A Balance of Grace and Growth

Ripple Consulting began in March of 2020. As we approach another year in the work, I’ve been pausing to reflect a lot. This isn’t too surprising, as I’m a chronic overthinker. I constantly analyze how I act, what I say, and how these things are being received. While anti-racist and anti-oppressive work and organizing is far more than about me, some of my reflections feel crucial doing this work as a White* person.

I recognize that not everyone will agree with some or all of my reflections. I also know I don’t always get it right and make more mistakes and missteps than I’d care to admit most days. Some may feel I should not be a voice in anti-racism as a White person. I respect this, and I have learned that racism damages all our humanity. Therefore, I feel called to be in this work to continue to grow myself, while providing space for other White people to discover, unlearn and address their junk too.

I call this a balancing act of grace and growth. This is so crucial when calling in and calling out other White people; because we need to be mature enough to recognize our mistakes and complicity without getting stuck in our shame and guilt, while also remaining accountable to other White people committed to anti-oppression and BIPOC communities. So, here are a few things that I’ve learned (and continue to learn) on my journey:

  • Engaging in the work of dismantling systems of oppression should not be a choice. White people NEED to engage in this work and need to recognize our complicity in these systems.

  • This is heart work, starting with my heart before seeking to change anyone else’s heart.

  • Curiosity can lead to connection and understanding, but we often neglect it, especially in conversations where we do not agree with the other person.

  • Hate is easier from afar. The closer you get to the “other,” the more you can find common values, connections, and humanity. Our differences should be celebrated, and we are all more alike than we often realize.

  • Life is hard. I can choose if it’s hard because I stay trapped within fear and other people’s expectations, or I can choose the hard of honesty and showing up fully and authentically myself.

Over the next few paragraphs, I’ll expand upon some of my learnings. I hope they aid you in this work, or at the very least, help me clarify my observations around anti-racism and anti-oppression.

Do I really have a choice?

In our current race based society, engaging in anti-racism and anti-oppressive work is presented as a choice to me as a White person. In fact, it was not until early adulthood that I began to recognize the deep racial disparities in this country, the dominance of Whiteness, and the privileges and advantages these afforded me, even when I was unaware. Yet, as I began to awaken to the inequities and oppression around me, I realized I could not unsee it. Racism and other forms of oppression have damaged us all to varying degrees. White people are dehumanized through racist and capitalist messages to just continue with the status quo, don’t make waves, continue as a cog in the machine, and you only succeed if you achieve “perfection” by any means necessary. We are also taught to only see Black Indigenous People of Color (BIPOC) as objects and others to be feared. By failing to see another’s humanity and justifying heinous acts against BIPOC communities, we lose our humanity and regress to barbarians. Thus, I need to engage in this work. I need to see my complicity within systems of oppression, and it is going to take me and other White people coming alongside BIPOC communities in order for these systems to be dismantled.

While I need to be in this work, part of my role is to work on myself and with other White People, to hold them accountable in addressing the internalized superiority in themselves. The other part is to pause, listen, and follow the guidance of the BIPOC in this work. Any learning or strategies I employ must be accountable to them and not a way to “fix” their plight. I’m not the savior here; I’m part of the problem and don’t need to lead the charge towards a solution.

“The Root of resistance to racial justice is the heart.” Jemar Tisby How to Fight Racism

Once I’m committed to anti-racism and anti-oppression, as a White Person, the first work I have to do is on myself. I cannot hope for any systemic, cultural or interpersonal change outside of myself, if I’m not first willing to commit to growing and changing myself. I believe that racism, the acceptance of Whiteness as the dominant culture and norm, and the “othering” of people different than myself are so prevalent in my life and society that these ideologies, narratives, and behaviors have become internalized in me. They have in turn influenced biases I have formed and beliefs I hold about myself, other White people and BIPOC folks. So if I want to uproot all of these things in the world as a whole, I need to uproot them in myself first. And this work is heart work. Fear, hate, and misunderstanding have misshapen how I see myself and others. Recognizing these emotions and beliefs, then seeing how they prevent myself and others from being our authentic and fully human selves is crucial! So I have to be honest about what’s in my heart, good, bad and ugly; learn how I act on these things; and then learn new ways of being and believing.

