Black Lives Matter
Firstly, I want to thank all the people who have put their lives on the line to protest for Black Lives Matter, especially the BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, and People of Color) community. The endemic racism in our society is a matter of life and death, highlighted by the death of George Floyd and so many other people of color. Thank you to the media for their (sometimes courageous) coverage, and for all the people who are protesting this unfair, unjust system of unspoken and unacknowledged discrimination. I honor you.
In my life until now, race hasn't mattered to me because my race hasn't negatively affected my life. That's my privilege, one of many. I am waking up. I am so sorry. I am unsure of my ability to make change, but I am learning that I have more power available to me than I know.
One of the main reasons I didn't seek to develop my understanding of race, my ability to speak from an anti-racist perspective, or even educate myself about my lack of understanding was because I felt ashamed of myself. I felt I should already know how to do this, being an educated white woman who has so much privilege. I've now learned that this is called White Fragility, and it's an aspect of white supremacy, and a culture that's designed to make life easy for white people at the expense of BIPOC. I have so much to learn.
From an emotions perspective, that should speaks to me of an underlying agreement, or contract, that I've taken on but haven't necessarily agreed to. I've been trying to live by this outdated, unrealistic, and inappropriate contract that says I should already know how to be an anti-racist, and that's why I've kept my head in the sand.
What I didn't realize is that it was because of my privilege that I didn't have that education. My privilege (in terms of race, economic status, education, ability, and sexual orientation) meant that the issues that Black, Indigenous, and People of Color have to deal with on a daily basis were not issues I have ever had to deal with.
They were issues I was afraid of. Afraid to speak up about or acknowledge, because I didn't know what I didn't know, I didn't know what to start asking, or who to go to for information. Even when I had friends and colleagues who were studying anti-racism, I kept myself comfortably insulated in my bubble of family, garden, work, friends, hobbies. I told myself I didn't have time to pay attention, that I couldn't do anything anyway.
These were all platitudes designed to keep me comfortable, far away from challenging myself, my behavior, my silence, my sense of justice and freedom. I didn't know it then, but this comfort comes at a steep cost to BIPOC. I do not want to live in such an unjust society.
I have begun the process of educating myself about white supremacy, endemic racism, and privilege. It's not comfortable to acknowledge my part in this, that by being silent, by being a "nice" white woman that I was contributing to the problem. I'm ready to acknowledge the fear, shame, anxiety, and apathy wrapped up in talking about race, in being an anti-racist. A friend shared this resource as a place to start: bit.ly/ANTIRACISMRESOURCES
I am so sorry, for my silence, for my ignorance, my willful ignorance, for sticking my head in the sand and saying, "what could I do that's not already being done?". I am sorry for my complicity within my silence. I am sorry for not taking my privilege and doing more.
I will do better.
