Category: Race and Diversity

A favorite memory was the night I heard Victoria tell me her story of growing up in Soviet Ukraine.

Victoria was a wonderful co-worker at Haven of Peace Academy. So when she sat across from me at a staff dinner at an outdoor restaurant, in the dimming evening light, I asked her to tell me about her childhood under Communism.

What was it like growing up in the Soviet Union? I asked. And I sat spellbound as she talked about a carefree childhood where the children could roam freely, because there was very little crime. However, she said, there were also times when neighbors would disappear in the night, never to be seen or heard from again.

She talked about her Christian grandmother, who secretly told her about God and gave her a cross pendant to wear under her school uniform. One day a teacher found it, and forced the seven-year-old Victoria to stand in front of the entire school and stomp on that cross.

What Your Grandmother’s Piano Had to Do With Slavery in Zanzibar

By Amy Medina

On January 12, 2020

In How Americans Think, Race and Diversity

In Victorian America, having a piano in your home was a sign of being cultured, sophisticated, and educated. Ironically, the story behind those pianos was one of slavery, oppression, and death.

“By 1900 more than half of the world’s pianos were made in the United States. In 1910, piano production in the United States was growing at a rate six times faster than the population.” (1) Yet before the advent of plastic, what was essential for piano production? Ivory. Ivory from East African elephants.

Just over 100 years ago, there existed a unique connection between Victorian New England and Zanzibar, which is a large inhabited island just off the coast of what is now known as Tanzania. America wanted ivory. Africa had elephants. And the port where thousands of tusks funneled through was on the island of Zanzibar.

Most of that ivory ended up in Connecticut, at a manufacturing village appropriately called “Ivoryton,” which milled an estimated 100,000 elephant tusks before 1929. At the industry’s height, over 350,000 pianos were sold each year. (2)

I’ve lived in Tanzania for sixteen years, and visited Zanzibar many times, and I never knew this until I recently explored the new museum attached to David Livingstone’s church. I knew that Zanzibar was home to a massive slave industry in the 19th century; I knew that missionary David Livingstonewas instrumental in ending that slave trade. Many times, I have visited the church he had built on the site of the slave market, with the altar placed strategically on the spot where slaves had been tied up and whipped.

But all this time, I didn’t know there was a connection between East African slavery and America, because most American slaves came from West Africa. (East African slaves were usually sent to Arab countries and colonial British plantations.) Yet the Connecticut ivory industry fueled a large part of East African slavery. Each of those 100 pound tusks had to be carried, by hand, for hundreds of miles from the African interior. The journey was so grueling, and the slave drivers so cruel, that David Livingstone once estimated that 5 slaves died for every tusk.

We all know about slaves coming out of Africa. What I have also recently learned, both through reading about the rubber trade in Congo and now the ivory trade in Tanzania, was that hundreds of thousands of Africans were enslaved in their own homeland. Though it is certainly fair to say that most of these people were captured, owned, and sold by their fellow Africans, it was the the insatiable desire for Africa’s resources by Europeans and Americans that fueled the demand for doing business in human souls.

I imagine early 20th century Americans, gathering around their new pianos in their prim and proper Victorian parlors, gaily singing Christmas carols while the snow silently falls outside. It’s the quintessential American picture, is it not?

Yet what was the cost of that picture-perfect scene? I haven’t mentioned the mass destruction and near extinction of African elephants–which is a tragedy in and of itself. But even more tragic was that those pianos were built on the backs of suffering and death of countless African men, women, and children.

Did average Americans know this at the time? Probably not. But thinking about this tragedy made me contemplate what this generation of Americans does know. We’ve all heard the reports, right? Our cocoa and coffee harvested by children in developing countries, the profit from the tantalum in our cell phones used to fuel civil wars in Africa, designer clothes created by near-slave-like conditions in Bangladesh or India. So many of the comforts around us were built on the backs of someone else’s suffering.

What do we do about it? I hear you asking. And honestly, I don’t know. The problem is incredibly complicated. I don’t have answers.

Yet, knowing these things is still good for our souls. This knowledge should humble us, convict us, make us wiser. It should help us to be more careful in what we buy. More aware. More generous. More grateful.

The Anglican church in Zanzibar which was inspired by David Livingstone’s fight to end slavery on the island. The church is built on the site of the main slave market.

Under the church, two holding chambers have been preserved. Each of these chambers would hold up to 50 slaves at a time, waiting for sale.

“This crucifix [is] made from the wood of the tree under which Dr. Livingstone died at Chitambo village, Ilala, Zambia in 1873, and under which his heart [is] buried.”

