Assault in the Academia: My Meeting at RCA, Part 6

Assault in the Academia: My Meeting at RCA, Part 6 February 18, 2014
R3 Editor


Read the series here

After sending my response, my assailant responded by sending an email to members of the Religious Communication Association (RCA) on our listserve. In the email, he apologized not only to me but also to the members of our Association. In this apology, he claimed his “inappropriate action” during the meeting, recognized it as “presumptuous” and “deeply regretted his action.” He closed by acknowledging his apology in private to me but found it “appropriate and necessary” to offer a “public confession” to me and the membership of RCA. After sending the email on our listserve, he also again sent me an apology and then stated that he hoped that the email to the group was at least a “first step” to reconciliation, but understood that it would “take some time.”
I then talked with RCA officials. They too offered apologies, words of comfort, reassurance, and confession. As I read the emails again, as I played the apologies that I heard in my mind again and again, as I reflected on how angry and hurtful I was; I also began to feel something else. As time went on and as I wrote out my feelings and as I shared this story with others, I began to feel like……dare I say it…….forgiving him and to a lesser degree, some of the members (at least the ones who saw what happened and said nothing) of RCA.
Wait a minute…..I wanted to be mad! I wanted to be angry! I wanted folks to know what happened and I want to shout it from the rooftops. I wanted to write about microaggressionsand engage in some Critical Race Theory. I wanted to talk about RCA’s reputation and the reason why scholars of color stay away from them. I wanted to analyze and examine scholarship within religious communication and note the overwhelming “whiteness” that permeates through the discipline. I wanted to be angry, I wanted to be mad; I wanted to yell and scream; and yes, I wanted to be angry. I wanted to share other folks stories about their abuses at academic conferences—both physical and verbally. I wanted to do this—and do it loudly—but for my own situation, about my slight and my plight, forgiveness was in order. This I do know.
Yeah, I still want to be angry, but I do know that my anger will turn quickly into bitterness and that will not be good for me. It would only stifle my creativity, my scholarship, and my own growth and development. It would make me a less effective pastor and a less able preacher. It would hurt my own relationships—relationships with my wife and others who I care about and affirm and the ones who love me. I know this, I feel this, I understand this, I preach and teach this, but—I still want to be angry.
However, as I reflected on what happened that day, something else came to the forefront. There was a reason why I wanted to stay angry—and that reason has more to do with me than with my assailant or others in that room that did nothing. The reason for my anger was that I thought I should have done something. I thought my response was inadequate. I just let it go and no matter how many people told me they admired me; no matter how many people praise me for my calmness; no matter how many people applauded my non-violent approach to the matter; no matter how many people said they wished they had my restraint, I still thought I should have done something.

Nevertheless, as I continued to go down this road, something else came to me. This something else reminded me that I did indeed do something. Yes, I believed and still believe today that if I had responded violently (physically) to my assailant, I would have been the scapegoat, the problem, the thug, and/or the issue. Moreover, security more than likely would have detained me and I would have risked arrest and seen through the eyes of many throughout the conference as that “wild big black man” (or some other word). In this day and age, I could have been also shot! Even if I would have responded verbally in a loud and angry voice or heavens forbid, curse (as I was doing in my mind), I would have forever been labeled as “hard to deal with,” he’s too sensitive” and other labels that come after an African American express how she or he really feels about something.  
I however, did do something. I reclaimed my agency and decided not to respond that way I may have wanted to respond. While I cannot stop people from doing harm to me, I can decide how I want to respond—and the way I decided to respond was to walk away. I reconciled within myself that it was not a weak move, but the better move. The move best empowered me to reclaim my own agency — to do things the way I wanted and to decide how I would respond. In short, I am strong only because I decided how I would respond and the only way for me to do this was by the grace of God.
In addition to sharing the incident with the officials of NCA and RCA, I also decided to share the incident with others through the series of blog posts. I decided to share this incident for two reasons. First, while I do believe in forgiveness, I do not believe in cheap grace. In order to forgive, one must understand what sh

e or he did which I hope these blog posts acknowledges. Second, in my talks with officials from RCA, we both hoped that this could be the proverbial “teaching moment.” This year, NCA will celebrate 100 years of service and RCA will celebrate its 40th year. I think it would be a good time to offer reflections on race and diversity issues. Let us see how far we have really come—but also, let us be truthful with one another and recognize that if assaults on a person’s body still happens, well, we have not come that far. I would like to be a part of those conversations—and yes, I will bring my testimony and experiences within the academy to the table.

So yes, I do forgive my assailant and members of the RCA who stood by and did or said nothing. I do forgive the people who implied that I did something wrong to receive a slap on the head. I do forgive the folks who spoke to me afterwards about everything else but about my assailant and his assault. I do forgive members who I have not heard from after my assailant sent an email out on the listserve. I would have thought by now someone would have reached out to me at least asking what happened and apologizing for the oversight.
So yes, I do forgive—but I do not forget. Forgiveness is not forgetting. Indeed, part of forgiveness is remembering—because one cannot forgive unless one remembers the action the prompts one’s forgiveness. Therefore, I do not forget. 

I do not forget what happened on Friday afternoon, November 22, 2013, in the business meeting of the Religious Communication Association—I do not forget. I do not forget my assailant’s feeble and hackneyed attempts at an apology right after the incident—I do not forget. I do not forget the frustration and anger I felt after the incident and how I continued to feel throughout that day—I do not forget. I do not forget the many times I played this incident in my head over and over—questioning at times the very essence of who I thought I was—I do not forget. 

Therefore, yes—I do forgive, but I do not forget. It is in my remembering that I gain the power to forgive and the power to continue my work with RCA. Therefore, yes, I look forward to returning to RCA with this newfound spirit and by the grace of God, I will be able to handle whatever one throws my way—always remembering, not forgetting, in order to forgive.

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