To whom do I direct my questions, and how?
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I could start off by saying I understand, but do I? Maybe it would be better to say I want to understand, which is why I have so many questions.
I’d like to say I empathize with people of color but that would imply that I understand their feelings. The truth is I could never understand how they feel because I’m not them, so I’d rather say I sympathize. I’d rather say I cry for their pain and when I do, the tears are real.
I can only imagine the fear, the terror, the senselessness, the ghosts of their ancestors. I recognize over 400 years of oppression and I see clearly that none of it mattered because the struggle is still real today.
But at the same time, all of it mattered and it will continue to matter until all black lives matter.
I can’t correct what happened back then so what about now? Tell me how to address it right now.
I’ll tell you what doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter that I married a black man simply because we were two human beings who fell in love. Knowing him intimately doesn’t mean I know his internal struggles.
It doesn’t matter that I have adopted black siblings who call me sis, because according to some, I’m not allowed to call them sis back. How does that make us a family?
And where does that leave us all?
It leaves me afraid to ever touch the subject. I’m at a loss because there are no clear guidelines for white etiquette. No matter what I say or how I feel, it can be construed as something else.
I realize that watching movies like Selma, Rosewood, Mississippi Burning, and 12 Years A Slave, doesn’t qualify me to understand the plight of black people.
So tell me who are those movies for, if not for me and those of us with white privilege? People of color don’t need enlightenment on their past because they live it in the present. It is us white folk who need to be woke and stay woke, long after the movies end.
But the question is, what can I do right now to acknowledge it? How can I best address it without encountering push back? There’s always push back, which makes us afraid to address it.
For those of us considered privileged it feels impossible to even start the conversation without meeting resistance, so where can we start?
If I, as a white person, can look back on history with disgust at what my people have done to their people, what is my duty right now? How do I begin to right the wrongs?
If I try, will people of color meet me with an open mind and heart, the same way I’d like to meet them?
I agree, some white folk don’t want to change, but neither do some people of color. That’s where the problem lies. I don’t always feel accepted as neutral territory, because I’m white.
I see you, white privilege. And I see them, all people of color.
Yet here I sit, right in the middle because I wonder if they believe that I see them. Or do they lump me in with the ones who don’t see them?
I can’t change how I was born, I will always be white on the surface. So does it even matter what lies beneath? I want it to matter as much as I want all black lives to matter.
I have no use for the sterile, gleaming life of being white. Nor do I use whiteness to raise myself up while pushing others down.
No one knows what’s inside me from a distance so how do we bridge the gap and get to know each other up close and personal?
Are we at a permanent crossroads or is it possible to take one more step and meet in the middle so we can fight the same battle?
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