My sources for this article came from the museum at Livingstone’s church, as well as these two sites:

(1) Connecticut Explored: Ivoryton

(2) Ivory Cutting: The Rise and Decline of a Connecticut Industry

All pictures by Gil Medina.

Slavery and the Inequality We Continue to Ignore

By Amy Medina

On January 8, 2017

In Race and Diversity

It was eerie, really. I was reading about William Wilberforce’s fight to end the British slave trade, and I just couldn’t help but think that the language sounded exactly like today’s fight to end abortion.

Wilberforce was a politician who fought hard for almost 20 years in the British parliament to end the slave trade. His primary argument was in proving the humanity of slaves. And he based that argument on biblical principles.

This ticked off a lot of people. “One of [abolition’s] most dedicated opponents, Lord Melbourne, was outraged that Wilberforce dared inflict his Christian values about slavery and human equality on British society. ‘Things have come to a pretty pass,’ he famously thundered, ‘when one should permit one’s religion to invade public life.'”

Hmmm. Sounds familiar.

Wilberforce was certain that proving the equality of every kind of human life would ensure the abolition of slaves. In one impassioned speech he proclaimed, “I have already gained for the wretched Africans the recognition of their claim to the rank of human beings, and I doubt not but the Parliament of Great Britain will no longer withhold from them the rights of human nature!” But the fight was still years away from being won.

Even non-religious doctors and scientists will readily admit that an unborn child is a human life. It’s just not a person with equal rights. However, this assertion is not based on any kind of science, because no one can agree on when a fetus becomes a person other than when that fetus suddenly becomes wanted.

Think about it: The egg is not a human life. The sperm is not a human life. But when the two form an embryo, suddenly: Human Life. In fact, that Human Life can be formed in a test tube, frozen for a couple of years, and then placed in the womb of a non-biologically related woman, and yet what will happen to that embryo? In nine months it turns into a child. So if that embryo is not a Human Life, then what is?

Sometimes people accuse Christians of caring only about eliminating abortion, but not caring about the people those babies grow up to be. Of fixating on abortion and ignoring poverty, slavery, abuse, racism, and other forms of inequality. It’s a valid accusation, no doubt. Christians need to get their act together about other social injustice issues.

However–and this is a big however–I want to make the point that caring about social justice issues, but justifying abortion–well, that’s an enormous contradiction. Because if social justice is all about caring for the voiceless and the powerless….then how is it possible to ignore those human beings who are the most voiceless and powerless?

Either all people have value, or they don’t.

Either all people are equal, or they’re not.

It shouldn’t matter what they have to contribute to society, or how poor they are, or how disabled they are, how dependent they are, or how much of an inconvenience they are.

You can’t pick and choose.

In Wilberforce’s day, there was no general agreement about the equality of human beings. In fact, Wilberforce himself had a enormous part in helping western society come to that conclusion. We owe a lot to him. If it’s a no-brainer that slavery is wrong, that has a lot to do with Wilberforce. Yet much of our society is unwilling to consider how the exact same arguments apply to abortion.

Last week, WORLD magazine reported, “The Select Investigative Panel on Infant Lives released its final report today, calling for an overhaul to the abortion and fetal procurement industries, including defunding Planned Parenthood and a federal 20-week abortion ban.”

In the early 1800’s, Wilberforce pleaded, “Sir, the nature and the circumstances of this Trade are now laid open to us. We can no longer plead ignorance, we cannot evade it, it is not an object placed before us, we cannot pass it. We may spurn it, we may kick it out of the way, but we cannot turnaside so as to avoid seeing it. For it is brought now so directly before our eyes that this House must decide, and must justify to all the world, and to their own consciences…the principles of their decision. Let not Parliament be the only body that is insensible to national justice.” (Amazing Grace: William Wilberforce and the Heroic Campaign to End Slavery by Eric Metaxas)

The Black Girl on the Birthday Card….and Other Lessons on Race

By Amy Medina

On April 29, 2015

In Race and Diversity

I worry about screwing up my kids.

Maybe everyone has that worry, but I think I’ve got more reason to. My kids are Tanzanian by blood, growing up in Tanzania, but by American parents. Where will they fit? Will they be able to identify with Tanzanian culture? Will they be able to identify with American culture? I read the news and think, Will they be able to one day navigate African-American culture? I look at my skin color and think, Am I adequate to help them figure all of this out?

I’ve learned a few things by raising black kids. They’ve helped me see the world through their eyes. My daughter Grace received this birthday card from a friend earlier this year:

I’ve never seen my nine-year-old get so excited about a card before. “Look, Mommy!” she shouted. “This card has me on it! That’s me! How did they find a card with me on it?”

