Working to Build A Table for All: A Personal Approach to Systemic Racism

Interview with Justina Kopp

Part Three from our “Tending to the Wounds of Racism” Series

The inside of a small and intimate chapel.

Photo by Chelsey Shortman

Series Introduction

In Gaudium et Spes, the Catholic Church underlines the necessity of social justice by pointing out the basis of our call to charity as social beings: “everyone must consider his every neighbor without exception as another self.” (GS 27). 

This is founded upon our belief of the dignity of the human person: “Created in the image of the one God and equally endowed with rational souls, all men have the same nature and the same origin. Redeemed by the sacrifice of Christ, all are called to participate in the same divine beatitude: all therefore enjoy an equal dignity.” (CCC 1934). 

From here we can stand firmly by the words of the Church that, “Every form of social or cultural discrimination in fundamental personal rights on the grounds of sex, race, color, social conditions, language, or religion must be curbed and eradicated as incompatible with God's design.” (GS 29). 

In the midst of many movements and outcries, we have interviewed Black Catholic women about their experiences of racism and their hopes for the Church and our world. Through their words and stories, we pray that you find healing, understanding, and zeal for renewing our Church and society; that through your personal choice of charity, we might call out sin, call on virtue, and truly love each of our neighbors as another self.

Interview with Justina

Photo of Justina

Justina Kopp is a stay-at-home mom living in the Twin Cities, MN with her husband, Matthew, and their quadruplet toddlers: Cora, Raphael, Theodore, and Benedict. She is a 2013 graduate of the University of St. Thomas - MN where she studied Catholic Studies and Biology, and she currently serves on the Advisory Board for the Center for Catholic Studies. Before marriage and family life, Justina served as a campus minister at the University of Minnesota’s Newman Center. Her life story, marked with the tragic loss of her father in the I-35W bridge collapse and the surprise of her quadruplets, has been told through various media and podcast outlets. When she’s not chasing her kids around, you can find her cruising around town with Starbucks in hand listening to her favorite true crime podcasts.

What inspired you to pursue a relationship with Jesus Christ?

Honestly, I am most motivated and inspired by the way that others (especially the saints) talk about Jesus as casually and intimately as they would their friend or parent or sibling. It brings Him to life. He’s not someone distant or uninterested, He’s so vividly present to each and every one of us. I just so badly want to be His friend, ya know?

What do you love about being Black? What do you wish others could understand about being Black?

I love so much about being Black! I love the warm, deep brown of my summer skin. I love my big curly hair, so voluminous and thick. I love my family’s ancestry and the rich connection that we have to Kenya and the Kisii people. I love that I can point to one specific area on a map, to a hillside, and say, “That’s our home.” I wish people could understand how, despite being a complicated and painful history, we are proud of who we are. I am proud of where I come from. My experience is uniquely my own. I am not a monolith, and no single Black person is either.

How has racism been prevalent in your life? How has it affected you and your family?

Racism has kept me feeling like a perpetual exception or outsider. Growing up, people would tell me that because I am mixed race, I am “pretty for a Black girl” or “not really Black.” I was raised in a predominantly White community and parish, and I was called an “Oreo” because people said I acted and talked like a White person. I constantly felt like I wasn’t White enough to be considered White, or Black enough to be considered Black: both and neither. I struggled for a long time (and still do!) with understanding my identity as a half Kenyan, half German-American. It made it really hard for me to understand the role that racism played in my life because I didn’t know what exactly I was allowed to claim.

My family has faced racism in all sorts of ways. At various points in our lives, we have been tokenized, asked to leave places, and blamed by law enforcement for the acts of racism inflicted upon us.

