6 Things We Can Learn From Ron Johnson

    In the midst of the town of Ferguson's pain at the death of Michael Brown, officials made the decision to employ the efforts of the highway patrol under the leadership of Captain Ron Johnson to maintain the peace in that community. Tragically, this decision was made after the city chose to confront their people's heartbreak with flash grenades, rubber bullets and tear gas while dressed in riot gear. 

    It's unfortunate, but the juxtaposition in effort and the astounding change of trajectory in the mood of the people teaches us so very much about human nature. 

1. People will rise to your expectations. 

       I've seen a lot of things in my life, but this one fact comes back so often. If you strap down in riot gear the people will riot. The scale of this principle is irrelevant. If you are one on one and accuse, corner or point fingers, you will create violent conflict. If you amass an army and you march in to an emotional situation, you will create a war. Ron Johnson's efforts very clearly illustrated that if you meet people on their level with kindness, respect and the expectation that you will be safe and respected yourself, more often than not, you will be proven correct. 

2. Pain will be expressed.

    Pain is like water, it fills the spaces it flows into. If you restrict the movement of pain it will press it's limits and break trough. Pain, like water, goes where it wants. When it is plentiful it can flood and destroy communities if it is not properly channeled. But pain can be used as well. Pain can produce an electricity in communities that reforms them and changes their very character. We should never make light of or ignore a flash flood of pain. We should work to teach people how to swim, work together to rescue them and give them safe harbor until the waters subside. Johnson gave the flood waters an outlet and began a healthy open healing process. 

3. Compassion is our greatest self defense. 

    Ron Johnson walked through the streets amongst a hurting and angry community. He made himself vulnerable but remained safe because he used the shield of compassion. One cannot be both a friend and an enemy. If we make ourselves a friend to people that would otherwise make us afraid and treat them with compassion and respect, what might become of things? 

4. Courage inspires courage.

   In the press conference given from the QuikTrip, Captain Johnson did something we rarely see. He invited members of the community into the circle of information to hear and ask questions themselves. He was the first among official personnel to take questions from the people. At first it was obvious that his idea had completely disrupted the ideological flow of traditional press conferences, but what happened in that setting was truly magical. First, the press fell mostly silent. There were very few of those annoying "what a stupid question" questions we are all used to hearing. They fell silent in respect for the members of the hurting community and they began to listen. They became one with the crowds of the people and joined in the applause. How rare for journalists. Then as Captain Johnson led the charge in eloquently and compassionately answering the people's questions you begin to see the confidence and courage build in Gov Jay Nixon. He began interfacing with the people. His answers were far less eloquent as certainly he has more scrutiny and less freedom in what he can say, but he got brave. Captain Johnson's courage inspired more courage. 

5. Everyone longs to be heard. 

    We are a tribe, a city, a nation and a planet of unique and passionate human beings. Each of us experiences life both completely alone and together as one. We are so alike and yet completely misunderstand one another. Johnson has inspired me to be a much better listener. Not the kind that tries to fix or define, but the kind that merely allows others to be heard and understood. 

6. Listening to people changes everyone. 

       We live our lives platformed and alienated from one another. When I was younger and stupider, I thought I knew what I believed about everything. I knew what was true about racism, sexism, abortion, poverty, gay marriage and politics. I knew all the platforms and I chose mine proudly with the members of my tiny community. But then something happened. The more people of color I met, the more I saw racism. I saw it in my community, in the system, and in myself. The more men and women I met the more I saw sexism in the church, in schools, in my workplace. The more women I got to know the more I learned about abortion. The more I saw how damaging standing on a platform can be to them. The more poor people I met the more I could see systematic oppression, toxic help, and insurmountable obstacles. The more gay and lesbian couples I met the more and more difficult it became to hear about how they were kept from their children or loved ones or bank accounts when they had been in car accidents or when a partner had tragically died. The more politicians I met, the more I felt the slimey, people-pleasing corruption that seemed to ooze from their every word. I found myself agreeing with any party less and less. In other words, the more people I meet the less and less platforms mattered and the more and more I feel drawn to the people and their individual stories and their individual success. 

   Ron Johnson made a lot of bold moves this week. He wore the colors of the enemy and walked among the people. He united an entire community in a time of suffering. And not the least of his great moves, encouraged an entire planet on cable news with the peace that Christ offered to Peter when he started to sink. He got scared, we all get scared. And that's ok