A close friend shared a scene he witnessed recently. “Walking along the water just outside of Lisbon last night, 2 young black kids on bikes split the gap between me and 2 middle aged women to my right. Clutching their Chanel bags a little tighter to their hips, the inevitable: ‘That’s the problem with this country (the blacks). They are the ones who make trouble and challenges at school . . .’” The irony, as my friend was quick to point out, was that this conversation was literally at the foot of the maritime fort where Africans were once chained, enslaved, and exported to serve the colonial empire. I replied, “You just gave context the ladies with Chanel bags lack. Conditioned behavior needs no context, since it comes easily, sans self-examination.”

Yesterday, the President of the United States surprised a small bevy of reporters in the White House briefing room by upstaging his Press Secretary at the podium. Apparently he felt a need to refocus the attention already given to the recently concluded trial involving the death of Trayvon Martin. He opened his remarks by saying, “I want to talk about context.” He invited us to consider the real life experiences of African-Americans, including his own, and the historical context of black suppression in our country. His statements were an invitation to the white majority to change perspectives—to see the pain in the black community, to empathize. The African-Americans I know never ask for sympathy since they recognize no white person can truly walk in their shoes. But, as human beings, we should be able to at least see the pain “that doesn’t go away,” as the President pointed out. When our black brothers and sisters demand fair treatment and justice, I listen to them not from a sense of guilt: I’m not responsible for the sins of the past. I listen to them because we share a common humanity and because we are imprinted by a common heritage that unfortunately includes racial discrimination. The only guilt earned here is from a personal failure to listen, to empathize, and to attempt self improvement. We should not avoid self-examination. None of us are exempt from the “soul searching” the President prescribed. He even rhetorically included himself when he asked of each of us, “Am I ringing as much bias out of myself as I can and am I judging people, as much as I can, based not on the color of their skin but the content of their character.”

It is not my purpose here to review or debate the various prescriptions suggested by the President regarding the Trayvon Martin case. There are already critics characterizing the President’s remarks as “race baiting”—a label designed to demonize his intent and preclude further thought or dialogue on the matter. What I do want to highlight, however, is that real change begins with the individual. Buckminster Fuller once used the metaphor of the trim tab’s role in turning a large ship on the ocean to describe how a small device can affect a disproportioned result. The small trim tab accelerates the movement of the larger rudder and thereby the maneuverability of the enormous vessel dependent upon it. We can transform our country, but we have to start with ourselves first. Once we broke the shackles of slavery, now we have to shatter the cocoon of denial. Each of us has to face the realities of a bias that has permeated our society for far too long. To ignore this context is an unpardonable conceit.