WE HAVE A DREAM.

A parish learns six lessons as it struggles toward racial healing

COLETTE OLDHAM, A 16-YEAR-OLD MEMBER OF ST. Vincent de Paul Church in Philadelphia, attends a private high school that is predominantly white. As a white teen from the suburbs, Oldham never had an opportunity to meet African Americans her own age, let alone become friends with them.

In October 1999, Oldham joined Youth Against Racism, a young people's group formed as part of St. Vincent's continuing racial healing process. Working with a trained psychologist, Youth Against Racism places teens--black, white, and Hispanic--into a single group and pushes them to talk about racism and prejudice. Oldham recalls how difficult it was at the beginning: "I was very careful because I didn't want anyone to say, `How can she say something like that.'"

Oldham now has friends such as Sheena Rogers, a black 16-year-old from the inner city. Without Youth Against Racism, both say they might never have met. In the group, says Rogers, "everybody got to see each other as equals. We realized we judged people when we didn't know them." The teens have joined in activities to combat racism, including leading another teen group in discussions on the subject.

"Little things can create a domino effect," says Oldham. "Even if we change one person's mind, that's one person less who's a racist."

What a little organizing can do

Many things can crack the common ground among Catholics: differences in theology, fights over religious practice, strong opinions about gender roles or the liturgy, to name a few.

Tensions between the races, especially between blacks and whites, also can split open the ground on which Catholics stand. This is true even among people who share the same worshiping community and beliefs. Since 1997, parishioners at St. Vincent de Paul have joined in a parishwide racial healing process and learned that creative organizing, backed by prayer, love, and faith, can create powerful energies to confront and begin to cast out the ugly demon of racism.

Founded in 1851, St. Vincent is located in Germantown, a poor and working-class section of Philadelphia whose population is more than 85 percent black. St. Vincent's membership, however, is 85 percent white. One of the main reasons for this disparity is the history of racial prejudice and discrimination, both locally and nationally, in the Catholic Church.

As was true at other parishes, for many decades black Catholics were not made to feel welcome at St. Vincent. Similarly, few Catholics greeted or supported blacks who moved into the neighborhood. Instead, blacks were met with hostility. Rocks were thrown through their windows; their children could not attend the segregated parish school.

In 1912, when black children were forced to stand at the end of the line to receive First Communion, disheartened black members, with the help of Mother Katharine Drexel, petitioned for and founded their own church, St. Catherine of Siena. When the archdiocese closed St. Catherine in 1993, the wound black Catholics received in 1912 only deepened, creating suspicion and resentment that has lasted to this day.

Ironically, another reason for the disparity between the racial makeup of the neighborhood and the parish is St. Vincent's reputation as a parish on fire with the spirit of Vatican II. With its emphasis on renewal of the liturgy, lay participation, service to the poor, and commitment to peace and justice, it has become a magnet parish, drawing its 1,500 members from 70 different zip codes in the Philadelphia metropolitan area.

Many new parishioners come from the suburbs and are white. Today, black membership at St. Vincent is slowly growing, but given its history of racism and magnetic attraction for white Catholics, it is no wonder that black Catholics are in the minority. As parishioners actively working to create a more racially aware St. Vincent, we have learned some important lessons on how to create community from our differences.

Lesson 1: Know what you want and say it clearly

For years an interracial group in the parish, known as the African American Leadership Ministry (AALM), has kept the concerns of people of color before the parish community. But our workshops and speakers on race relations reached only a small portion of St. Vincent's large membership.

Wanting to create a wider impact, in early 1997, the AALM sent a detailed proposal to the parish council and staff, outlining a long-term process for racial healing. We envisioned St. Vincent as a place where everyone would find a safe environment to examine and overcome their prejudices, where people who suffer from racial prejudice would feel welcome and find solidarity in their struggle.

We rooted our proposal in Catholic theology and social teaching and detailed the steps we believed would move the parish toward our goal. After some small changes, the council and staff gave their approval and asked us to carry it out.

We will never forget the meeting when we first realized what we had gotten ourselves into. We had planned occasional speakers and workshops in the past, but this would take an enormous commitment of time and energy. We held hands around our meeting table and prayed hard for the wisdom and strength to see this through.

Thus we learned our first lesson: how important it is to know what you want and to articulate it clearly. In addition, we needed the patience to enter into a dialogue with the parish leadership and the humility to accept valid proposals for change. Just as vital is commitment--taking responsibility to set the process in motion and to make it happen. Most important of all, we learned to ask for God's help all the way along.

Lesson 2: Chaos can be a step on the road to true community

When we started off, our AALM group decided to meet together for a retreat, believing that we should try out the process ourselves before introducing it to the parish.

The retreat was, to put it mildly, a disaster. White and black members realized that some of their views were miles apart. White participants said things that came across to blacks as expressions of unconscious racism. At times, white members angered black participants by appearing to dismiss their views casually: "How can you be sure the store detective was being racist when he followed you around?"

