BLM
First I want to say, I feel a lot of trepidation against being another white person adding opinion into a conversation where I think I should be listening and learning. But, taking things seriously, not dismissing them-but sitting with them and letting them seep into your being often leads to introspection. An intake and an output.
I’ve been privy to some interesting conversations in the past couple of days. I’ve been rolling over my past actions and I keep playing back past conversations in my head. I’ve seen people of all ages and backgrounds walking side-by-side asking for transparency and justice.
This isn’t about photography. Although, it touches me deeply to hear that a client chose me to be their photographer because my portfolio shows diverse beauty. It had better show that. In fact, I want a MORE diverse spectrum to be my visual brand.
So, yes, this seems like a personal opinion post and it’s possible you think I should keep this separate from my business. I’d put money on the fact that if you think that, you’re just someone who disagrees with my POV. But this is who I am, so I’m okay posting this.
The past week, I’ve remembered:
Being in the car with a former friend’s mom who was actively complaining about Colin Kaepernick’s silent kneeling protest which was ongoing at the time. Speaking of the civil right’s movement of the 60’s she said, “We already had to live through this!”
Ouch. That was uncomfortable.
Her tone was exasperated as she described this as a hardship and inconvenience that was apparently somehow impacting her life? Her rich, white, suburban business owner life…
I don’t remember what I said, but I tried to engage respectfully before her daughter shut the conversation down.
At the time, I didn’t know how to navigate a conversation between the argument of “disrespecting the flag” and using your platform to make a statement against police brutality.*
I remember riding in the car with a former boyfriend, I got passionate talking about race and inequality… I don’t remember the specific details, but I remember talking about the experiences of humans outside of our white privilege. And I remember the dismissive response.
“Slavery was a long time ago. How long do we have to take responsibility for that?”
“Everyone has equal opportunities now.”
“I don’t think it’s really an issue of race anymore.”
Somewhere there’s a disconnect between understanding that while you live in the present world and you’re not a slave owner, the impact and the ongoing injustice hasn’t disappeared. This defense is one I’ve heard repeatedly-a pervasive dismissive response to other people’s experiences and hardships.
Ask any member of a group that has ever been marginalized (various minorities, indigenous people, women, LGBTQ+ etc) and they will instantly be able to share how they presently experience not just remnants – a few coals still barely golden from the fire of oppression - but visceral impacts of the systems of thought and action set up to keep their “group” pinned down. The systems are pervasive and still alive. They are often just quieter than was formally acceptable. But, closeting something doesn’t make it go away.
I remember a family member whom I love dearly telling me, “that’s just how they talk”. Asserting that black people were prone to more “dirty language”.
No.
I remember the look of shock and humor on my dear friend’s face, several years ago, as I innocently asked her (I’m so embarrassed to even say this), if she experienced racism. I immediately realized how stupid that question even was - of course she does. Even though my asking was prompted out of my realization that I should be learning more from the people of color in my life, my approach shined a huge light on my ignorance.
There was my privilege again.
I remember being asked, “Are you sure you’re not part African-American in there somewhere?” by a complete stranger who was questioning the origins of my curly hair. I’m thankful for my hair. Even though it’s never really reached traditional beauty standards.
I remember meeting a Phoenix-based black model and instantly connected over the pervasive societal messaging around having sleek hair which is sometimes communicated at you in a personal and intimate way.
In no way am I claiming to understand or have experienced even an ounce of the racism that undergirds everyday interactions with those with a dark complexion, all I am saying is that I was able to relate instantly when this woman told me of boys who have said she should “straighten her hair more frequently” in order to increase her attractiveness. I’ve been told that too from men and women.
I want to relate. I want to find common ground with all humans. BUT, I think it is VITAL to comprehend that we can no longer stand comfortable inside of our privilege and say “all our experiences are equal and the same”. This IS a dismissal. I can connect with another woman on our shared experiences stemming from western female beauty standards. But I would be ignorant to assume that I know what it’s like to walk around and function – to live – as a person of color in this country.
I realize that everything I’ve said pales in comparison to seeing brutality outright inflicted on someone you love.
