BLACK LIVES MATTER
I thought that I made my stance on this clear in a post I wrote like 5 years ago, but based on my social media friends list, apparently I should have been more explicit.
BLACK. LIVES. MATTER.
I know, I know -- you grew up poor; you had a rough family life; your parents had a nasty divorce; you suffered childhood trauma; you had addicts in the family; you were an addict; you or family members were arrested for crimes both petty and major; AND YET, you pulled yourself up by your bootstraps to make something of your life -- and you are mad and don't believe that you have any privilege or bias as a result. HOW DARE anyone try to dismiss YOUR hardships and accuse you of privilege? Your life has been anything BUT privileged, and these snotty little kids should shut up and observe their history, lest they repeat it.
Well, SURPRISE! I am a white, middle-aged, professional middle-class woman with a husband and a house who experienced all of the above. Some of those situations were really bad; like really, REALLY bad, and I am happy to swap stories and compare mental scars with anyone who asks. Still, NONE of the situations I have faced were made more difficult by my being white.
Do you believe that yours were? I ask becauae the majority of the stories I have seen saying that you were persecuted are that you, a white child, had a Black friend from school and had to walk through a diverse (non-white majority) neighborhood to visit them at their home while being stared, whispered or gestured at. I know it is uncomfortable to recall, but remember how targeted you felt during that time? Your heart rate probably picked up, you probably started sweating, you wondered if you were going to be approached by someone who thought you didn't belong in this place and that you were going to be harmed simply for being there to see your friend from school.
Does that sound right? I promise; I am not judging. I have felt that way, too.
Now, imagine that, instead of every time you went to visit that neighborhood, you had that feeling every single time you left YOUR neighborhood. Wouldn't you be scared? Wouldn't you be constantly on edge? Wouldn't you feel like a second-class citizen?
That is the reality that Black people, and Indigenous people, and other People of Color deal with every time they step outside of their homes and *designated* neighborhoods. Walking their kids to school or the playground to run off their energy and finally take a flippin' nap. Running to the store because they're out of seltzer and who really drinks eight cups per say of regular water. Commuting to work to do experiments at their lab bench so that maybe we can cure something someday. Sitting on their steps and making awkward small talk with their neighbors.
Do these situations sound familiar?
Have you ever felt that your life was in danger (and I mean *really think* -- you might have been scared in a situation, but was it because you were actually threatened and felt that your safety was in jeopardy), or that you might be stopped by the police, on your own property, in your own home, in your neighborhood or another very public place, while minding your business, *SOLELY* because you were white?
If your answer is no, then I ask you to be honest with yourself and count how many times you have felt that way. Remember, I am asking about times in your own or a friend's neighborhood, not even during adventures in "sketchy" places.
Is it less than 5?
Is it less than 15?
Is it less than 50?
I know my experience hovers in the 5-10ish range.
Is that surprising?
It shouldn't be, because while I absolutely felt scared that in the moment, I realized how ludicrous it was for me to have felt that way without experience. And then I met my *diverse* neighbors and realized they were much more welcoming, nice and normal than I had anticipated.
That realization? The ability to dig deep and realize that even though I was *WILDLY* uncomfortable in my surroundings, but there was minimal threat that I would be raped or maimed or killed just because of my skin color, and I could relax among people who did not look like me?
THAT is white privilege.
Not an easy realization, is it? I know that I fight against it every single day, only to eventually put myself in the shoes of a BIPOC person and realize that not only would I not want to be treated the way that non-white people are in society, but I would be horrified if I were judged and sentenced in accordance with the relative number of criminals who share my skin color's sins. Yet it happens over and over every single day to non-white people.
I don't really know how to end these thoughts, other than to say if any of this has struck a chord in you in which you would actually like to learn more, please comment and I will do what I can to direct you toward resources.