On the other hand, some white members were taken aback by the anger and vehemence with which certain black members spoke. At the planned "celebration" dinner after the retreat, we sat in stony silence or tried desperately to make polite conversation.

In the week following the retreat, many members of our ministry, both black and white, decided that it would be too painful to continue to work together. Rumors of resignations flew. Then someone recalled a handout from a previous diversity workshop on the three basic stages in the development of community and collaboration across racial lines.

The first stage is superficial pseudo-community--polite "niceness," where no one steps on anyone's toes or raises difficult issues. At this point, people want to avoid conflict or the perception that they are prejudiced or overly angry.

Stage two is chaos and emptiness, which ensues when people decide to break through the superficiality and face the real issues that racism raises. Conflict emerges. People get angry and fearful. Many feel that they are going backward, away from a loving community. The problems raised seem overwhelming or unsolvable.

But if people can hang on through the chaos stage, examine themselves, share their fears and vulnerabilities, admit their prejudices, and express a willingness to change and speak the truth in love, chaos can give way to stage three: real community.

As we reminded each other of these stages, we began to realize, "Hey, we're making progress. We're right where we should be, in the chaos stage." We met again, prayed together, committed to one another, and went forward.

The lesson that chaos can lead to real community carried over into our broader work with parishioners. It brought hope--and humor--to what might have been despair. It also encouraged us to add retreats, potlucks, and other social activities to our schedule of regular AALM meetings, so we could get to know one another more deeply. In addition, we learned how important it is to draw upon the expertise of nonparishioners with experience in diversity training, conflict resolution, and the like.

Lesson 3: Personalize the message

The Sunday we kicked off the racial healing process at St. Vincent, our priests gave homilies on racial justice and reconciliation at each Mass. After the homilies, AALM members spoke of their own experiences of racism.

The black team members, whom most people at Mass knew at least by sight, described the realities of racism and its painful, limiting impact. The white speakers, rather than presenting themselves as great fighters for racial justice, admitted their own racial prejudices, how bias was ingrained in them at an early age, and how the stereotyping "tapes" still play in their heads. They also shared what was motivating them to move beyond guilt, to overcome their own racism, and to join the struggle for justice and healing.

Because we personalized the message, these talks had a great impact on parishioners. After hearing the black speakers, it was hard for anyone to pretend that racism no longer exists or that Christians have no obligation to fight it. The white speakers' humility and admission of their own racism made it possible for many white listeners to say, "I don't have to pretend that I'm free of prejudice; maybe I can bring my prejudice out into the light and be part of a movement to eliminate racism."

As worshipers left church that day, AALM members greeted them warmly at each door and handed them articles on race relations. We also set up a permanent literature table with copies of articles and materials on racial justice and healing.

Lesson 4: Engage the parish

Had our team appeared to know all the answers, that might have been the end of our impact on the parish. Instead, we tried to draw parishioners into the process. Rather than judging them or making them feel guilty, we approached parishioners with love and, at the same time, we sought to educate and challenge them with the best materials we could find on racism and how to overcome it. We found ways to make their opinions count.

Our team sent out a questionnaire asking every parishioner: (1) What are we currently doing pretty well in the parish to create racial healing? (2) What more can we do to deepen racial healing?

Answers to the questionnaire, which were presented to the entire parish, revealed parishioners' strong interest in being part of small groups. These groups would be places where they would feel safe enough to honestly discuss the issue of racism and what to do about it.

Lesson 5: Create "safe spaces" where healing can happen

Our ministry took on the challenge of organizing those small groups. One member, with help from the team and outside experts, worked for weeks to develop a guidebook that outlined a small-group process to probe racism. The team also trained small-group facilitators, realizing that the groups could become bogged down if left entirely on their own.

Our ministry soon saw how important it was to create well-organized and skillfully facilitated "safe spaces" where parishioners could delve deeper into racial healing. The results were little short of amazing. Thirty small groups formed with 128 parishioners participating. As the groups got going, ripples spread out to others as the 128 shared their insights from group discussions and exercises.

Perhaps the greatest lesson was for white participants who, often for the first time, grasped that American racism has conveyed to them unearned white privilege.

"Racism had seemed nebulous to me before," says white parishioner Carroll Clay, "but the process gave me a much more concrete understanding, especially about `white privilege' and how it impacts everything." Her husband, Joe, says that he learned for the first time about systemic racism and how it benefits white people. During the process, the Clays moved from their predominantly white suburban community to a thoroughly integrated city neighborhood.

Lesson 6: Don't limit your commitment

In early 1998, our diocesan bishop, Cardinal Anthony Bevilacqua, put out a forceful pastoral letter, Healing Racism Through Faith and Truth, that named racism a sin and contagious moral disease that can and must be eradicated. Bevilacqua called upon all Catholics to "renew our efforts to end the evil of racism." This letter provided a fitting prelude to the next stage of our racial healing process: making a long-term commitment.