I didn’t have the heart to tell her that the drawing on the card really looks nothing like her. But in that brief exchange, my daughter taught me a whole lot about race. It only took brown skin and curly black hair for Grace to see herself. I’ve learned that Yes, it’s really important for kids to see themselves in movies, books, and billboards, whether they are black, white, Asian, or Hispanic. It’s a good thing that more of this is happening in our culture.

So in our house, we celebrate brown-ness and make sure it has a prominent place in our family’s culture. We love Gabby Douglas and Michaela DePrince. Our favorite movie right now is the new Annie (which makes me tear up every.single.time) and my kids even have a Daddy who went to the movie theater and asked to bring home the life-size cardboard cutout.

Being mom of black kids has made me notice the subtle superiority of white-ness in my own culture. Have you ever taken a close look at the make-up aisle in Walmart? Most department store mannequins? The color of standard band-aids? The color of Jesus in most Bible story books? How the color peach is often synonymous with skin-color?

Then I wonder, Is it really superiority that causes this? Or it is just that we are from a white-majority culture that tends to be clueless? I was recently bemoaning to Gil the lack of pre-teen chapter books that have dark-skinned main characters. But he gently reminded me that this might not be an issue of racial prejudice. It could just be that most authors are white, and people tend to write about what they know. Is that true? Or is there really a bias among publishers? It could be neither. Or both. But is it right to assume the worst?

It’s so complicated, isn’t it? We cannot deny that racism still exists in our society. We cannot deny that minorities often have a right to feel angry. I’ve lived as a minority in Tanzania for 11 years, and it’s given me just a small taste of racial profiling. Even yesterday, when I was in town, I was slapped with a big fine for an inconsequential traffic violation. I felt very picked on for 1) being white and 2) being a woman. I was absolutely furious, and it took 15 minutes of ranting to Gil before I calmed down. I can’t imagine what it must feel like to experience things much worse over a lifetime.

But at the same time, what is the answer? Affirmative action? More laws? Diversity training? Can we force people to think differently? Our society has tried….but has it worked? Maybe to some degree, but obviously not entirely.

Change has to come from the heart. Not from the government, not from the schools, not from the newspapers.

So as a mom of black kids, what will I teach my kids about race? How do I keep from screwing up their identities? How do I make sure they understand their value, give them the confidence to stand up for themselves, and yet prevent a victim mentality?

I find my answers in the gospel.

1) The Bible teaches that every person has value. Every person is made in the image of God, regardless of race, sex, culture, country, whether handicapped, unborn, or terminally ill. Every person has dignity. Every person has an eternal soul.

I would challenge you to find one other worldview, one other world religion, that gives that kind of value to every single person in the human race. There is none. Of course, not every Christian acts this way (see point #2). And of course, people with other worldviews can still believe it, but if they do, they will always be borrowing from Christianity. The only way we can see every human as having equal value is by believing that we are created in the image of God.

2) Every person, whether oppressor or oppressed, has a sinful heart. All of us stand in judgment before God. White America is not the only population to struggle with racial prejudice. We see it in India in the caste system; we saw it in Rwanda when men and women slaughtered 1 million of their friends and neighbors of a different tribe. We saw in it Liberia, when freed American slaves set up a colony in Africa and proceeded to oppress the local Africans. And we see it in the New Testament, when over and over again, Paul and the other writers seek to break down the barrier between Jews and Gentiles.

This is our nature. We must accept this. Instead of pointing fingers, instead of looking for excuses, we must look inside our own hearts and see that the seeds of hate and prejudice and superiority reside in all of us. We can’t just assume, That’s their problem, not mine, because it’s all of our problem.

3) The answer is found at the Cross. I just don’t see any other solution. The Cross brings us all down to the same level–we all have blown it; we all need to be rescued from our own wretched hearts. Not one of us has the right to think we are better than someone else. We all need Jesus; we all need him to change our hearts and our thinking. We need the love that only he can give to overflow to those around us.

4) Our primary identity is found there–at the foot of the cross. God gives us the eyes to see the value of every person. The cross gives us the perspective that no one has the right to feel superior. Yes, we can celebrate our cultures and our colors and the things that make us different, because God created culture and he loves it. But that culture does not define us. It is only secondary to who we are before God, and who we can become in Christ.

This is what I plead in prayer for my children. Yes, I know they will be confused about where they belong in this world. I know they will struggle with their identity. But I pray they can begin to see that African-ness or American-ness or brownness or whiteness really does not matter when we are all at the foot of the cross.

I would want my kids to know that, no matter what color they were. I hope you do too.

