This was a week of reckoning with the soul-crushing racism and authoritative brutality that continues to exist in society. I won't even limit it to American society, because England was even more openly and vocally racist the last two times I visited. The difference in England is that their racists and police officers are less likely to kill their citizens or immigrants because violence is not an acceptable part of their culture. Whereas Americans continue to glorify violence through widespread military use, gun ownership, physically violent sports, and acceptance of police brutality.
Even though Black Eyed Peas made this song 10 years ago, it's still as relevant as ever.
An eyewitness video of George Floyd losing his breath and his life to a police officer kneeling on his neck for 8min 46sec grabbed the world by the heart and refused to let go. I still begin crying just thinking about the brutality and heartlessness of that moment, and how these images are often hidden, deleted, silenced, and swept under the rug where no other eyewitnesses are present and recording the disgusting behavior of an openly racist and violent person. This came after also seeing an eye-witness account of Ahmaud Arbery being shot while running in a neighborhood and having done nothing wrong. The senselessness of this violence that came with an attitude of white superiority and righteousness lifted the veil of our collective illusions and gave us a window into the hatred and heartlessness that continues to exist in society. The world took to the streets in protest, and then our racist president tried to eliminate and silence those protests in DC with tear gas and rubber bullets for a publicity stunt.
Those recorded moments crushed my soul and millions of other souls as well. We all heard these things had been happening, but as white people, we are often insulated from seeing it first hand. Things like this don't generally happen in our presence. Micro-aggressions or racist comments might happen - but this kind of brutality was something many of us had been blind too until the moment it reached our personal friend-feeds playing the eyewitness videos. These were so heartless and spirit-breaking that the world collectively decided we just couldn't take this anymore. We couldn't keep allowing people like this to stay in positions of power, we needed to rally to make larger changes.
My form of rallying, without showing up for a protest, was to black out my social media images and then to share stories in my Instagram stories and on my Facebook wall from my darker skinned friends who were sharing tons of great perspectives and resources that resonated strongly in the moment with calls to actions and discussions on how white people can be better allies of support.
I needed people to see my friends as I see them- full of heart, passion, and desire for recognition and justice in a time when they have so often felt silenced and dismissed. I wanted to amplify their voices during a time when people were FINALLY ready to listen to a perspective outside of their own bubble. I won't know if my efforts made a difference, but my hope is that it collectively connected many more people who had not previously been connected, and through that connection, we may begin understanding each other better and expanding the larger worldview and perspective on society as it resonates and reacts to all people, not just white privileged people. Even with all of the evidence that this violence is simply unacceptable, there were STILL people who focused on the property destruction caused by looters who were not there to protest, but there to take advantage of a movement in order to create more chaos and destruction that would fall on the backs of protestors.
At the end of this week, I find myself like many of my fellow Americans, frustrated, sad, grieving, angry, and passionate about wanting to create change at all levels of society. I have had no problem standing between a black man and a white racist, using my white female privilege to do so- and I have taken that action on a couple occasions- and witnessed the power of how it made a difference in the entire room, and helped rally more allies to shut down racism in communities. Yet, there are also still times when I have failed to find the words in time to make a difference, or I have failed to show up as a support system when I didn't know what I could do to help. All we can do is keep trying, keep learning, and keep aiming to be better people. The dance of this week has been one of trying to be supportive without backing down, while also facing all of these tough and soul-crushing emotions. Yet this is the work that black activists have been engaged in for CENTURIES. Showing up in these moments takes strength and courage, and those muscles and instincts only really get a chance to be flexed when things get tough. I am so grateful for my friends of color who help me understand what more I can do and how I can be supportive.
As I sit here in Michigan, from my computer, quarantined for the 84th day - I have no desire to protest, but if I did, I would be rallying with Jon Batiste in Union Square NYC for a musical movement for peace. Instead, I bought his latest album of Meditations, a collaboration with Cory Wong, to help support his call for peace and healing through music and have been playing it on repeat all morning long.
Even though Black Eyed Peas made this song 10 years ago, it's still as relevant as ever.
An eyewitness video of George Floyd losing his breath and his life to a police officer kneeling on his neck for 8min 46sec grabbed the world by the heart and refused to let go. I still begin crying just thinking about the brutality and heartlessness of that moment, and how these images are often hidden, deleted, silenced, and swept under the rug where no other eyewitnesses are present and recording the disgusting behavior of an openly racist and violent person. This came after also seeing an eye-witness account of Ahmaud Arbery being shot while running in a neighborhood and having done nothing wrong. The senselessness of this violence that came with an attitude of white superiority and righteousness lifted the veil of our collective illusions and gave us a window into the hatred and heartlessness that continues to exist in society. The world took to the streets in protest, and then our racist president tried to eliminate and silence those protests in DC with tear gas and rubber bullets for a publicity stunt.
Those recorded moments crushed my soul and millions of other souls as well. We all heard these things had been happening, but as white people, we are often insulated from seeing it first hand. Things like this don't generally happen in our presence. Micro-aggressions or racist comments might happen - but this kind of brutality was something many of us had been blind too until the moment it reached our personal friend-feeds playing the eyewitness videos. These were so heartless and spirit-breaking that the world collectively decided we just couldn't take this anymore. We couldn't keep allowing people like this to stay in positions of power, we needed to rally to make larger changes.
My form of rallying, without showing up for a protest, was to black out my social media images and then to share stories in my Instagram stories and on my Facebook wall from my darker skinned friends who were sharing tons of great perspectives and resources that resonated strongly in the moment with calls to actions and discussions on how white people can be better allies of support.
I needed people to see my friends as I see them- full of heart, passion, and desire for recognition and justice in a time when they have so often felt silenced and dismissed. I wanted to amplify their voices during a time when people were FINALLY ready to listen to a perspective outside of their own bubble. I won't know if my efforts made a difference, but my hope is that it collectively connected many more people who had not previously been connected, and through that connection, we may begin understanding each other better and expanding the larger worldview and perspective on society as it resonates and reacts to all people, not just white privileged people. Even with all of the evidence that this violence is simply unacceptable, there were STILL people who focused on the property destruction caused by looters who were not there to protest, but there to take advantage of a movement in order to create more chaos and destruction that would fall on the backs of protestors.
At the end of this week, I find myself like many of my fellow Americans, frustrated, sad, grieving, angry, and passionate about wanting to create change at all levels of society. I have had no problem standing between a black man and a white racist, using my white female privilege to do so- and I have taken that action on a couple occasions- and witnessed the power of how it made a difference in the entire room, and helped rally more allies to shut down racism in communities. Yet, there are also still times when I have failed to find the words in time to make a difference, or I have failed to show up as a support system when I didn't know what I could do to help. All we can do is keep trying, keep learning, and keep aiming to be better people. The dance of this week has been one of trying to be supportive without backing down, while also facing all of these tough and soul-crushing emotions. Yet this is the work that black activists have been engaged in for CENTURIES. Showing up in these moments takes strength and courage, and those muscles and instincts only really get a chance to be flexed when things get tough. I am so grateful for my friends of color who help me understand what more I can do and how I can be supportive.
As I sit here in Michigan, from my computer, quarantined for the 84th day - I have no desire to protest, but if I did, I would be rallying with Jon Batiste in Union Square NYC for a musical movement for peace. Instead, I bought his latest album of Meditations, a collaboration with Cory Wong, to help support his call for peace and healing through music and have been playing it on repeat all morning long.
