My friends, my heart is raw as I write and speak this words. The murders of Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, and George Floyd have ignited millions and even burned buildings to the ground.
Some of you listening to or reading this may think that I am speaking out of turn because I am a white, privileged, woman. How on earth could I understand what African Americans are going through right now?
The truth is, that I cannot. I don’t know what it’s like to be followed while shopping in a store. I don’t know what it’s like to be called names by white supremicists. I don’t know what it’s like to fear for my life when I’m stopped by a police officer. I don’t know what it’s like to show up at a job interview to be told they are no longer hiring. I don’t know what it’s like to be told that my hair is too ethnic. I don’t know what it’s like to research which countries are least racist when I’m making my travel plans.
What I do know is that this oppression has to stop. And what I do know is that I have a voice. And what I do know is that I want to use that voice for good. Even if that forces me to get uncomfortable. Even if that makes other people uncomfortable. Because here’s the deal: we can no longer stand idle and be silent. To do so is to condone the systemic racism that has plagued this nation and planet for centuries. I am unwilling to participate in that kind of oppression.
2020 has been quite a pressure cooker. But what if, just entertain this idea with me for a second, this pressure cooker is heating up so hot because it’s time to separate the gold from the dross. What if 2020 is the year in which we are not only being called to higher and better and more fair ways of doing things, but we’re also being forced to face the blatant evil running rampant in our world?
What if 2020 isn’t a curse, but one of the most monumental and epic blessings we have ever known because it is shaking up civilization as we know it? All this turmoil and heartbreak and death and destruction and sickness are teaching us something. Something absolutely vital and that is this: extreme hardships shows us what’s truly important.
And when you are faced with death, is there anything truly more important than life?
Martin Luther King said that “a riot is the language of the unheard.” I do not condone violence or looting, but can you imagine feeling unheard for centuries?
I think of the time when my younger brother lived with me. I would ask him kindly to clean up a space he left messy. He would forget and I would ask him the next day again, kindly. He would claim he got busy and forgot again, so then I would ask him the next day, kindly. And he would reply, "Oops, I can’t believe I forgot, I will do that, I’m sorry, I’ll get that done today.” Same thing the next day. Then the following day, when the mess was still there, I would yell at him, “ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS? I’ve asked you 4 times to do this over the course of a week and it’s still not done!” And then he would get upset that I yelled at him.
Can you imagine asking nicely for CENTURIES to simply be treated as a human with equal rights, only to be ignored over and over and over and over again. Or even worse, to have promises made to you that never came to fruition? I would be IRATE. I was IRATE with my brother after one week and that scenario doesn’t even deserve to be compared to the plight African Americans have endured for generations.
The wealth and prosperity that so many people enjoy in the United States wouldn’t exist without African Americans. Our country was built on the backs of their labor. The industries that solidified our country's place on the world trade stage were fueled by their grueling work. Black men served alongside white men in the military - fighting our nation’s wars - and came home far too often, to a totally different reality than what white men came home to.
As white people, we must educate ourselves on the reality outside of our text books that favor the white version of history. Our future depends on it.
I have a t-shirt that says “peace starts with empathy” and I believe that to be true. We may not fully understand what it feels like to be black in America, but we can empathize and activate through educating ourselves on the history and current reality of what it has felt like and feels like now to be African American in the United States.
If you are like me, then it is safe to say you would never actively call yourself a racist, but this is the point at which things get really uncomfortable… including for me personally. I need to question everything I believe about race because there are so many ingrained cultural, political, familial, societal beliefs, conscious and subconscious, that need to be dismantled. And in order to dismantle them fully, I have to start with myself and the subconscious beliefs that have shaped my life as a white woman.
There is a great graphic going around on social media right now about racial gas lighting by @ogorchukwuu and it reads:
“racial gaslighting sounds like
My white brothers and sisters, this is our opportunity to listen and to learn. To absorb the experiences of people we love and care about and hold space for them. This is our opportunity to stand alongside them and say. “I may not fully understand. I may mess up. I may not be fully educated about what you have been through, but I am here and I am trying. And I will stand with you and fight for you and recognize your experience and do better.” This is not our opportunity to insert our opinions on someone’s else’s feelings or experience.
This is what I want to say and what I believe in the depths of my heart:
I have such excitement for a future that is integrated, inclusive, and whole. There may be disagreements, there may be bumps in the road, there may be hardship along the way. But let’s not focus our eyes on what we may have to overcome, let’s focus our eyes on what we have to gain: friendships, family members, ideas, expanded culture, creativity, hope, literature, music, art, laughter, more grace, more empathy, more love. This is what happens when individual humans work together… we get BETTER as a whole.
The age old lie that some have to be poor so others may be rich is just that… a lie. There is enough to go around. And when one of us is lifted up, all of us are lifted up. When we help someone else, we are also helping ourselves. When we look into the eyes of someone outside of our physical bodies, we are looking directly at ourselves.
What we must understand, is that we are all made of the same thing. I don’t remember exactly who wrote it, but someone said, “If God is the ocean, we are all a cup of that water.” We all came from the same stuff. And furthermore, when one of us is hurting, we are all hurting.
So yes, all lives do matter… but for centuries now, black lives in the United States have been systemically oppressed. Listen to the podcast 1619 for proof. Read The Water Dancer by Ta-Nehisi Coates to imagine the reality of what slavery was like. Watch the myriad of documentaries on race in the United States. It is undeniable. To be African American in the US, and I’m crying as I write this, is to start the race a minute after everyone else has taken off while wearing a weighted jacket.
This is not right. And I want to be on the right side of history when it comes to the black lives matter movement. And how do I know it’s the right side? Because it is the loving choice. The choice where people who have historically been oppressed are lifted up, recognized, empathized with, celebrated, and given a permanent and undeniable seat at the table.
So here’s what I’m doing right now: I joined a book club led by two amazing African American women and we are reading So You Want to Talk About Race by Ijeoma Oluo. I’m actively having discussions with my African American friends to understand what they are facing and to understand and dismantle any beliefs that I have that are not directly in support of equality for all. I’m getting conscious about the things that I buy and where the money is going. I’m actively voting for African American candidates so there is more representation for people of color in our government. And I’m using my voice - not just to join the crowd on social media, but to kindly challenge other people in my life who may not fully understand the gravity of what my African American brothers and sisters experience on a daily basis.
I want to end with this, and this message is for my white brothers and sisters, and this is a quote taken from social media by Carlos A. Rodríguez. It is this:
“I see no color” is not the goal.
“I see your color and I honor you. I value your input. I will be educated about your lived experiences. I will work against the racism that harms you. You are beautiful. Tell me how to do better.”
… That’s the goal.