Ms. Parks also said “I would like to be remembered as a person who wanted to be free, so people would be also free.”
The photo and quotes above are what I wanted to post on Instagram this past Tuesday (#blackoutuesday), but I let Insta successfully convince me otherwise when I saw the majority of the people I follow posting black squares. Posting a black square just didn’t “feel right” to me, so I added a heart (to be a reminder that love can shine through), but it didn’t help.
Perplexed as to why I was feeling so confused and that I didn’t want to do something that seemed to be the “right” thing to do, I went in search of education and started looking to our black leaders, activists and teachers, many of whom I learned were not impressed with the “black square movement” and, honestly, rightly so. What would posting a black square and seeing one after another after another on my feeds really accomplish?
The time to listen to black people’s experiences is NOW. The time to see clearly is NOW. The time to step up is NOW. The time to support blacks is NOW. The time to embrace blacks/uncomfortableness is NOW. The time to love black people is NOW. The time to stand together as one is NOW.
The time to put our whiteness on the line is now.
No question.
But, like many, many others this past week, I’ve found myself feeling all the emotions. Depression, anger, shame, regret, overwhelmed, despair – basically everything from #10-22 on the Emotional Guidance Scale. All the emotions we try so hard to keep at bay with any number of things—alcohol, drugs, work to name a few. I think the Coronvirus pandemic has helped strip us bare, however.
But, also, l’ve felt a lot of pressure externally to say something NOW, to do something NOW, to change something NOW. That I felt like I needed to post something because if I didn’t, it would mean I didn’t care enough. That I was too scared to speak out. Whether that’s been real or imagined, doesn’t really matter. What matters is if I feel this way, I suspect there are others who are, as well. I won’t claim to speak on their behalf, but I will speak for me.
We absolutely need the people who may process things more externally to rise and light up the fire immediately. But, we also need the people who may process things more internally to more deeply contemplate the right actions. Both are valid. And both are needed, especially now. Flames eventually die down and when they do, we’ll need others to continue to fan the embers. Like in a forest fire, what rises amidst the ashes is often more robust and beautiful than before.
Because let’s face it. This fire will not burn out tomorrow, or next week, next month or likely, next year.
The structures allowing systematic racism to endure in our society weren’t built overnight, but over centuries. Centuries.
When I was a child, I was taught that if I was in trouble, scared, fearful of someone, that I should find a police officer. That police officers will protect me. I’m sure many of us were. And, he/she would very likely have protected me. Would they have protected me if I had been black?
We may think only people of color are suffering at the hands of their oppressors, yet we all are. We’re all deeply connected as one in unimaginably myriad ways, how could the suffering of some not affect all in some way?
We’ve wrongly believed that if we didn’t have any conscious bias, then it was others who were racist. It was those using the n-word or hurting black people that were the “real” racists. But it’s the “quiet racism” stemming from our unconscious biases—those conditioned since birth—that can be harmful too: Not giving people equal work for equal pay, passing over those of color for promotions, sentencing blacks to longer and harsher prison sentences for the same crime.
Perhaps it’s because we’ve believed we’re not racist so this doesn’t involve or affect me. But, it’s white citizens who best ensure white police officers, white racists, the white Amy Coopers of the world are no longer able to weaponize their whiteness. When we stand and walk beside our black brothers and sisters.
Standing up for what I think is right is not easy, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t do it.
I don’t profess to have the answers. I know I do not. So I’m trying to educate myself, see how I can be of service and above all, listen, learn and unlearn when necessary.
We all want to be seen.
We all want to be heard.
Even if you don’t like what we’re saying.
Even if we don’t like what you’re saying.
I’ve been consuming everything this past week: The social media posts, the shocking protest photos, the comforting protest photos, the news stories, the op-ed pieces, watching journalists getting arrested while reporting, the political cartoons, the funny but sad memes and alllll the cookies in the house. And, I may have gone out and gotten more. Shh…
I’ve seen more clearly than ever before how black people are marginalized in our world, simply for being black and thus, somehow beneath and less than, us whites. In practically everything.
