George Floyd’s death was unspeakably barbaric. As a mother and a nurse, I cannot comprehend why the words “I can’t breathe” meant nothing to the man kneeling on George’s neck. How could that not matter to the law enforcement officer? HOW??

It’s taken me some time to get over the shock and outrage I felt and still feel regarding George Floyd’s horrendous death. I tried to write a blog post immediately, but what kept pouring from my pen were long streams of pain and harsh poisonous words which could not be put out into the world.

Day after day, I wonder when will we learn as human beings that we are all equal? When will it be okay to look, and think, and feel differently than others?

No matter how “woke” we may believe we are, those of us who are honest, can delve into our little brains and scrutinize the prejudices, biases, and stereotypes floating around in our intellect.  

In my humble opinion, I think it is time to get past those things. We have to do better! The way I see it, there are practical ways for us to help and to do better.

First, it begins with police reform. There seems to be a tremendous lack of accountability for police officers, and there needs to be reasonable standards which officers are obliged to uphold.

Perhaps this reform begins with something as simple as requiring our police officers to have more education and training, particularly around mental health issues and deescalating and defusing situations with just their words when possible.

What if law enforcement officers were required to hold a license like a nurse does? Nursing licenses can be temporarily suspended or permanently revoked, so we can’t go to another state or hospital and continue substandard practices. I know I’d feel a lot better if police officers who did not meet the standards set could not simply move to another state and get another job in law enforcement. 

That being said, I do realize there are many good and compassionate men and women who are police officers who discharge their duties appropriately. They should be training the next generation of officers.

 Secondly, I feel strongly our children need to be taught to value and celebrate diversity. I’ll never forget the first teachable moment I experienced with my eldest daughter quite some years ago now.

As a young nurse and mother working in a large mid-Maine hospital, I towed my almost two-year-old along with me to pick up my paycheck one glorious summer day. As luck would have it, a doctor of color got in the elevator with us. 

He was the first person of color my daughter had ever seen. Standing next to me in the elevator, I watched her eyes light up when she saw him. Clasping her little hands under her chin she squealed. “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy, Look! God made him chocolate. Oh, Mommy! Isn’t he beautiful!”

“Yes,” I said, feeling mortified she’d just used the word chocolate to describe the doctor. “He’s beautiful.” 

Then I scooped my precious pumpkin into my arms just in case she was thinking about licking his hand and mouthed the words “I’m sorry” to the doctor.

He bestowed a gracious smile on us both and asked my little cherub if chocolate was her favorite flavor.

“Yes,” she said, vigorously shaking her head up and down. 

The doors to the elevator opened. “What a coincidence! It’s mine too,” said the doctor. He gave my girl a smile and me a wink before exiting onto his floor.

Those few moments spent on the elevator that day made me deeply aware I needed to educate my child about colors, cultures, and religions, and so it began.

A great deal of acceptance and tolerance education is done simply by modeling the behavior you want your child to emulate and leading by example.

It’s important to teach your child to judge a person only by what they discover in a person’s heart, not by their skin color or religion. Tell your children to always treat others the way you would want them to treat you. The Golden Rule is golden for a reason!

As embarrassing as the elevator incident was at the time, I’ve come to realize it wasn’t a bad thing that my young daughter saw skin color as flavors at all. Sunburned people were strawberry people. Brown people were coffee. And she loved all of them! They were all beautiful to her. “The world is a better place because there is more than just vanilla,” she pronounced one day as she grew older and wiser.

I wholeheartedly agree. The world is a better place because there is more than just vanilla here. I hope and pray this is finally the year we all learn to respect, embrace, and enjoy our unique human “flavors” and celebrate our diversity.