Damn, girl, do you ever stop harping on this race stuff? Just give it a freaking break and breathe.
So just in case anyone thinks I’m preaching at you.
I’m part of this system.
I’ve sent my kids to schools for years – for YEARS – without really digging into how their skin color affects their day-to-day experience. I’ve made excuses for micro aggressions and outright racism and smoothed things over for everyone involved. I’ve bent over backwards making sure nobody else feels uncomfortable around our family.
I haven’t done my due diligence on materials used in the classroom, the Eurocentric focus in history, or representation of people of color in months other than February because, frankly, I haven’t cared. History is history, right?
I failed to advocate for my kids simply because I am part of the default and our goal has always been for them to succeed within that system. I never thought to look at whether the system itself was broken. Not once.
I’m doing my best, and on a good day that’s not half bad. But I’m not innocent. Not by a long shot.
A few things I’ve learned so far.
** Representation matters. It was important that their picture books had people who look like them, but that longing to see themselves doesn’t end when they start kindergarten. They need to know they’re more than Rosa Parks and Martin Luther King. They need to see the plurality of the black experience.
** HAIR. Geez, y’all, I could write books on the ways this matters and some white mamas would still be sitting around all “well, MY mama just plopped a bowl down on my brother’s head and cut his hair right in our kitchen, if it was good enough for HIM…” No. Just no. Do your research. Then ask a friend, an acquaintance, a kindly black grandmother you see in the grocery store – just get some advice. Humbly.
** You are not “woke” if you’re insisting a) there’s no such thing as color, b) MLK and affirmative action sorted things out, c) you’re set because of your black friend/spouse/child/neighbor, or d) those policemen and thugs in sheets are just “a couple of bad apples.” Do not claim to be an ally if you’re not actively working to dismantle the system.
** You might have a White Savior complex if you a) gush about how your mission trip is saving those poor souls while posting their photos all over your social media, b) rush in to “save” marginalized people of color (“well, of course those women don’t want to wear a hijab!”) instead of asking how to help, or c) coo about how your friends rescued their child of color by adopting him into the family.
** A lot of the things we white people have been taught to say – things meant to be supportive or loving or woke – are anything but. If someone’s distraught over another shooting then your, “I’m hurting, too, we’re all children of God” doesn’t help. It brushes aside their pain to center your own. It discounts realities unique to living in black and brown bodies and screams look at me, I know what injustice is!
** I think one of my biggest lessons is hearing that I need to sit down, shut up, and listen. There’s no shortage of white women expressing outrage. I’d do better to listen to others more expert than me.
******************************
We’re drawing near to closing out 2018. What have you learned about race this year? How has your life been affected by race issues, race relations, or white privilege in your communities?
I hope you come into the Small Bites space with an open mind and heart. For my part, I know now what I didn’t know in my twenties and thirties, but I don’t yet know what I don’t yet know. Many thanks to those who are willing to share their thoughts and perspectives in the comments.
You can find other entries by selecting small bites in the drop down menu under “series posts.”
Dr. King once said, “He who passively accepts evil is as much involved in it as he who helps to perpetrate it. He who accepts evil without protesting against it is really cooperating with it.” He also said, “In the End, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.” Thank you for not being silent. Your voice makes a difference. 🙂 On another note, I LOVE your “small bites” delivery, as well as your writing style.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you for reading and for your lovely compliment — it means so much to me when people love spending time here. I especially appreciate your taking the time to share Dr. King’s wise words. I’ve often thought we could get somewhere if schools based their kindergarten curriculum on his philosophies…
LikeLiked by 1 person
I traveled through rural Indiana today.
Okay?
