In the past few weeks, I’ve been a bit quiet lately on social media and “off” my blogging schedule. There has been so much on my heart and mind – that I had to take the time to pause and reflect and sort out the complicated feelings and thoughts.
I don’t know that I’m quite done with this process (or that it can ever be “done”), but for me, I need to start getting it out of my head, and my outlet is writing.
Let me start authentically.
I forced myself to watch the death of George Floyd last week.
I felt like setting aside my privilege and facing the atrocity of racism head on was the very least I could do for my Black friends, who have had to be traumatized over and over again.
The first overwhelming feeling I had was a deep sadness in solidarity with Black mothers.
Something within my core reacted instinctively when George Floyd cried out for his mama as he took his last breaths.
The bright smiles of several of my beloved friends’ children flashed through my mind.
How could someone so callously and heartlessly extinguish another human being’s life – a life that was once someone’s entire world?
The second overwhelming feeling I’ve had is guilt and shame.
Why, you may ask?
Because almost four years ago, when we were outraged about Alton Sterling and Philandro Castile, I apologized to my friends for my historical silence on social media. Instead of speaking up, I hid behind silence to avoid conflict, not realizing that silence itself can be complicity.
And yet despite that awakening and my slow journey to wokedom, I feel guilty because speaking up (especially just on social media) is not enough.
So in my usual “do as I say and not as I have failed” style – don’t buy into these lies that I used to tell myself.
Lie No. 1: If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.
I am not sure if it’s because I’m a member of the “silent minority” or if it’s because I’ve been mostly raised in the South, but part of why I didn’t speak up much was because I’ve been taught to be nice, to be polite – and conditioned not to offend others with contrary views on anything, but especially religion and politics.
When you don’t say much, the people around you automatically assume that you are like them, and they like you (because they assume that you are like them).
And if I were to be completely honest, I think I learned this as a way to assimilate, to be accepted.
But here’s some truth from Dr. King:
“In the end we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.”
He also said, “There comes a time when silence is betrayal.”
That’s when the guilt hits me – that not saying anything is complicity because it affirms status quo. That those injured by racism are even more insulted when the people they consider their friends don’t show up for them as they should. That yes, speaking up on social media is a start, but without action, it is merely performative.
Lie No. 2: It’s none of my business.
I wonder if this lie for me stems from being first generation — meaning we had our own fights to fight. In other words, “Ain’t nobody got time for that,” because I’ve got my own problems and issues to address.
It could also stem from being Other in the dichotomy of Black & White America. Not fitting in either. Not being seen or heard. Does Miscellaneous even have a say?
Casting those aside, the truth is –systemic racism is my business.
It’s my business because Black mamas shouldn’t have to fear for or mourn the lives of their children simply because of the color of their skin. It’s my business because I want a better world for our children. It’s my business because I love my country and I want it to actualize into all that it has promised to be.
At the end of the day, when you filter through all the noise, the question is when you watched how George Floyd died, was that ok?
And if you, like me, shouted at the video as if it were a movie, “No! No!” over and over while feeling all the outrage and disgust and shame and sadness – then systemic racism is your business.
Lie No. 3: I am only one person
A lie that I’ve told myself in the past is that I am only one person and my ability to effectuate change is small. There are other similar excuses.
- I don’t know what to do.
- I don’t have any power.
- I don’t want to get it wrong.
Don’t buy into this lie.
Because the truth is that movements often start with one person, a single idea.
Because a single voice can be amplified under the right conditions.
Because protests are made more impactful with each and every single one of those individuals who join.
Need more proof of the power of one?
- Just recently, a Missouri woman persuaded Merriam-Webster Dictionary to update the definition of racism.
- And one driver’s voice resulted in no more confederate flags being displayed by NASCAR.
More importantly, is there any better alternative?
“Action is the antidote to guilt.”
-Robin DiAngelo
Indeed.
