Running on the longest day... to shed light on the Sin of Racism

On May 21st, I posted this on my Facebook page:

I’m doing this thing, a month from today, during the solstice.

There will be daylight. A lot of it. ☀️ 

There will be running. A lot of it. 🏃 

There will be praying. A lot of it. 🙏 

You can join me. Some of you. A lot of you. All of you. 

From wherever you are. For part of it. Or all of it.

Join me in praying. Join me in running. Join me in praying while running or running while praying. You can also go walking or biking.

It’s up to you.

It’ll be fun. Stay tuned!

These words came out of a deep, almost unexplainable desire to do a long run during the Summer Solstice. Maybe it was partly the lack of running events to sign-up for due to cancellations related to the pandemic and the virtual ones really don't suit my taste.

Those who know me, know that I run as a spiritual practice and so on a much deeper level, the desire to run during the longest day of the year had something to do with COVID 19 and a desire to offer a prayer that God would give us light to guide us through the dark days of illness and uncertainty.

On May 21st, I knew I was going to run on the solstice. I knew it was going to be a prayer run. I thought it was going to be about COVID. I was already sketching plans.

And then on May 25th, George Floyd, an African American man was killed in Minneapolis by a police officer who had arrested him for allegedly using a counterfeit bill. Floyd died pinned to the ground by the officer's knee on his neck for 8 minutes and 46 seconds, amidst Floyd's crying "I can't breathe," and the crowd of bystanders pleas for the police to stop. He was 46. 

The senseless killing of George Floyd, and that of fellow African Americans Ahmaud Arbery in February and Breonna Taylor in March, have brought to a boil a season of nationwide protests demanding justice and calling for an end to the systemic racism that continues to plague this country. Protests in different forms continue to this day.

Personally, the deaths of George, Ahmaud and Breonna have also caused a boil, deep in my soul.

• I am an immigrant and a person of color leading a conference (regional body) of a predominantly white denomination, The United Methodist Church, that, just like the United States, also continues to struggle with systemic racism and white privilege even within its doors. How is God calling me to lead during this time?
• I am a Filipino struggling with my culture's own racism and anti-blackness embedded into our worldview by centuries of colonization. I am facing the hard reality that I was brought up to see the world through the lens of whiteness: that beauty is defined by fair complexion, straight hair, high noses, round eyes and thin lips; and on a deeper level, that whiteness equals superiority. How do I confess my own complicity and pass on a better, more just culture and worldview to my children?
• I am an Asian and I am deeply disturbed that one of the police officers who stood guard while George Floyd helplessly died under his colleagues' knee was a person of Asian descent. I am now painfully learning of the concept of Asians being "the model minority". How do I break from this mold and sense of privilege and help change this mindset in fellow Asians?
• I, too, have experienced racism - some overt, some covert and some I didn't even realize were racist acts because of my colonized worldview until someone helped point them out. And yes, sadly, some of these experiences were within contexts of church ministry. How do I stand in solidarity with my Black siblings during this time and not minimize their struggle by projecting my own?
• I am a Christian and express my faith in the United Methodist tradition. One of my baptismal vows is "to resist evil, injustice and oppression in whatever forms they present themselves." How do I faithfully live out my baptism during this time?

To borrow the words from a beloved colleague and friend, I realize that in this issue of racism, "I have a lot to learn and unlearn."

In an op-ed piece for the LA Times, the NBA's all-time leading scorer and Presidential Medal of Freedom recipient Kareem Abdul-Jabbar wrote, "Racism in America is like dust in the air. It seems invisible — even if you’re choking on it — until you let the sun in. Then you see it’s everywhere. As long as we keep shining that light, we have a chance of cleaning it wherever it lands. But we have to stay vigilant, because it’s always still in the air."

And so my solstice run will now be a prayer against the sin of racism. I will be running on the longest day when, where I live in Eagle River, Alaska, we will be having almost 20 hours of daylight and the rest is civil twilight. In other words, there will be light all the time and I will run with the prayer that God would shed light on the sin of racism, beginning in my own heart and mind.

Starting at 2 pm Alaska Time today, June 19, I plan to run 2 miles every hour for 24 hours here in our neighborhood and ending my last run tomorrow, June 20 at 1:43 pm - the midpoint of the longest day here in Anchorage. Before every run, I will be going live on my Facebook page to share an update or a reflection.

Join me. Share prayers. Share your own thoughts and struggles. Pray with me. Run or walk or bike or swim or dance with me, virtually, wherever you are. On this longest day of the year in the Northern Hemisphere when there is daylight almost all-day where I live, let us pray that God would shed light on the sin of racism in our own lives and move us to confession and change. May God also shed light on the ways God is calling us to bring about change and justice in our world.

To my Black siblings, I confess that I have a lot to learn and my own complicity in your oppression. I am so sorry. Please accept this run as my apology, my act of solidarity with you and your struggle and my personal act of protest against systemic racism. This isn't about me. This isn't about ultra running. This is about you, because your lives matter. Yes, Black Lives Matter.

Your fellow disciple,

carlo