Well, well, well. Who would have thought that I’d already be diving in on a post?
If you’re just joining me, while uncomfortable work is hard work, I am still me and I still like to laugh and I am probably still going to throw down some funnies in the midst of important, uncomfortable work.
Racism isn’t funny. Prejudice isn’t funny. Me, and anybody else, missing the point of how to be an ally also not funny.
Me tackling all of this and working through it and making some hardcore mis-steps along the way? Probably not funny. Knowing me? Probably going to make some funnies. I’m not sure how, but I feel like it’s important to throw that down. I’m sure somebody is going to armchair shrink me and try to tell me that I use humor to deflect. Probably not wrong. Or that I use humor as a way to deal with the uncomfortable or the painful. Also, probably not wrong. Shrugs
This particular blog comes as a result of an admission I made to a friend just a few minutes ago. One that I don’t think I’ve ever actually REALIZED I believed.
Change is actually possible.
Ok, knock off the eyeball rolling. I mean, it’s easy to say that change is possible. It’s another thing to actually believe it.
Time to get brutally honest here.
I’ve had the luxury of being white. Forget the socio-economics for a second, because that’s a whole different luxury. I can walk out the door, ask someone to leash their dogs, get pulled over for speeding without a second thought. (And we all know that whole getting pulled over for speeding is not an infrequent occurrence for as long as I’ve been driving.) I’ve always known that part. Got it. Cool. Moving on.
Wait. No no, there is no moving on here, not this time. Because, you see, in starting this deep dive work, I’m having to face some stuff that I kinda, sorta, maybe haven’t wanted to face.
Because it’s embarrassing. It’s uncomfortable. And, frankly, it’s racist.
What, exactly, am I babbling on about? (Anybody else noticing I’m babbling, cause I don’t want to share? Yeah, you got that? Rock on.)
I didn’t believe change was possible. Societal structures are what they are and that’s that. Sure, I want to help my Black brothers and sisters. Sure, I support them in their endeavors and blah blah blah. I’m friends with anybody and everybody. But, true societal change? Where this shit stops being shit?
Nah. Not going to happen. It’s too entrenched.
Ouch. I honestly didn’t even fully realize that I once felt that way. For a long time, too. Worse? I would shrug and wonder what I can actually do about it.
GAH. I cringe as I write this. I’m pretty sure you’re cringing as you read this.
So. Why am I sharing? Why am I not covering up these really uncomfortable truths?
Oh, it must be because I want a pat on the back for becoming enlightened.
Or maybe it’s because if I say it, it will go away. Not it, as in societal structures, but it as in I’m perpetuating the societal structures that give white folks like myself inherent power.
Or maybe it’s because my white guilt is making me lay it all on the line in hopes for absolution.
I’ve been doing A LOT of watching, listening, reflecting the last few days - especially on IG where I’m following Black women who are, and have been, rising up against these societal structures. I’m learning a lot. I’m also struggling with what to DO. What am I best at? Writing and being hella vulnerable. But, how do I write about all of this, but not center it around me? How do I write about all of this and not take away from those voices? How do I write about all of this and add support?
I don’t have a very big platform. So, what change can I actually make?
This defeatist attitude, not a usual one for me, is the part of the problem. It’s not only a defeatist attitude, it’s a racist one. Because I spend more time questioning how can I really affect change, I don’t actually go out and do anything to affect that change. Meaning, I perpetuate the same societal structures that are in play and that is, ouch, racist. (I literally quaked as I typed that.)
So. I went to a protest yesterday. Cool cool. That’s a start. I’m kicking off a course in activism and I’m about to kick off a book about white supremacy and my place in that. Cool cool. I’m totally woke now, right? Yeah, sure. We’ll go with that. Seriously though, my talent is right here. And my struggle remains with how to use my voice. Because one thing that I have 1000% internalized is that we haven’t given enough voice to those who need to do the leading, which isn’t me.
And, with this little realization that my actions (or inactions) are inherently racist, I’ve realized that maybe where my voice can be helpful is in sharing the internal struggle with understanding that I thought I was so with it and realizing that I haven’t even been close. White shame and white guilt isn’t going to get anybody anywhere if it is internalized with no action taken.
Do you feel me? Does any of this resonate with you? Did some part of you react a little violently when I owned up on my attitudes and beliefs that need fixing? If you answered yes to any of those questions…
Join me. Get vulnerable. Get uncomfortable. Not for praise, not for absolution, but in pursuit of learning how you can best support this fight for justice.
Because what yesterday helped show me, what these women on the front lines have shown me, is that it is possible. There’s an energy in the air right now that I’ve either been blind to in the past because I just haven’t wanted to SEE or just hasn’t been there. I want that energy to keep going. It’s easy to “do the work” when everything is sensationalized, but what happens when the frequent protests stop? What happens when some new something happens and the media gloms onto that instead? Social justice doesn’t stop. The fight doesn’t stop. And for far too long, too many of us have allowed our privilege of whiteness to allow us to stop when the fervor dies down.
I sincerely believe that change is coming because people are ready to finally drill down, ready to finally take on their own shit. Maybe this hope is because I’m finally ready? Because now I see it? I don’t know the answer.
And I do know that I have some work to do to figure out how to write about this, how to own my vulnerability, without actually centering it on me, how to center it on the issues. As of now, the way I see it, is that by sharing these truths, sharing the understandings that come with these truths, maybe I have some folks who will also own their own truths and get to work, who will follow these folks heading up the good work and find out how they can use their own skills to fight this life-long fight. Because I sure as sin don’t want praise, and this isn’t about absolution for me, even if I do have guilt, but about finding a way to actually be of service.
I laid all of this down on the line not for you to judge me (do what you got to do), but to inspire you to go find what you need to do. Are you ready to face the hard truths? I’ll give you some recommendations of who to follow on Insta. I’m not going to lay it all down here, because these women will tell you that following them without action isn’t going to do you a whole lot of good. (Note: There are also plenty of men doing the hard work, I just happened to choose women to follow initially because… I don’t know… I guess that’s just where I gravitate?) Books that I’m personally going to be starting with can be found RIGHT HERE.
I don’t know how much of this deep dive I’ll be sharing, as I grapple with how to approach all of this in writing, using my skill of writing, without taking away from those key voices, as I grapple with how to uplift them, while owning my own truths and fixing the ones that need fixing. Because, at the end of the day, none of this is about me. It’s about the fact that Black people have gotten the shit-end of the stick and have from the beginnings of this country (and I most certainly do not mean this land, I mean the United States as a named country.) It’s about the societal structures that remain in play that push down some populations while raising up others (Christian, White, Straight, Male.) So, I grapple with how to write about this exploration, in hopes that people will join me in their own, without centering the issues on me because none of this is about me.
Change, quite literally, begins with me. Because if I don’t fix my own shit, I don’t help anybody else in fixing those societal structures that need one monster overhaul.