Did I get your attention with the title of my post? Learned it from the media…
Earlier today, I was walking the dogs in the backyard and my kids were hanging out on the porch steps. We all of a sudden heard someone humming, singing, and making silly noises on the side street next to our yard. We couldn't see and I’d never heard this voice before and there are only two houses at the end of this street. At the end, however, there’s a path that serves as a major cut-through to the beach.
Eventually, he came into view. It was a black man just joyfully walking down the street. My heart sank. My first thought was of how brave he was to simply walk down the street, especially while drawing a good amount of attention to himself. Wasn’t he scared? How sad that that’s where my mind first went. The man started singing about us playing in the backyard and asked how we were doing. The kids giggled. It was funny and refreshing, a rarity these days.
How are we doing?! How are YOU doing, sir? How are you doing in a country whose institutionalized racism is seeping, pouring, through yet another tragic crack in its surface, the brutal killing of George Floyd? How are you doing in a country so divided by race and class, with racial oppression inherent in its government agencies, educational system, and criminal justice system? How are you doing in a country where the media has completely failed to even give you a chance at a positive portrayal; a media who repeatedly showed two scenes after Hurricane Katrina’s devastation: one of a black man “looting” a grocery store and one of a white couple “finding food” at a similar store? How are you doing in a country where it’s harder for you than a person with less melanin to go for a run on the street or watch birds in the park, never mind get a mortgage? How are you doing in a country where those who have been sworn in to protect you have taken opportunities to kill you instead?
I took a course in grad school called “Power, Privilege, and Oppression.” It was a call to understand your own story. For me, it was privilege. It’s an ongoing process and it was quite a journey to do this next to others who were examining their oppression. The professor was a brilliant scholar who specialized in Crisis and Disaster Counseling. She travels the world after disasters and helps those who have been traumatized, many of whom are disenfranchised. She told us something I will never forget. She challenged the idea that America is a “melting pot.” Remember that phrase? Yeah, well it’s bullshit. She said we are not a melting pot because “some people don’t melt.” I'd go so far as to say that no one melts.
Privilege says we can all melt together. Privilege says “I am colorblind.” Privilege says “I’m not racist.” Privilege left in the subconscious is oppression to another. Privilege doesn’t see.
I don’t blame anyone for it, but stop telling that "colorblind" story. It's ignorant. Get a grip on your whiteness. We need to see color. We need to see black, white, rainbows, and everything in between.
Before the guy had completely passed us this morning, he said, “have a great day!” I wanted to hug him. I wanted to show him my tears. I wanted to tell him that I see his skin color. I wanted to tell him that I will never invalidate him by ignoring the difference between our skin colors. I wanted to promise him that I'd never assume that our stories and backgrounds would just blend together in sameness. I wanted to tell him that I’m sorry and ashamed. I just looked at him and said, “you, too.”