But I’ve also seen my friends get hateful messages for speaking out and declaring enough is enough. I’ve seen people in the public eye, whom I admire, be demonized on social media when they admit that they’re learning and attempting to do better, simply because they’re not doing that right or fast enough.
Everyone deserves the right and respect to speak from their own experiences.
Blacks and marginalized peoples have indeed been having to rowing this boat too long. Their arms, their shoulders, their souls, are tired. They’ve been fighting the current for so long. Yet all of us together, we can change the current. Together, all of us can smooth the waters. I recognize that.
But, here’s the thing…me going off half-cocked and uncommitted to a particular course of action because I created it under pressure based on what I perceive others think I should be doing isn’t going to help anyone. I’m in this for the long haul. We all need to be, otherwise it will be like all the times that have come before. And we can’t let that happen this time.
I also need time. Time to sit, meditate, contemplate, discuss, challenge, cry, rage, consider, plan, and change. It may not be popular or understood, but for some of us, myself included, NOW includes more than just protests.
I know I will make mistakes and I will do my best to learn from them. It was a mistake not investigating further before just posting a black square on my feed, but I’m not deleting it. I own it and every time I see it I will be reminded that I need to find my own way and honor what feels right to me. To take a moment and lean into the feeling of unease, to be thoughtful and then ask myself if doing or participating in _________ fits my values and what I believe to be true. To listen to my gut and to make sure it isn’t simply fear wanting to stop me.
It may seem that I’m telling you want to do. Perhaps. More importantly, I’m telling you what I’m going to do. At least a partial start anyway. Because my list will expand as I continue to grow, learn and evolve. But I’ll share it in a future post, because I’m going to take the time to research, read, listen, meditate, and commit to actions that feel right for me. And you should, too. You should create your own list—you can use any of the many circulating out there to start. You’ll have to find the things you can and want to do, that you feel to your core is right for you and keep adding to that list when you’re inspired to.
To my fellow whites who are scared, who feel that even if they stand up, they can’t do enough to overturn centuries of persecution, that it feels too big, too overwhelming, too impossible. Looking at our history, it’s hard to see what is possible: Slavery, Jim Crow, continued police brutality, white supremacy. The overwhelming evidence shows the deck is stacked against us, as too many from past generations have died trying to make a difference.
BUT what if NOW is the time we can change? What if now is really when we prove it can be done? And if not now, when?
It can’t be done, you say.
Until it can, we say.
What if the time is NOW, precisely because a global pandemic has forced us to recognize that we really are truly one. That we are all connected. That surviving a global pandemic has primed us to feel we can survive anything, that maybe we really are strong enough to stand up for equality of all peoples and change our communities, our society, our neighborhoods, our nation, our world, for the better. What if that time is NOW?
This “manifesto” from Leslie Dwight, a writer, designer, non-famous white lady, has justifiably been making the rounds on social channels:
“What if 2020 isn’t cancelled?
What if 2020 is the year we’ve been waiting for?
A year so uncomfortable, so painful, so scary, so raw — that it finally forces us to grow.
A year that screams so loud, finally awakening us from our ignorant slumber.
A year we finally accept the need for change.
Declare change. Work for change. Become the change. A year we finally band together, instead of pushing each other further apart.
2020 isn’t cancelled, but rather the most important year of them all.”
It can be, but we have to make it so.
I’ve started and re-written this blog post more times than I care to count. I’ve been attempting to corral my thoughts into coherent sentences, to reconcile my beliefs on how the world is to me vs. my darker-skinned brethren, to look at my past with a critical eye as to how I’ve contributed to the unjustness.
I’m not sure I’ve done it here (you’ll be the judge of that), but this won’t be my only post on this matter.
We have to be on our knees before we can stand.
Twenty twenty has brought me to my knees. I’m ready to stand. I hope you’ll join me and if you need a hand up, do not hesitate to let me know. We can support each other on our own journeys as we get to our feet.
The beginning.