I realize that my black friends have probably witnessed others treating me better than them in public spaces – and I was blind to it. Privilege.
A note on privilege - it seems some who carry this “privilege” want to make it a dirty word. They want to say it’s an attempt to make them feel guilty or like they “owe” something to people of color. I believe we should view privilege as exactly what the word says - a privilege - and with privilege SHOULD come a sense of care. We should leverage our positions for the good of all. My privilege is a platform, and if I have a platform and I truly see others as equals, my privilege bequeaths me with a responsibility to use my platform to fight for that equality where it does not currently exist in the system. Also the efforts to fix systemic issues don’t always work perfectly, it’s a process. So if you’re a white person struggling with this concept - before you get up-in-arms about affirmative action - or whatever your talking point is - I would ask you to be open, rather than defensive. Take a look at our history and the context that has led us to current events.
I’m still remembering other uncomfortable remarks that have been made by family members regarding people of color – their actions, their businesses etc, that I won’t repeat. I want to say they made such statements out of innocence and ignorance. That “they don’t know any better” and they are “too sheltered”.
But this ignorance is the problem - excusing it becomes another dismissal. We are comfortable and we want to hold on to being comfortable. We haven’t always viewed BLACK ISSUES as HUMAN ISSUES.
That’s why in these moments, we say “Black Lives Matter” not “all lives matter” because there is massive evidence to show the disproportionate opportunities and unequal treatment given to people of color in this nation.
If you are a person wanting to champion “all lives matter”, There are SO many metaphors to show why this is hurtful! The most intimate one I’ve heard is, think of a parent grieving the loss of their child and sharing about how special that child was at their funeral only to have someone come up and say, “Don’t you know all children are special?”
IT’S DISMISSIVE.
As long as white people are okay with being dismissive and skirting the issues. I’m confident we will not propel the true change we need.
For years:
I didn’t realize the birther movement was racist.
I didn’t realize that minorities had been systematically relegated to living in the “inner cities” that were then equated with drug dealing and violence.
I didn’t know that the “mass fatherlessness” that I grew up hearing talked about as “pervasive among minorities” was due in large part to a skewed “war on drugs” and mass incarceration.
I didn’t realize so much.
Because I didn’t have to.
My friend’s mom didn’t have to.
My ex didn’t have to.
And that is the perfect picture of our privilege.
No one had to sit me down and
warn me about my privilege.
I just got to live.
Even now, if you don’t want to, you don’t have to face any of this.
You can focus on saying, “but, do you even know why George Floyd was arrested?”, or other things about other victims of poor policing and police brutality that I won’t even type out here that have been said to me this past week.
You can skirt the issues, OR you can choose to educate yourself on the history of policing in our nation, the privatization and capitalism of our prison system, the silence from the highest office in the land – the list could go on.
You can stay comfortable. But I hope you get uncomfortable.
There are so many people who are further along in their journey of being an ally and while I can’t remember ever acting or thinking in a blatantly racist manner or ever believing people were less valuable or less human because of the color of their skin, I’ve certainly had inadvertent biases. I know I have.
There are people I know who struggle to even admit that we have a problem of systemic racism or that we all have underlying biases or exhibit microaggressions. If we tout open-mindlessness, we must be willing to examine ourselves, we must be able to take different perspectives into account. And let those perspectives actually COUNT.
The reality is that no one gets it right all the time. Humans are not caricatures, we are deep and insightful and broken and full of blind spots. Change is always uncomfortable.
But, I’m tired of being told that we are having the “wrong conversation” so that we can stay in our bunkers.
I want to be here to learn.
To my white folks, still struggling with this and wanting to stay comfortable in your bunkers, I want to say, I believe that listening to someone else’s struggle and choosing to be an ally doesn’t discount your story or your hardships. Hearing that people of color are oppressed should not offend you, it should make your ears perk up.
Those who have been muzzled for a long time, have to find a way to speak. I want to amplify their voices and hear from them.
We are not going to get it right all the time.
I’m not going to get it right all the time.
But, twenty years from now I want to say that I listened, I voted, I took more time to be humble and uncomfortable, and that I showed up.