It’s been many months since I’ve written anything in this
blog. I’ve started several times only to give up. Do I really have anything
worth saying? My mind has been clogged with grading, planning, buying a new
home, traveling. Not enough time to focus, not enough leisure to let the
thoughts take shape.
But now, Charleston. Nine black people murdered in cold
blood by a white supremacist shooter, who was given a gun by his father as a
birthday present. IN A CHURCH, during a Bible study. And the perpetrator had
been sitting in their midst, a latter-day Judas. He reloaded, too, so it’s not
like he was doing this on some kind of impulse.
This would be horrible enough. But it comes after a long,
all too long, series of murders of other black people, mostly by white people
in positions of power. Ferguson is the best known of these. Yes, mental illness
apparently played a role in this case. But it’s so much more comfortable for most
white people to talk about mental illness than about race, and we can’t let
this event slide off into an easier discussion of one single issue. It’s about
mental illness, yes, and about gun control, both very crucial issues. But race
appears to be the biggest motivator when the shooter is alleged to have said “You
rape our women and are taking over our country”.
I’m going to write about race, because to be silent any
longer is to be an accomplice to genocide. I know why many white people are
silent. It’s because we’re afraid of putting our foot in our mouth. We want to
say the right thing. We don’t want to hurt anyone. We want to appear
enlightened. We want to be liked. We want to say things like ‘I’m colorblind’
or ‘Race doesn’t matter’. But enlightenment takes work. I’m going to put myself
out there no matter what frogs will pop out of my mouth (and feel free to point
them out to me) and talk about some of the things I believe when it comes to
race.
(I’m going to talk about racism against blacks specifically in
this post, but much of what I say is applicable to other people of color.)
1. I believe you can’t and shouldn’t be colorblind. Color
matters, and it’s part of your history, part of your identity. You may not
attach a lot of significance to race, but you’d better believe the black person
you are looking at has suffered because of it, and in such a case, it’s an
insult to say you’re colorblind. It means you’re not recognizing the oppression
and suffering that person may have endured – whether or not you were the cause
of it.
2. I believe people are biologically prone to noticing
differences. Our ancestors needed to be able to discern who belonged to their
own tribe and who was an enemy. I believe we still have this reaction. I feel a
kind of shock whenever I see a very black person. I don’t think I should be
ashamed of this. What I SHOULD be ashamed of is if that reaction leads me to
treat that person as less than human. If you grow up among people of many
different races, it’s possible you don’t feel that shock – but I didn’t. I grew
up in a very white area and had a grandmother in Cleveland, which is the only
place I ever saw black people. She would pull me close to her side if we were
walking down the street and a black person was approaching, and she would
always say something about ‘coloreds’ afterwards. Grandma’s reaction is
probably in my hard wiring.
Let’s be honest about our ‘biological racism’ – if we have
it – while at the same time acknowledging the damage it can do if it isn’t
admitted and dealt with in a sane and rational matter rather than by concealing
it behind platitudes.
3. I believe white privilege exists, and it exists whether
you live among black people or not, and it matters whether you live among black
people or not. I’ve heard this reaction: “White privilege? I’m on welfare. I am
not privileged.” Well, yes, you are privileged if you have white skin, at least
in the US. You can walk into a grocery store and find the hair products you
need. Your children see people that look like them on television all the time.
Etc. You can Google ‘white privilege’ to get the whole list. Stop thinking you’re
not privileged. You are.
4. I believe white people should go through some
race-sensitivity training, whether they think they need it or not. (And I assume
people of color need it as well, but that’s not my business.) I didn’t think I
needed it. But I did. I was fortunate to be a public-school teacher for seven
years, where diversity training is mandatory. I started out smirking at it. After
all, I’m a smart woman with a Yale PhD. I’m empathetic and thoughtful. What
could these administrators teach me just because they are people of color? Oh,
my face is so red thinking about that misguided feeling of superiority.
But I learned so much. This is the one that changed my life
in terms of understanding racial equity issues: http://www.edequityoregon.com/equity-3/taking-it-up/.
There are many more out there.
In this particular training, we were put into small groups,
and each one was led by a person of color. Our guide was trying to tell us that
Arnold Schwarzenegger was probably from a black family because of his last
name, and of course I was seething about that. I focused on that bit of
misinformation to convince myself that this guy didn’t know what he was talking
about. But then. We got to ask any question we wanted. The one that was burning
in my mind was this: “I go through these trainings and feel like I’m the
accused without having done anything just because I’m white. Why don’t you just
TELL me what to say and do?” This lovely man, with infinite kindness and
patience, said, “Why is that my job?”
Wow. Imagine that: you are a black person with a bunch of
white friends. Imagine that your friendship consisted not of engaging in
activities you all enjoy but of being constantly asked by your well-meaning white
friends, “Does that hurt black people?” And these well-meaning white friends
are thinking, “Aren’t I a nice and considerate friend?” Imagine having to work
24 hours a day at being THE representative for all black people, everywhere,
who obviously would have one and only one reaction to any given stimulus. No.
That’s not what friendship is. Friendship is the white people figuring out how
to make the black friend feel part of the group without asking for
instructions, and seeing that person as their friend, with individual quirks
and feelings, not the representative of all blacks everywhere.
Which brings up another anecdote, told by the diversity
studies teacher at our school. He was in the grocery store one day and, I kid
you not, a man came up to him to ask for his help in picking out a watermelon.
This teacher patiently told the man what to look for, and afterwards asked him
if he understood what he had just done. The white man seemed clueless. However,
the teacher said that although his first impulse was to clock the guy, he
decided to use it as a teachable moment. Hopefully the white guy left the
conversation knowing more than just how to pick a good watermelon. So black
friends can tell you a lot – but don’t put them in the role of constant
teacher.
5. I believe white people need to help end racism no matter
where they are or how much contact they have with black people. White people
have had economic, social, political, and every other kind of advantage for
hundreds of years in the US. We can’t now say “Oh, but the laws have eliminated
discrimination.” or “Affirmative action is reverse racism.” or “I have a lot of
friends of different colors.” We need to be active allies to help make up for
those hundreds of years. We need to talk about race, read what black writers
have to say, follow the news, donate to organizations like the Southern Poverty
Law Center or the ACLU or whatever your research tells you is best. We need to
stop tiptoeing around, afraid of offending people and speak our hearts, humbly
and with receptivity to being corrected and contradicted. We have to do this
now. There is so much to worry about in the world – the environment above all,
but also unrest in Russia and North Korea and the Middle East – to be killing our
fellow citizens and widening the race gulf is suicide. It doesn’t matter if you live
in a very white area of the US. This is your issue, too.
There it is – my imperfect ‘credo’ on racism. I’m a
middle-aged white woman with few black friends, woefully ignorant in so many ways. My blind
spots are many, but I’m willing to work towards enlightenment. And I’m grateful
for the graciousness and patience of people of color who have helped me along
the way.
I still have to figure out what I’m doing living in perhaps
the whitest country in the world when I’m a white American and an ally to blacks.
I promise I will do my best to figure that out.
© 2015 Kathy Saranpa
