak out and show compassion and build bridges for unity.  I have learned much from following writers and athletes like Benjamin Watson, and now Michael Rose-Ivey.

     I simultaneously salute the specific men and women in blue for their work to protect my family, my kids' school, and my community.  Police officers and their spouses are my friends and neighbors, my church family and fellow PTO members. So I do not point fingers or engage in malicious talk about you as a people group. However, I also zoom out to see centuries of prejudice passed down: racism-  inherited, repackaged and still as ugly as ever. I see the disadvantage for people of color-in the economy, in the courtroom, in the streets.  Perhaps not in my community, but if I look beyond the media and look at the demographics of those in gangs, in prison, and in poverty,  the proportions alone are enough to make me wake up and take notice.

  

    I refuse to pretend it's not happening. I refuse to criticize people of color who have simply had enough, especially those who are protesting it peacefully. I am confused by those who point out how blessed these protestors are (millionaires, scholarship recipients, etc.) and ask what do they have to be complaining about? After the press conference where I got to see Mr. Rose-Ivey explain himself, I hear him saying this:  he considers himself a blessed man who has been afforded many opportunities; and he will not waste the opportunity he's been given to protest the big, centuries-old and thickly-infected justice system.  He and his teammates are done doing nothing about it.

       To my Huskers Michael Rose-Ivy, DaiShom Neal and Mohamed Barry-I don't love that you knelt during the Anthem. I will always stand.  But what I HATE are the disgusting responses of the people who call themselves Husker fans. I beg you to ignore a few outliers while the mass majority of your fan base respects you, regardless of whether they agree with you.  

     
         I appreciate your activism and the fact that you give a damn.  I am proud that you refuse to waste the opportunity and the platform-specifically Tom Osborne field and the Cornhusker fan base that comes with it-that you have been given.  And while we are all really hoping that the Huskers have a great strategy to win big conference games this season, I'm hoping even more that the Nebraska football program continues to produce leaders who will change their generation for the better.

You are Huskers. You are Americans. 

        You have Husker nation behind you. People who love you and adore you and will sell out the stadium to cheer until they are hoarse for you 350 games (and counting) in a row. People who will travel across the nation to be there for you, win or lose, rain or shine.

       You are part of a smaller nation, who loves you on and off the field, for the content of your character rather than the color of your skin. We don't do it perfectly, but sometimes we do it well. This weekend, the comments of a few have left an ugly stain, but guard your hearts against them-because they are not my voice. They are not the heart of Husker Nation.  We are proud of our athletes of any race or religion when you practice good sportsmanship, when you honor your opponents, when you volunteer off the field, when you make sick kids smile (thanks Rex Burkhead), or toss the football to my boys outside the Athletic offices (thanks Kenny Bell). There are countless other Huskers who have also used the platform well. We are proud of you when you fight for what you believe in.

      So don't let your protest stop with taking a knee. Let your protest continue by investing in individuals- black and white people of your generation and the next one.  People who will see black men who are not only athletes, but who show up and display integrity and leadership, hard work and dedication to problems in their communities. Show young people of color with big obstacles in life that they can and will overcome, just as you can and will overcome the ugliness recently thrown your way. Show young white people whose parents are sending them poor messages-we disprove everything you've been told about people of color.  I don't know you young men; so if you're already doing this, thank you- and please don't ever stop.

      Investing in individuals and showing them who you are and what you're about-is not always as flashy or loud as amassing passionate Twitter followers.  You'll probably continue to be misunderstood, and you will rarely have the opportunity to eloquently explain yourself in a press-conference. Many times you won't get a bit of attention for your service, except from your own proud mama. But - this quiet, serving attitude - it's effective. 

       Be young men who not only say with their mouths and knees, we've had enough, but also move their hands and feet and take the time to show up in schools and hospitals and communities to change minds. Take the time to listen, and tell your stories and convictions to classmates or dorm neighbors who are willing to listen. Keep going, don't lose heart. What you're doing is important, life changing work.   

Don't be content with lighting Twitter on fire. A hot fire that burns for but a moment and then dies.

Light your generation on fire and let it burn slow. It's time for us to wake up and pay attention to what needs to burn away and leave us behind-refined.