I do not know what it is to be black. I do not know the feeling of being physically present but not being seen. I do not hear words of hatred aimed at me. I am not made to feel shame because my skin is not white. I do not fear for my life every single day. I do not cry for my children because I fear for their lives. I do not need to teach my sons to be cautious, careful, and wary whenever they encounter police officers. I am not black.
“It would be equally helpful to be shielded from the smiling, happy, faces of those oblivious of what it is like to watch someone who could easily be your brother, cousin, auntie, or nephew be murdered in cold blood. To not have to force a smile when a coworker greets you with anything but grim remorse. To not have to think about the what it must be like to be so shielded, so protected, so blissfully unaware that you are able to utter the words “good morning” when the morning is anything but. To avoid the inevitable “Oh, I hadn’t heard,” belying that person’s “commitment to inclusion,” as to include me is to know that my people continue to be systemically marginalized and brutalized, to include me is to go out of your way to make yourself aware, to include me is to speak up about it. And today I don’t want to be reminded that I’m not really included.” — Erica Joy
But I am sad. I am grieving. I am angry. And as much as I can never know what it is to be black, I am yet bound by my heart to make it better. To effect change. First and foremost, I am a mom. And moms “fix” things when they are broken. We nurture and defend. I want my children and especially my grandchildren to grow up in a world where all are accepted and loved.
In her article A Guide for White Allies Confronting Racial Injustice , Cameron Hough notes:
“No one marginalized group has ever successfully advocated on behalf of themselves alone to enact change. It takes informed and empowered allies to tip the scales, and I thank you for understanding that (even if this is the first time you're actively realizing it) and seeking a way to better lend your voice. The black community comes from a lot of different (and valid) schools of thought when it comes to enacting change. Protest, policies, petitions, and public demonstrations ...are all important tactics, but above all else, I believe that one-on-one discussion is the most effective change agent."
And so we must have the conversation. But many, many whites have a VERY hard time starting the conversation. As Erica Joy points out above, we may sense that blacks don’t want to talk about it with us. Complicating matters, we are uncomfortable with the subject because really don’t know enough to speak thoughtfully or intelligently about it, and that makes us afraid of looking ignorant and stupid. Or we are just in plain denial that racial injustice exists.
Mandela Schumacher-Hodge, Director of Kapor Capital Founding Portfolio Services and a TED presenter, gives some well-thought-out suggestions for how to start the conversation. There are many extremely intelligent and wise readers here, so I ask your forgiveness if these guidelines are too simple, but sometimes simple is the best place to start.
EM-PA-THY:
The experience of understanding another person’s condition from their perspective. You place yourself in their shoes and feel what they are feeling.
1. Educate Yourself
To be empathetic, we have to know and understand what defines racial injustice. Daily Kos is an excellent place to learn. Bring your understanding to a local level by engaging in your community. Discover what particular issues affect your community and how they are being addressed.
2. Talk About It
Ah, easier said than done. Here’s a retweeted example of how one young woman and a police officer started the conversation:
“So this morning I went into a convenient store to get a protein bar. As I walked through the door, I noticed that there were two white police officers (one about my age the other several years older) talking to the clerk (an older white women) behind the counter about the shootings that have gone on in the past few days. They all looked at me and fell silent…..”
3. Become an Ally
Take “me" out of the conversation Remove your personal identity from its center because the issue is not about you. Be a good listener. If someone challenges your perspective, don't be offended.
4. Keep Looking In the Mirror
Ask yourself: What am I doing today to be a part of the solution? What will I do tomorrow to be a part of the solution? What will I do next week? Next month? Next year?…
When I think back about my life, especially about growing up in the South, I realize that sadly, racism is part of my personal history. I learned about it from my parents and grandparents. I experienced it somewhat in the reverse while attending middle school during the desegregation movement of the mid-60’s. Some of those moments I’d like to deny and some I’d like to forget. I cannot change the past, but I can change the future. It starts with me.