But...Am I Racist? Anti-Racism 101
IT'S WEEKEND HOMEWORK!
Better yet: IT'S HOLIDAY WEEKEND HOMEWORK! Yes, the answer is yes, my high school students loved me, yes.
We're taking a two-pronged approach here: on one hand, we're building our justice-citizen muscles with small, consistent actions (calling senators, making connections with local groups). On the other, we're strengthening our often extremely thin understanding of What Racism Is, How Racism Works, and How We've Been Complicit in Racism—because without this understanding, we'll blithely continue our oblivious, well-meaning campaign of destruction (not to put too fine a point on it).
How Important is Educating Ourselves?
When I asked a beloved social justice mentor whether we should focus on education or action EDUCATION OR ACTION ANSWER ME, she calmly responded:
Action is what is key here.
But some actions can be linked to self-work. You need to be examining your beliefs, ideologies, etc. You have to find a way to be comfortable with the discomfort that comes from finding out that you're not as informed as you thought you were or that you hold problematic views that you either don't realize you have or are unwilling to expose because of how it would make you look (ie, it contradicts your view of yourself).
Should have known she'd deftly avoid the false-dichotomy trap.
So: I propose reading the pieces linked below and doing some journaling, if you can manage it. But at least the readings. Before you start, I offer a meditation on Star Wars Legos.
I know.
We Are All Sam
Sam, my son, is nine and obsessed with Star Wars Legos. At left please view the desk in his room, which I'm showing you because I love you and trust you not to hate me for the shameless materialism pictured here. Most of his Lego pieces are elsewhere (eg under my feet BUT I DIGRESS), but he proudly keeps the boxes stacked on his desk like so many heads on pikes. An outside observer could note—accurately—that Sam is extremely privileged in the Lego department. But. Never has Sam come home from a friend's house saying, "Wow, I'm really grateful for all of the Legos I have. My buddy loves Legos, too, but he doesn't have the Millennium Falcon or Shuttle Tydirium, and I really love playing with those sets. I'm a lucky kid."
You know where this is going.
He does return from a friend's house pining for the Imperial Star Destroyer, or the Mandalorian Death Blaster OR WHAT HAVE YOU. He can absolutely assent to the abstract notion that he-is-fortunate-to-have-Legos-when-other-kids-don't-have-any-toys-YES-I-get-it. But when surveying the landscape of possibilities open to a Lego-loving person, he focuses on what other people have that he doesn't have, not on what he has that others don't have. This, of course, is human nature.
I submit to you that this impulse doesn't disappear with childhood and does affect our understanding of opportunity (and therefore race) in America. When surveying the landscape of possibilities open to a 36-year-old American, I am more likely to inventory the tools I don't have (maleness, a PhD, a trust fund) than those I do (job security, marital stability, higher education, whiteness). (Full disclosure: the second set of parentheses took twice as long to fill as the first.)
So it comes as a shock when someone calls out my privilege, because I just haven't been looking in that direction. I'm Sam, playing with the Millennium Falcon but dreaming of Krennic's Imperial Shuttle (OR WHATEVER IT'S CALLED). I can't fathom my privilege when I'm not even looking at it.
I think we're all Sam, which means we will all be smacked a bit by these readings. That's OK. As I've said before, we are not Poor Little Rich White Kids who can't break a nail. We are grown women and men who can absorb some unpleasant truths about ourselves and make change.
One More Thing Before We Start
I would like to encourage us all to assume that everything in these pieces of writing is true. I'm not asking you to turn off your brain or become an uncritical reader; it's just that, when our skin is in the game, we become really critical readers, know what I mean? Anything that's not true here will not stick, will not last, will not hold up over time. Let's read with love and trust and openness, not suspicion and critique. OK, enough.
A couple of comments left on Mosley's piece. Ned and Sheila FTW; let's be like Ned and Sheila.
The Readings
- Stop Telling Me to Fight, a raw, exhausted open letter to white progressives published by Da'Shawn Mosley on November 10. This might gut-punch you and/or make you feel defensive. That's OK.
- [Stuff white people do]: Wonder where to start when they join the fight against racism. The subtitle sums it up: Racism 101 for Clueless White People, Written by a Slightly Less Clueless White Person. If Mosley's letter made your stomach churn, this should help you sort out that response. NB: Follow the link above because the author deserves to know s/he's appreciated, but if the organization drives you nuts, I've reformatted it here.
- White fragility is real: 4 questions white people should ask themselves during discussions about race. This one would be interesting to read before Thanksgiving, because you will almost definitely hear some fragile-talk this weekend.
Extra Credit: Read the three pieces in the order suggested, and then read them all again. Insight gained in 2 and 3 will guide a re-reading of 1.
And then: comment below. How does this hit you? Ask questions; share revelations. This is one of those "safe spaces" you keep hearing about (safer, even, than a theater). Once we admit that we're all clueless white people, we can ask open-hearted, open-minded questions. If you really want to keep it anonymous, send your response to questions(at)forloveandaction.com, and I'll post it for you. xo