I was born male with white skin, grew up in a white culture, and have lived in a largely white world. Not until I went to college did I have more than cursory contact with someone with black skin. Once there, and finding myself in a much more diverse environment, I developed a close friendship with a black male. I enjoyed our relationship very much and it validated my belief that I was neither prejudiced nor racist. However, that experience did nothing to reduce my racial ignorance.Oh sure, my liberal heart would ache for the plight of those who were disenfranchised in our society when the images were served in front of me on television, but most of my life was consumed with reaching life goals that being white had made much easier to accomplish.
As a white male, I was not confronted with the daily trials and tribulations that people of color in this country have to face. I could walk down a street without feeling the eyes of judgment from those I passed. I could walk through a store without someone following me to make sure I didn’t steal anything. I could get a loan to buy a house and a find a job that would pay for it. That money would allow me to live in a safe neighborhood, get a good education, buy nutritious food, obtain good health care, drink clean water, and open up all kinds of opportunities to create a life that I desired.
I was grateful for those opportunities and felt no guilt for taking advantage of them. After all, America was the land of opportunity, and pursuing a version of the American dream had been woven into the very fabric of my being. With numerous resources and opportunities available to me, I felt great pressure to set goals and to reach them. Although that created much stress for me, the privilege of being white afforded me options unavailable to people of color. It’s supremely difficult to maintain hope and to stoke motivation in the face of reduced opportunities. Many times I have heard the phrase, “they just need to pull themselves up by their bootstraps.” But you know, to do that, you have to have some bootstraps. You have to have the resources available so that positive steps can be taken.
Am I a racist? That question stings when I hear it because it doesn’t resonate with my belief and my truest knowing that we are all equally important. We are all a part of One. The voice in my head counters that question by reminding me that I have always been kind and loving to people of color. So, no, I am not racist in my actions.
However, I have been “whitewashed,” ignorant of the many levels where racism exists in this country and the world. I have been blind to the powerful financial, legal, and governmental systems that keep white people in power (mostly males). That makes me an enabler of racism.
Enablers are people who tolerate and contribute to the continued existence of toxic conditions. Someone who enables an alcoholic can have loving intentions, but their actions continue to support the dysfunctional drinker. In effect, they become part of the problem because they are propping up the alcoholic by excusing him/her and looking the other way. I am learning that I support racism by not speaking up when I see it or not confronting someone when they tell a racist joke. I support it by not watching documentaries that could inform me and educate me. I support it by willfully staying blind to the many ways that society disenfranchises people of color.
Because our society is still very much segregated, it’s easy for white people to remain ignorant—to look the other way. However, when we do that, we enable a corrupt and unfair system through our silence and our unwillingness to see. We cling to the illusion that we can all “make it” if we only put in the effort. But that’s like putting 30 extra pounds on a horse in the derby and expecting that horse to win. It doesn’t and it can’t. Many times I have heard the phrase, “they need to pull themselves up by their bootstraps.” But you know, to do that, you have to have some bootstraps. You have to have the resources available so that positive steps can be taken.
We only have to open our eyes to see the stark reality for people of color in this country. The mass incarcerations of black males over the last 30 years, largely for drug offenses, have decimated family systems. These men are removed from society, can’t vote, and placed in the most abusive environment on the planet. Meanwhile, the single mothers left behind, working low wage jobs with few resources at their disposal, are ill equipped to provide an environment that gives their children anything close to the footing that most white families enjoy. Segregated by neighborhoods and confronted daily by the realities of being black in a white man’s world, many young people of color become prey to depression and delinquency.
It’s not possible for a white person to understand the black experience in our society. But I’m going to ask you to do an experiment with me. This exercise takes courage, because you it asks you to view things from a different perspective. I dare you to do it with an open heart and mind for once you see something new, you can’t un-see it.
First, I want you to close your eyes. Close your eyes and imagine that the world of color is flipped. Imagine that America is literally filled with people of color and that white people are in the minority. Imagine walking into a grocery store and only seeing 4 or 5 people with white skin, like yourself. Imagine going to college where 95% of the students are people of color. Feel the daily pain of going into a retail store and being scrutinized for fear that you are going to steal something. Allow yourself to feel the fear of being pulled over by a black cop, frisked, and questioned simply because you looked “suspicious.” What would it be like to be consistently turned down for business loans or to not be called back for job interviews? Would you not suspect it was because of your race? But how could you prove it?
If you did the above exercise in earnest, then you gave yourself a gift—a gift of perspective. It is almost impossible for those of us who are white to see the world through the eyes of minorities, but we can try. And when we try, our hearts and minds can begin to open. Compassion can replace judgment. Being informed can replace ignorance. Love can replace fear.
I do not feel guilty for being white, but the reality is that I have been privileged because of my white skin. I don’t need to apologize for it, but I need to recognize it and not deny it.
Our demographics are changing. Although America still feels very “white,” the reality is that only 63% of the people in this country now are white and that percentage is dropping. There is great resistance from those in power to remain so. Using their legal, financial, and governmental power, they seek to keep a stranglehold on what has been. But thankfully, that is beginning to change. People across the world in large numbers are saying, “no.”
Black Lives Matter goes far beyond being treated fairly by our police force. It’s much larger than that. The entire system of privilege based on skin color must change if black lives matter—for until they do, we can’t say “all lives matter.” I salute those around the world who are peacefully marching to the beat of that drum.
A more equitable world can be created. We are all One. Let’s support a world that reflects that Oneness!