I saw and heard a plenty, although it all falls into the “I can’t prove intent” and “I’m sorry, could you run that by me again?” category. Have I mentioned I’m a city mouse? In a diverse community? Where I am a literal minority, but still the in-power authority-majority? That alone is a problem. Of course I am part of the problem, of course, system user, still truth teller! But oh, out there. Some places are just too white for me. The Great White Flight is not something I’ll be participating in and it’s really all I can do to visit it quickly and how.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hmm, rural Indiana is someplace I’ve never been. It doesn’t surprise me at all that it falls in the Way Too White category. I love your take on this because spot on, all of it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
In 2018, I learned–really finally REALIZED deeply–that I, as a white woman, am part of the problematic system of racism. White women are not only white, we’re white WOMEN, and have been used (by men and by our own gender) as an excuse for racism and still are, whether it’s explicitly stated or not. The depth and breadth of the fabric of racism is so great, and it’s so invisible when you’re part of the loom.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Somehow I missed this comment back in December but wow, you’ve perfectly captured the role we play. I wish I met more people who grasp this as well as you do.
LikeLike
BRAVO, Laura!
And yes, with shame, Me Too.
Thank you for rousing me. TS
LikeLiked by 1 person
I have to believe it’s what we do after the shame that matters right now. Thank you for reading and sharing your thoughts. 💛
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’ve sadly learned that racism is alive and kicking in our country, in people I didn’t expect to see it in. I’ve learned my kids are entirely more open, and are actively pursuing an understanding of what it is to be a person of color in our world. I’ve learned there is so much I need to learn, and yes, I just need to listen.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Honestly, I always thought I was a good listener until I started this work — that’s when I realized how hard it is for me to sit with something painful. I’ve spent a lifetime perfecting ways to avoid feeling uncomfortable, then someone rolls up through my Instagram feed saying my existence makes their life harder? Yeah, I scrolled right past that for a long time. I love how many people I meet in the blogging world are open to change. 💛
LikeLiked by 1 person
Even as a kid, I was aware of white privilege. My father owned a small store in a black section of DC and he was a racist, at least at home. He would use the “n-word” and talk about how none of “them” could be trusted. I rebelled against that at a very young age, telling him I didn’t like when he talked that way and didn’t agree with him, but that didn’t stop him. His store got burned out during the MLK Jr. riots that destroyed many black neighborhoods in the inner city and, of course, he blamed “them” for ruining everything. As I grew up, I went out of my way to be the opposite of my father in this regard and have tried to embrace people for who they are, not what they look like. I hope, in that regard, I have been a role model for my own now-adult children.
LikeLiked by 2 people
So I love hearing stories like yours because I find this fascinating — you were raised with a racist parent but pushed back against it, yet so many kids my kids run into have obviously absorbed the messages at home. I wonder how many factors go into making a person strong enough to stand up to someone, especially a parent. Thanks for sharing.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Our family moved when I was entering 5th grade. We moved from a neighborhood that was racially diverse (although that wasn’t a term applied to neighborhoods back then) to one that wasn’t diverse at all. They moved so my brother and I could attend a “better” school system. At the age of 10, I realized something was different. My father explained, and for the first time in my life, I started to understand white privilege. We attended school in our new neighborhood, but we attended church and spent much free time in the old one. I am only now beginning to realize the complexity of those experiences.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Wow, Dan, you had a really interesting childhood. We put a lot of weight on “good school system” when we chose our current house — I’m just now learning all the ways race factors into those evaluations. I think it’s fascinating your parents maintained ties in the old community because knowing what I know now (as a parent), that’s no small thing.
LikeLiked by 2 people
The church was where my mom grew up (she was a member for 80 years) and the other town is where my dad was born and where he worked. Both towns were close to where we ended up. It’s a story I hope to be able to tell some day.
LikeLiked by 2 people
I don’t remember the pics in my school history books. They must have been there, but being a wordy girl I can’t recall them. That being said, I wonder how those pics influenced my grasp of history. No answer, but I’m kind of curious now about what I saw back then…
LikeLiked by 1 person
I wonder that, too! They’re almost subliminal and I’m sure I picked up plenty of ideas without having a clue.
LikeLiked by 1 person
never stop. please.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you 🙏🏼 💛
LikeLiked by 1 person