‘Reparations’ is often considered toxic word. Here’s how one group is making it work

Centuries-old racism-generated violence is still with us, as in the threatening or killing of people of color. Sometimes, it evokes the discussion of reparations, a toxic word tossed back and forth, until it falls through a crack in the discussion.

I know three youngish roommates who live in Los Angeles, and instead of ignoring the hot-potato word, they formed a Community Redistribution Circle. To me, the circle represents the edge white people have, traditionally and legislatively, in accessing loans and other money for personal and business enrichment. Black and indigenous people have been legally denied the restoration of their stolen lives and property, and equal access to traditional financial security, so here’s one version of repaying something.

Not all non-profits and government programs give to deserving parties with no strings attached. This Circle collects monthly from friends, neighbors and relatives, then divides donations into substantial enough sums to propel one or two recipients toward a financial goal. They cull through leads from sources investigating requests, usually vetted through people they know.

Members of the LGBTQ community with moderate incomes educate themselves about challenges petitioners face financially and otherwise. They each contribute, and suggest that if they can do with less for someone who needs, maybe we can, too.

Targeted recipients are Black and indigenous persons and others whose lives have been affected by health issues, housing discrimination, poverty, mental illness, houselessness and countless conditions that are usually handled with bank accounts or help from family, if possible. Without traditional financial provenance, they don’t fit neatly into our capitalist system.

Some recipients: a farm in upstate New York growing and providing food for people affected by incarceration; those whose houses burned down; victims of attack who can’t afford medical bills; medical care for a 96-year-old Tennessee woman who wants to stay in her own home as long as possible; the Pointe-au-Chien Indian tribe in Louisiana hoping to rebuild after Hurricane Ida destruction; a Black woman trying to start a garden/food forest/sculpture garden on inherited family land in New Orleans; and a community activist and podcast reporter covering the persistent problem of L.A.’s homeless population.

Because many of us are white and live in a Kansas suburb, some in an area called Shawnee Mission after a displaced people, do we owe money to the original inhabitants who were chased off, relocated or murdered? Not directly.

But local or federal financial practices, which over time become norms, have made it comfortable to not feel responsible, especially since we were not personally raised with great wealth. We secured income by working, saving and buying a home, all of which are easier in this country for white people to do, taking advantage of race-based financial practices, whether we know it or not.

We don’t have to feel guilt to have empathy. We don’t see poverty in our neighborhood, but we know it exists. We aren’t personally responsible for what happens to most fellow humans, but we have a moral responsibility to care. We have benefited, and our challenges have been manageable, so far. We were born white, which is the only thing we can’t control.

I see this group as an original inspiration, and encourage all of us to look for ways to help without being asked. Or thanked.

Reach Ellen Murphy at murphysister04@gmail.com