The time line of our initial proposal outlined a two-year process plus some follow-up. (Church members are accustomed to such time-limited programs, after which we move on to something else.) As we confronted the sin of racism, however, we came to see that a short program could not expect to bring justice and healing.

On a Sunday in the spring of 1998, our pastor, Father Aidan Rooney, C.M., announced from the pulpit that addressing racism is a long-term process. In fact, he said, it is part of our very identity as Christians.

Racism in the post-civil-rights-movement era has taken a more cunning form. Its demonic power has transformed into more subtle shapes than at the time when colored drinking fountain signs abounded. This makes it more difficult to eliminate, though no less urgent. It underlines the importance of providing parishioners with well-written information and words of encouragement to recognize and combat the new forms racism has taken.

We know we are nowhere near the end of our racial healing process. At least one parishioner has gone to another parish because of objections to what St. Vincent is doing. Some of our white parishioners are still blissfully unaware of (or try to overlook) today's racism and the maddening frustrations people of color still face. Others, used to time-limited programs, keep asking, "When will this be over?"

At an even deeper level, some parishioners, whom we all regard as good people, just don't get it.

"I'm not prejudiced," they say, "I wasn't around during slavery. I'm not responsible for racism. I don't see any need to get involved." We are still perplexed about how to reach these people. How can we help them become aware of their prejudices? How can we help them see that it is not enough to be just a good person, a nonracist? You must be actively antiracist if racism is ever to be overcome.

Some of our white parishioners have recognized their prejudices and unearned white privilege, but this recognition has made them feel guilty and immobilized. Maybe we can help them develop a new and positive antiracist self-image. This image, while renouncing unjust white privilege, uses the power they have to side with people of color as they struggle for equality. It's a great journey, but we have a long way to go.

Ten years from now ...

To create a vision statement for the parish, parishioners were asked: "Imagine being absent from St. Vincent for 10 years, then returning. What might the parish and its membership look like if we had really moved forward on racial healing?" Here are some excerpts:

* As we walk into the church, we immediately notice that the inside of the church has changed. A beautiful statue of Our Lady of Guadalupe occupies one corner. A large banner of Saint Peter Claver hangs from the wall to the right of the altar. Another large banner to the left shows saints from Ireland, Italy, and other paris of Europe. A similar space is dedicated to Asian saints and martyrs. A statue of Blessed Kateri Tekakwitha stands in a niche. As we look up at the murals on the ceiling, we see cherubs and other figures whose faces and skin colors clearly reflect diverse racial and ethnic identities. A processional cross with a black corpus stands on the altar.

* At the end of Mass, a member of the parish council speaks to the assembly, reading from a list of probing questions on how the parish is working to overcome racism. We learn that this is part of a regular, parishwide "examination of conscience," which keeps before the parish its fidelity to racial healing, as well as its other commitments.

* White parishioners are turning to people of color in the parish to test their own perceptions and ideas and to learn how to build relationships and address racism. Parishioners who are people of color are feeling freer to share their lives with white parishioners.

* It is not unusual to find parishioners participating in nonviolent demonstrations against racial profiling, death penalty inequities, or police brutality against blacks and Latinos. White parishioners are coming to see themselves as allies with people of color in the struggle against racism.

THE HEALING PROCESS GOES ON

Racial healing at St. Vincent has sparked many other initiatives. They include:

* Priests mention racism in some way in nearly every homily.

* Liturgy includes the cadences of spirituals and gospel music.

* Educational materials on racism are used in children's Sunday classes.

* A permanent column in the parish bulletin: "What can I do for racial healing?"

* More multicultural "visuals" (art, banners, statuary, and so on) inside the church.

* A $5 million campaign to restore an ancient parish hall to make it useful for both the parish and neighborhood.

* A recent collaboration with a local Jewish synagogue. The combined group traveled to Mississippi to help rebuild a black church that had been burned to the ground by arsonists.

* Sessions of the workshop "White people working on racism."

* Letters by parishioners to protest racial disparities in the city's criminal justice system.

* A long-term "apostolate of listening" to reach out to black Catholics hurt by the tragic events surrounding the historic St. Catherine of Siena Church.

* An interracial book club, theater group, and movie club.

* A viewing of The Color of Fear, a challenging film on race relations, followed by a workshop (with AALM-trained facilitators).

* Reaching out to other churches, both Protestant and Catholic, who have expressed interest in starting their own racial healing process.

An earlier and different version of this article appeared in Initiative Report, the newsletter of the Catholic Common Ground Initiative.

RICHARD K. TAYLOR, with the assistance of LA VONNE FRANCE. Taylor and France cochair the African American Leadership Ministry of St. Vincent de Paul Church in Philadelphia. Taylor is the parish coordinator of ministry development; France, a parish member, is a poet and professional chemist.