Just how deep my whiteness goes

I’ve often wondered how I would have acted if I was alive during the Civil Rights Movement. I’ve often wondered if I would have been one of the white people from up north willing to drive down south, join protests and marches, and risk my life. And I often wonder if I would have been indoctrinated by the white people around me and parroted that MLK and other leaders didn’t use the right words or “speak respectfully” or go about fighting for their rights in a more appropriate way that was less disruptive to my life. I’d like to think that I would have been a strong, white ally, willing to risk ridicule, my reputation, and even my life to fight for racial equality.

While 2020 is worlds away from the 1960s in some aspects; in other aspects, current events and race relations are far more similar to the Civil Rights Movement era than many of us would have hoped. The US has been rocked by numerous murders of unarmed black men and women at the hands of police and civilians, and whether these individuals will be convicted of crimes and required to serve prison time comparable for their actions seems unlikely. Black and brown people are disproportionately incarcerated; often receiving sentences far steeper than the crimes they commited warranted. Black and brown people face lives as second class citizens in this country due to the racial wealth gap, health disparities, education disparities, and so many other disparities due to systemic racism at play for hundreds of years in this country. So I want to take a minute to speak to the people, much like me, who are grappling with the time and space we are living in. A time of racial reckoning where people are recognizing these disparities, some for the first time, and wondering what to do about it. I’m mostly talking to white people. Non-black people of color, some of my experience may be relatable to you too. For black people, I appreciate any consideration or patience you throw my way to entertain my experience and musings, but I’m sure none of this is new to you.

As a white woman, around six years ago, I began to awaken to the racial injustices and disparities that are very prevalent in the US. Throughout these six years, I have learned so much about myself, how I have been socialized as a white woman, how I have benefited from white privilege, and how white is presented as “normal” and the default and just “how it is.” I mean, the fact that I made it to the age of 25 before I began to think about how race impacts myself and those around me says a lot. And I recognize that throughout these six years, I’ve done a lot of hard work. I’ve learned a lot about myself. I’ve learned a lot about others, especially others who don’t look like me and have very different life experiences. And I’ve learned about the systems set up to help create those very different life experiences.

And yet, up until what 2020 has thrown at me, I was largely able to take this journey on my terms. With my white privilege, I could choose to opt in or out of conversations. I could choose if I wanted to stick my neck out in order to call out an injustice I saw, or I could just to come up with some justification in my mind for inaction. I could be wholeheartedly working towards anti-racism and racial equity at work, and then come home to my personal sphere and not apply those concepts to who I called friends, what businesses I spent my money at, and even to how I chose to vote (or not vote). 

2020 completely upended my normal and status quo. Suddenly, all of the privileges I had taken for granted were up in the air and in question. Certainty about my financial security, health, and stability of my country were all unknown. And I know I wasn’t alone in this. And then, as whatever used to be “normal” for me became less and less of a thing, racial injustices and the murders of black men and women completely bombarded the news cycle. Then, protests and riots as a response to these injustices ensued. And it really became impossible to ignore what was going on or opt out of conversations in regards to race. My social media and news apps held little other information. Every discussion with friends and family led to the topic of race. And in all of this, I realized that how I was going about anti-racism work was still very much from a place of privilege and whiteness. I’m committed to this work and value it’s importance, but I often only want to engage in it on my terms and by my rules.

So as my social media filled up with people stating not only how important anti-racism work was but also critiquing how to correctly and incorrectly engage in it, my life got a lot harder. I got a sliver of a taste of what it’s like for a person of color in this country who cannot avoid the matter of race because of the skin they are in. I longed to stay present and aware of each of the events occurring on a minute by minute basis, but my racial capacity muscles grew weak. After only two weeks of constant information, protests, and continued racial injustice, I was so very exhausted. After two weeks versus a lifetime.

And I want to be very clear, I am not looking for sympathy, nor am I mourning the days when I could more easily slip back into a place of privilege and approach racial justice work on my terms. What I am realizing and want to be honest about is how eye opening and humbling my reaction to the events of 2020 has been. I am committed to anti-racism work as my career. And, I am not a white woke person who has “arrived.” And frankly, I’ll never be.

2020 has shown me just how deep my whiteness is. In the same way that racism has stripped away people of colors’ humanity and used narratives to dehumanize and use them, my humanity has been damaged and lessened. Because of how I have been socialized racially, I’d rather bow out of a conversation or movement in which true systemic change could occur, if there’s a risk that I could be told by a person of color that I’m not doing it right or don’t have altruist motives. Because of the lies of whiteness, I believe that my right to racial comfort is greater than the safety and life of my fellow brother and sisters of color.

I’d be lying if I said that these feelings didn’t make me want to re-examine engaging in anti-racism and racial equity work at times. But by the grace of God, I’ve resisted those urges. And as I continue to exist in the year that is 2020, where racial injustice persists and where systems continue to fail black people and other people of color, just as they were set up to do, all of these realizations actually fill me with a sense of relief. Honesty has a funny way of doing that.

I am doing this work of anti-racism, and when I do so, I will mess up. I will selfishly make the conversation about my own comfort versus the safety of others. I will fail to listen, to truly listen, to people of color and believe their experiences. I will say the wrong thing. I will offend people of color. I will say and do things that contribute to racist systems and racist ways of thinking and being. And there’s a release in that vulnerability. I no longer wonder if I would have risen to the occasion if I lived during the Civil Rights movement. I have failed to rise to the occasion at times in a similar movement that is happening right now.

And yet, I also have risen to the occasion at other times and by remaining committed to this work. I can use these insights to get better at the work, and to enter it more humbly. To lower my voice, to amplify others. To de-center my voice, to center others. And I know I've done this imperfectly. I know there’s been times when it was better to speak up and advocate, rather than quiet my voice. I also know there’s been times when I’ve spoken up when I shouldn’t have and diminished people of color’s voices. I know all of these things. And I also know I must continue on. And when others point this out, I need to hear them with humility, accept the correction, and commit to doing better with my next breath, my next thought, my next action. So I continue on imperfectly, committed to anti-racism and anti-oppression everywhere. For our work is not done until ALL are equitably free, hate dies, and love wins.