For he himself is our peace, who has made the two groups one and has destroyed the barrier, the dividing wall of hostility. (Ephesians 2:14)

Chocolate and Milk

By Amy Medina

On June 7, 2012

In Adoption, Book Recommendations, Race and Diversity

“We were not made to make much of blackness. We were not made to make much of whiteness. We were not made to make much of self or humanity in general. We were made to make much of God.”

I grew up pretty much oblivious to race.

My childhood neighborhood in California was multi-ethnic. My best friend was Indian. Then I spent six years in three African countries.

Back in California in high school and college, I spent 8 years doing ministry in multi-ethnic neighborhoods. Camp counselor for two summers for kids who were mostly black and hispanic. Worked four years for a black employer.

As an adult I spent seven years teaching kids from all kinds of ethnicities. Spent nine of the last eleven years in Tanzania.

As I was growing up, white people were kinda boring to me. Travel and cultures, that’s what fascinated me. The fact that Gil is half-hispanic? Dream come true.

So adopting African children was just sort of obvious. I mean, we wanted to adopt, we were living in Tanzania, and there are two million orphans here. So should we adopt from Africa? Duh. The fact that my kids have dark skin was just….beautiful. And though I always loved the idea of raising a family that mirrored what heaven will look like, I never set out to be a billboard for race reconciliation.

But I’ve been thinking.

Grace and I have been making our way through the American Girl books. And Addy is a little girl living during the time of the Civil War. She’s a slave; she escapes to Philadelphia, but continues to live with segregation even in freedom.

I want Grace to know these things. She is African but has an American passport. One day it is likely she will live in the States. She needs to know.

But did I ever realize how difficult it would be to read her stories about white oppression of black people? Sitting there on the couch, my arm around her, her Mommy in every way, with nothing but the color of our skin separating us. Teaching her how people who looked like me made people who looked like her into slaves. And then even when that was over, wouldn’t even let them use the same bathroom.

I never knew how hard it would be.

And then I read this book (not to Grace!). And I know it’s controversial and not everyone likes it, but I personally was deeply moved. Because I am white, and my daughter is black. Because I have “help.” Because even though I knew the history, there’s nothing like seeing it through the eyes of someone else through a story.

Since I’ve always thought multi-ethnicities were so cool, I think I unintentionally ignored the pain that so many have experienced (are experiencing) because of their race. Even, often, at the hands of those who call themselves followers of Christ. And since we live in Africa, I never fully, truly contemplated the discrimination my own kids could face in America.

John Piper, one of my favorite-ever authors, and who also has an African-American daughter, recently published this book: Bloodlines: Race, Cross, and the Christian.

It’s not my favorite Piper book. But as a theological treatise on why Christians should intentionally pursue racial reconciliation? It’s excellent.

“That I am chosen for salvation in spite of my ugly and deadening sinfulness…that my rebellious and resistant heart was conquered by sovereign grace….if these truths do not make me a humble servant of racial diversity and harmony, then I have not seen them or loved them as I ought.”

“When we feel or think or act with disdain or disrespect or avoidance or exclusion or malice toward a person simply because he or she is of another race or another ethnic group, we are, in effect, saying that Jesus acted in a foolish way toward us. You don’t want to say that.”

My favorite section was on inter-racial marriage. Really, really good stuff. Especially because inter-racial adoption is so similar.

“As long as we disapprove of [inter-racial marriage], we will be pushing our children, and therefore ourselves, away from each other. The effect of that is not harmony, not respect and not equality of opportunity. Separation has never produced mutual understanding and respect. It has produced ignorance, suspicion, impersonal stereotyping, demeaning innuendo, and corporate self-exaltation.”

I humbly recognize that, growing up in my privileged, white life, I will never understand the oppression that minority groups have experienced in America. But yet, God has entrusted me with these beautiful children. So it is therefore my job to do everything I can to try to understand.

Somehow, our family must become a picture of racial reconciliation. Somehow, I must teach my kids how to love, forgive, and reach out beyond racial lines. Somehow, I must teach them how to understand the challenges and history and sorrows of their race, even though I haven’t experienced it myself.

I am inadequate for this task. The weight of the burden is heavy. But yet, it is important and necessary. And worth it.

My kids are sitting on the kitchen floor drinking chocolate milk as I write this. I think chocolate and milk make an excellent combination, don’t you?

Category: Race and Diversity

Christians, Diversity is Not a Bad Word

What Your Grandmother’s Piano Had to Do With Slavery in Zanzibar

Slavery and the Inequality We Continue to Ignore

The Black Girl on the Birthday Card….and Other Lessons on Race

Chocolate and Milk