“No matter who the threat is, no matter what the threat is, you look them in the eye so that they know you’re human.” (a Black Lives Matter demonstrator in Whitefish, Montana, who stood up to an angry man who was inches away from her face, talking about the advice her late father had given to her)
“There is no law that we can pass that will change an individual’s heart. We must create spaces for open communication between law enforcement officials and the communities they serve. These serious conversations will lead us to better outcomes. It’s hard to hate up close!” – Senator Tim Scott, South Carolina
In a tensely angry moment, I purchased the above pin. The purchase came after a day of running errands with my daughter, last week. As we all know, last week was very tumultuous and emotionally charged. My purchase came from a moment of helplessness at my very core, where I wanted to hug every person of color whom I came in contact with, in order to show that I truly care about George Floyd’s needless death. I wanted to show that in my deepest humanity, I felt sick and sad and scared and yet even hopeful about the whole situation, but in reality, I also felt entirely uncomfortable, too. I didn’t know what to say to anybody, and I felt very ill at ease and anxious to get home. I remained silent and awkward in every store, although I did try to convey my heart, through my eyes, the only part of my face that was showing, above my mask. In the car, my daughter mentioned that she had felt the same level of agitation and helplessness that I had felt. We both noticed the races of the other people who we had come in contact with, more than we ever had before. It was a strange awakening. So, in my anger and in my sadness, and in a mix of shame and righteousness, I purchased the above pin.
I proudly showed my new piece of attire to my sons. They winced. “Wow” and “Okay” is all that they said. I was surprised by their reaction. In my emotional moment, I honestly thought that I would probably get some “cool mom points” for my purchase. I imagined that by me wearing that pin – me, a middle-aged, well-heeled white woman, with nice clothes, a designer handbag and coming out of a snazzy car, would be making a statement, everywhere I went, without having to say one word.
But then I calmed down. That choice didn’t seem particularly brave. It seemed sort of defensive and it lacked self reflection. It pushed the problems of society away from me.
In my settled-down self awareness, I decided that no child, no matter what the color of their skin, needed to see me adorned with “the f-word”, no matter how many pretty flowers were surrounding it. Instead, I started researching racism on-line. I downloaded the book How to Be an Antiracist by Ibram X. Kendi. I am currently reading this book, slowly and carefully, watching for any signs of defensiveness I may have, that could cloud the open mind, which I have always prided myself for having. I am currently scouring my own beliefs, and the hidden, subconscious aspects of my own character that do not, in any way, reflect what I want for me, and for my family and friends, for my country and for humanity.
I don’t wear the pin that I purchased. Instead, the above pictured pin, has a rightful place on my cork board next to my desk, where I keep pictures of my family, our dogs, trips that we have been on, and other images that are inspirational to me. The pin still serves as an excellent reminder . . . . a lovely, forceful reminder to me.
Keep us posted on what you learn from the book you are reading.
I got schooled last week when I re-posted a quote from the sheriff of Tulare County (CA) who said (paraphrasing): if you hate cops, be sure to contact the emergency center (911) and let them know that the next time you call for help we shouldn’t rush to your aid.
That seemed reasonable to me. You can’t have it both ways. Either you respect their service or you don’t call on them for assistance. Apparently I am now the poster child for white privilege. Because I don’t understand what it means to fear the people who are sworn to serve and protect.
I have no issues with non-whites. I wasn’t raised in a racist household, and I have not taught my son to fear or condemn people with different ethnic backgrounds. True, there aren’t many blacks in the area where we live, but there are plenty of other ethnic groups, so it’s a healthy mix.
Do you, or any of your readers, have the uncomfortable feeling that somehow we are being made to feel guilty for having been born pale? I’m told that the tables are turning and we now get a taste of our own medicine. But I don’t remember dishing out that medicine or forcing anyone to swallow it. Apparently that is the central issue here – that because I am not a vocal opponent of racism, I am part of the problem.
Honestly, I’m just trying to live my life and survive this pandemic along with everyone else. I’m not taking medical care away from anyone; I’m not stealing food from babies or hungry children. It upsets me to be called a “hater” because I am not part of a disadvantaged minority. I’m not stepping on people to get ahead; I’m not creating a subservient atmosphere around my rarified existence. I’m simply playing with the hand I was dealt, to the best of my ability.
I’m sorry that happened to you, Kelly. My kids often get frustrated with what they call “the cancel culture”, where you are afraid to say anything, as it is sure to cause an uproar and offend someone now, or down the line. And the crazy thing about that is, until we get some real dialog going, some real honest communication from all sides, the problems and the perceptions, are going to persist. My husband and I did watch Spike Lee’s Do The Right Thing for the first time since the 1980s. It really helps see the complexities of the racism problem, at all angles and it doesn’t make any one in the movie, out to be a saint.
I also feel guilty walking around in my white skin. No matter how much I proclaim my support for Black Lives Matter, I’m really not able to do anything helpful. I don’t know any black people. I don’t know what to do with my face when I see black people in stores now. Of course, they can’t see my face, so I just walk around feeling uncomfortably white. I’m currently reading a book called “Between the World and Me,” that is pointing out all the heinous things white people have done to blacks over all these years. Makes me sick.
Thank you for sharing, Gail. I think that from all of our uncomfortableness, good things will come. Before any change happens, there has to be a realization that things have to change.