My Initial Email to Cousin Elizabeth (4)

By W. F. Twyman, Jr.

Oddly enough, the Coates display energized me. Surely, millions of white and black Americans see something in Coates. The overhang of White Supremacy must be suffocating. I am now downright convinced White Supremacy will oppress me before day’s end.

I continued my Hunt for White Supremacy.

Another white male enters the library. Nothing. Another and another. Same non-story.

To while away the hours while my daughter studied AP Euro History, I began reading Out of America: A Black Man Confronts Africa by Keith Richburg. Richburg’s book had been recommended to me by a reader of one of my published opinions. Of course, my daughter was ready to go as I savored Chapter 1. Since my wife was sick in bed with a bad cold, my daughter and I decided to bring home dinner from Noodle & Company, one of my daughter’s new discoveries. I saw a USD police car and prepared for a “Hands Up Don’t Shoot” moment. I was sorely disappointed as the officer paid me no mind. I saw a second police car and, once again, no police brutality to speak of. Not even a ticket. This was not going well at all. We ordered our pasta dishes and I observed a one-armed white man who appeared to be employed and a two-armed homeless black man. And as we drove home and talked about Mom sick in bed, I forgot about police cars and my search for White Supremacy.

My daughter stressing AP Euro History on a Sunday afternoon is a Thing. My wife sick in bed with a bad cold is a Thing. But as for White Supremacy? Is that a Thing today? I think not.

Time is running out for a better understanding. Life is short. One could walk to work one day and get hit by a bus. That happened to me. I was two steps from death. Gene Twyman, a masterful guru of all things Twyman, passed away in 2012. My favorite uncle, Robert Daniel Twyman, passed away a few years ago. My Best Man and Beloved Cousin’s brother, Bruce, passed two years ago. His civic minded wife, Elaine Twyman, passed away a few years before Bruce. Shelby’s husband died on Thanksgiving. My distant cousin, Bill Twyman, whom I met for the first time in October, died yesterday. Are we going to squander our remaining time on division? Will our Creator look kindly on us if we continue to build walls between one another? What will it take for cousins to see ourselves in each other?

We do not dismantle prejudice with a drumbeat of white privilege. These drumbeats lead nowhere. They are a detour, a cul-de-sac. We dismantle prejudice one cousin at a time, one Twyman at a time. We do not need more Black Lives Matter activists to protest God knows what. We need more John Lennons who can imagine the Coming of a Better Time.

[To be continued…]