Was there ever a noticeable shift in which racist behavior towards you increased? (Ex: around a certain age or in a new place)

There was a marked shift in racist behavior when I entered my public high school after years of Catholic grade school, and an even bigger shift after my (White) dad died halfway through my high school years. I’m not even sure how to articulate this because it was so backwards and awful to experience this on top of the grief of suddenly losing him. People would look right past my newly widowed Kenyan immigrant mother and talk to me or my brother about important matters, like finances or bills or insurance. It was so gross and uncalled for. Becoming a mother myself really opened my eyes to racism in a whole new way. The pressure to always be put together before going anywhere with the kids was and is so huge. I get dirty looks and rude comments if we are not all “presentable.” It’s just not socially acceptable to be a messy Black person. Messy buns are for White women, it seems.

What’s something you wish Catholic women knew about racism already that they may not know currently? 

I wish that Catholic women understood the gravity and reach of the sin of racism. Upholding racist systems is “incompatible with God’s design” (CCC 1935). We must pray AND act. As women, we have a particular call to nurturing, and in our nurturing, whether that is in our homes or in our communities, we must defend the dignity and worth of every single person. Racism is anti-life.

How has your faith helped you work through your experiences of racism? What advice would you give to young Catholic women of color who have been wounded by the sin of racism? 

My faith constantly reminds me that I am precious in the eyes of God. I do not deserve the treatment that I received.

To Catholic BIPOC, the Lord delights in you and who you truly are. Your righteous anger is a holy fire on the sin of racism. Let’s keep going, sis.

How do you think non-Black Catholics can help create a welcoming environment for BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, People of Color)? Do you have an experience of when you felt welcome in a community of non-black people? What did that look like? 

I think that non-BIPOC Catholics need to acknowledge how painful our experiences have been within the Church. Even simply not being acknowledged has been painful. Practically speaking, this might mean that inviting BIPOC into these spaces can be unsafe for BIPOC Catholics themselves, because of unresolved or unaddressed issues with racism within those spaces. For example, if a particular parish has a history of dismissing or ignoring racism, a Black Catholic wouldn't truly feel welcome unless the parish acknowledged their sin of racism and showed an earnest and meaningful commitment to eradicating it within their community. Offering a seat at the table could mean that you first have to build a completely new table to safely make room for your BIPOC brothers and sisters. Sure, this might be uncomfortable, but it must be done.

At your parish, who serves on the board or parish council? Is your parish’s only involvement with BIPOC in the form of mission trips or service work or visiting priests from other countries? This perpetuates this idea of White saviorism. Certainly, we are all called to serve one another, but we are also called to be in community with one another. Making a new table could look like a homily series on the topic of racism, covering the topic in Bible studies or small groups, highlighting BIPOC saints, and a commitment to calling out the sin. If I ever saw these sorts of steps in my parish, I would feel so much more welcome.

Genuine encounter is so necessary. Our exposures to people who look and live differently than us cannot be limited to just donating on Mission Sunday or a summer mission trip to a developing country. More than likely, there are BIPOC missing from the pews of your own church, here at home. We must remember that we are a universal Church. We are all made in God’s image and likeness. How beautiful is that?

What are some first steps Catholic women can take to fight the sin of racism? What do you think is needed long term?

With racism being such a large, systemic issue, it’s easy to get overwhelmed. First, pray and stay close to the sacraments. Ask saints like St. Josephine Bakhita, St. Martin de Porres, or St. Katharine Drexel to stand with you and help you persevere, as this is going to be an uncomfortable but necessary journey. Then, focus on your spheres of influence. Form an intentional anti-racism book club or host a virtual viewing party for a movie or documentary on the topic. Encourage your priest to preach boldly against racism. Follow some Black Catholics on social media and amplify their voices and experiences.

What is your hope for the future of the Church?

My hope for the future of the Church is that we would lead the way in dismantling and eradicating racism. I would love to see our clergy courageously call out the sin of racism and encourage us stand up against systems that perpetuate it. Racism is a pro-life issue, beyond abortion. The Church’s history with racism is certainly not a perfect one, and I think we need to reckon with that and atone for it.

This interview was compiled and edited by Amelia Arth.