A posture of curiosity.

One of these new ways of being is approaching myself and others with curiosity. If I think “I’m right; you’re wrong,” and my way of doing things is the “right” way, I will fail to truly see you or hear anything you’re saying. My focus will be on getting my point across and convincing you to believe what I have to say. At the heart of this is: I believe I am the person who will convince you to change and think how I do. I have a responsibility to fix and save you.

But if I start working on myself and realizing I don’t have it all right and have lots of issues myself, I’m going to hopefully approach people and conversations with much more curiosity. This applies to BIPOC and White people. What if I approach each person with the attitude of, “I have something to learn from you.” Or even better, neither one of us owe each other anything and simply seeing you and your humanity can lead to greater connection and community. This combats the White inclination of individualism, the belief I can be and accomplish on my own and don’t need anyone else. Humans are wired to do life together, just like pack animals. So going it alone only further hurts my heart and my psyche. One of the things I’ve started asking myself: will this _______ (insert action, statement, belief, etc.) lead to further connection or further disconnection? If the answer is disconnection, I need to pause and rethink my approach and whether I should even do or say something. In a lot of ways, conversation is a lost art, but keeping curiosity and the question around connection in the front of our minds, we can re-engage in conversations, even the hard ones.

It’s hard to hate up close.

Pursuing connection and relationship will also lead to more proximity to people who are different from me. When I’m willing to approach someone who looks different from me, believes something different from me, or has different life experience from me with curiosity and an interest in discovering more about them and who they are, something wild happens. I actually see that person as a human with intrinsic value and worth, beyond their relationship to me. They are not an object for me to use. They are not colorful stories that make me more interesting. They are not an obstacle in my way. They are someone who most likely holds one or two similar values to my own. They are also someone who has been jacked up by the oppressive air we’re all breathing. AND they can be my teammate in working to create something new and working towards everyone’s collective liberation.

When we get this close to people who don’t seem similar to us at first glance, we begin to see more similarities than differences. And we also begin to see how our differences create depth and beauty and complexity that is so much more appealing than a sanitized version of life where we’re all robots who look and act the same. Bottom line: we restore each other’s humanity and the fullness that it brings.

A new kind of hard.

I’m not going to sugar coat it. Living into all of the actions, attitudes and beliefs I just laid out is hard. It doesn’t happen overnight, and it’s a process that will continue for my whole life. There are still moments, days, weeks, and months that I opt out of this hard or debate if it’s worth it. And yet, when I do, I just exchange it for a different kind of hard: a life of fear, hatred, misunderstanding and confusion. A life where I do and say the things other people have told me to do and say, rather than checking in with my heart and living into my authentic self. A life where I have a lot of privilege to hoard over others, but where I also experience oppression, pain, and bondage to this game day after day. In this status quo hard, I might believe I am free, but I’m not free until everyone is free. So I choose the new hard. I choose to show up and lean into growth and the discomfort that ensues. And I choose to do so imperfectly, getting back up and at it when I make mistakes. And maybe, just maybe restoring a bit of my own and others humanity with each step forward I take.


*We intentionally capitalize Black and White when referring to race. This is to restore the dignity and humanity of Black folks and to embrace the diverse culture and experiences not relegated to a subclass of American (African Americans, Asian Americans, Americans).  We intentionally capitalize White people and Whiteness because White is synonymous with a dominant culture and ideology throughout the US and beyond. We recognize that this default way of doing things and presumed superiority often leads to the erasure of or failure to recognize the damage Whiteness has caused and continues to perpetuate. By capitalizing “White,” we look squarely in the face at the harm of Whiteness and the ideology of White Supremacy, acknowledge our complicity in this, and won’t look away as we seek repair.

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