Friday, June 5, 2020

Things That Need to be Said

Like many people, I've been shocked and horrified as I watch the news unfold over the last week. I'm not surprised. This country has been heading for this for a long time. Several of my favorite bloggers have written posts recently that convey their shock, despair, and stance much better than I will, but I still want to add another tiny voice to the crowd.

I grew up in Maryland. My family moved their from Northern Virginia when I was 5. While I can't say much about what it was like growing up in VA, I learned quite a bit growing up in Maryland.

MD is obsessed with being "neither North, nor South", and how they saw both sides of the Civil War as "brother literally turned against brother".

But education was definitely geared towards the Lost Cause, and heavily favored excusing and sympathizing with the South. Since our county had several areas important during the war, and our close proximity to Gettysburg, we studied the Civil War every. single. year. 

Mostly we learned that the south were really just good guys that didn't want to be bullied by the evil jerkface North. Those northern assholes were really terrible. The South was a great place. Slavery was a teeny tiny reason for the War, and that was stressed heavily. Very few men owned slaves, and of course, the ones that did treated them like long lost sons. Etc.

Even as a child I knew that was wrong. I don't know how. I wasn't terribly studious. My dad is a Civil War buff that favors the South. The area I lived in was steeped in low key racism. But I knew what I was being taught wasn't right.

The area I lived in was a more rural area than nearby Baltimore. I think there were only 3 Black students when I was in high school, out of maybe 1,500 students. I don't think I knew a single Black person when I was young.

But oh, boy, we were racist. I remember my dad chuckling awkwardly the first time we drove past Coon Club Road. He wouldn't explain why, but I've learned that's his "this is funny but I know it's racist af" laugh. I heard often of "those people" that live off handouts because they're lazy and wont get a job, and how they live better than us white people who work hard for what we have. I heard this in seventh grade in class.

I heard whispers and rumors and jokes that I didn't understand. Well. I understand them now. At the time they made me uncomfortable but I didn't really understand them and I didn't know what to do. I heard people tell their neighbors the better not sell their house to "those people" and ruin their "good neighborhood".

As I grow older and more aware and learn about how the world really is, the easier it is to see how deeply inbedded racism is in this county. It's insidious. We might all smile at church and say we're not racist because we have "a Black friend", but damn...that racism comes right out after a beer or two. Or when telling jokes with friends. Family Thanksgiving dinner. When POC appear in our white spaces. It's so easy to scratch off that thin veneer of acceptance.

I remember a few years ago during the Baltimore riots. I read what my friends posted on Facebook. It was disgusted. They never once even tried to find out what might have been behind them. It was just BLACK PEOPLE BAD, DESTROY THEIR OWN HOMES. Why people might have decided to do what they did. They were so angry that Black people would dare act out in any way. Hadn't we given them everything?! How dare they complain - those lazy bastards that live off our tax dollars. And on and on.

After a while, I gave up trying to explain and just unfriended people that I never knew that so much hatred and racism in their hearts.

I recognize I am incredibly privileged. I will never have any idea what it's like to be a Black person in this country. I will never come close to understanding what it's like to have the deck stacked against me. To find out that even white people I thought were my friends have hidden hatred just because of my skin. I know my skin tone protects me. I benefit everyday from being white in ways I'm not even aware of.

As I grow older, I do my best to learn. I know I've done racist things. I hope that it's because I didn't know better. I'm embarrassed to know that. I'm embarrassed by beliefs I have. I didn't even know I had them. I guess it seeped in during childhood. I didn't know know they were there until I looked inside. I'm learning how to be better. How to think better. How to act better.

Here in Tucson, our racism is more focused on Hispanics and immigrants, for obvious reasons. Being here, I've learned about the horrors of ICE and Border Patrol how they treat those coming into this country, illegal or otherwise. But when a barbershop opened a couple stores down from where I work, I learned that good ol' Black racism is alive and well here. They have a substantial Black clientele, and I love them. Teens and young guys will come out and take selfies to show off their new hair. The staff sometimes come by our shop to talk about business, and sometimes we groom their dogs.They're a cheerful, friendly group and we all like them. But some of our clients are afraid. They come in clutching their pearls because 'some...guy' (yup, with a pause where Black or something else would be) said Hi. or told them their dog was cute. One woman was afraid to go to her car. JESUS FUCKING CHRIST. Why?! Because there were two Black guys talking  half the strip down and they called good morning, that's a cute dog! to her.

So yeah. We're a clusterfuck of hidden and not so hidden racism. I don't even know where to go with this. It's just a ramble of wtf thoughts.

To me, it's incredibly obvious why there's so many protests. The rage and pain is overwhelming and has finally spilled over. Not only the rage and pain from those men and women wrongfully murdered by the police, but of the decades of injustice and cruelty dating all the way back to when slaves first were dragged to this county. That's generations of bottled up emotion and ???

I'm humbled and grateful to see the peaceful protests. To see communities come together to grieve and heal. Seeing the police working together with those people is amazing. Seeing the police kneel in front of protesters, powerful.

But dominating that is the insanely aggressive actions in other areas. Watching videos and reading accounts of police deliberately attacking, shooting,, tear gassing protesters, press, old and young is TERRIFYING. 

Seeing the hatred and hostility spilling out of all the closet and not so closet racists is terrifying. Seeing police chiefs and military leaders foaming at the mouth, desperate to rampage and destroy the very citizens they're supposed to protect and care for is so scary I can barely think about it after I've read/watched it. These men in high position are so eager to go out kill anyone, anyone at all...and here's an excuse. Here's the chance. They can finally act out their fantasies of slaughtering anyone they don't like. Black, Hispanic, gay, the press, 'libtards', anyone and everyone. Now's their chance. And all the time being egged on by the psychopath in the White House.

I don't even know how to begin to express the fear and terror and anxiety *I* have, and I'm not a target of their rage. I can pass as a 'nice white girl'. I'm safe. And I'm still so scared. To be a POC or minority of any kind...I cannot even imagine.

I beg my fellow white people to first shut the hell up and listen. Listen to what Black people have to say. Listen to their pain. Their fears. Their silences. Next, learn. There's tons of information easily accessible on systemic racism. On why #black lives matter, on why this is happening. Listen. Learn. And begin to change. Change how we think. How we act. What we say and do matters. Every little joke or sly winkwink whatever matters. Ask how you can help. How you can do better. And it might be to do nothing. We might have to shut up and stand aside and let people grieve and heal and rage without us tromping all over. Be Honest. We need to stop lying. Our history is so whitewashed and sanitized that it's almost a work of pure fiction. We have to be honest about how our country was founded. How it was built. We need to teach and learn from history as it actually happened, not some mostly made up fairy tale to make ourselves feel good.

Don't badger that one Black person you know to help you. It's not their job to educate you and direct your journey to antiracism and allyship. Be there if they want to talk. Shut up if they don't. But do your own research. Read the books, watch the documentaries, read the websites.

Buzzfeed has a compilation that's a good place to start. And one of my fav bloggers L. Williams at Viva Carlos recently put up a post on allyship that's helpful.

I apologize for this post being rambly and ineloquent. There's more that can be said. I'm tired and scared and ashamed. I'm also learning, and it's uncomfortable. But it's worth a little discomfort to make the world better. To make everyone I encounter feel safe. I hope that we finally listen and make the changes that must be made. And I'm going to do everything I can to help that hope along.

 It took a long moment before I could even ask the question. I leaned against Truby and ran my hand along her neck, underneath her mane. &qu...