Dear White Friends
Dear White Friends:
Please don’t make this about you. Of all the things this is about (racism, murder, injustice, inequality, and so much more), our whiteness is not the problem. The problem is deeply rooted in the fact that from our country’s very beginning, people with darker skin have never been regarded as people.
Slavery was never abolished in our country, we just changed the terms. Our sordid past filled with bloodshed, lynching, manipulation, and lies continues today in different forms. We have created a system that has made it nearly impossible for black families to set roots and become an equal part of society by banks that have created ghetto neighborhoods with unequal financing options. We have set up inequality in education standards by not funding schools equally. We have viewed casual racism with such disregard that it has become blatant and deadly. And we have looked the other way the whole time.
If you think this is only about one or two incidents, you are wrong.
The effect of the trauma unfairly placed upon the black community gets passed down through multiple generations. And with each generation comes new oppression to fight, and greater fear associated with that fight. They are fighting against hundreds of years of unjust policy, bloodshed, and racism and if it makes you uncomfortable to see a community of people trying to do whatever they can to stop being oppressed, have the decency to either educate yourself on their struggles and history, or just keep your mouth shut.
As a white woman, I have my own violence, injustice and oppression I face, but it isn’t even in the same ballpark as my black friends. You know what I don’t have? Fear. I am aware of my privilege, and every time something like this happens, I become even more aware. I know if I need help, I can call the police and will be protected. I can call without hesitation and know they will help me. I don’t have to worry that my life might be in worse danger if I call for help. I have never once entertained the thought that my death would be recorded so the entire world could pull it up and watch as I take my last shallow breath as a police officer knelt on my neck and ignored my pleas for help.
His name is George Floyd.
Please stop comparing. The fear I have when jogging at night on my own is not the same as the fear the black community has when they encounter law enforcement. Or are also alone jogging.
His name is Ahmaud Arbery.
I have named two, but there are many, many more. These are real people with real families and real dreams. These are real people who have died senselessly because racism is still infecting our country.
If you think slavery has been abolished and racism isn’t real, I encourage you to read “Between the World and Me” by Ta-Nehisi Coates and gain a little more perspective.
Please don’t make this about you.
*****
Dear Black Friends:
I am so very sorry that you are still fighting racism in our country. It’s not right and it’s not fair. My heart breaks to see another member of your community die at the hands of law enforcement.
It scares and saddens me to see how racism is becoming more open and accepted. I want you to feel safe and valued and respected. I want you to be free to be who you are and not feel like you have to conform to what our white society deems acceptable.
I’d like to know how I and other white people can help. How can we use our position to help raise yours? How can we fix these problems of racism, violence, and inequality together? You have our support, but we need guidance.
I love you. I see our differences and I love them. I love the different perspectives you offer and the different styles and tastes you have. I love the way you look. But, more than any of these things, I love your passion, determination, and perseverance. I value your friendship, our conversations, our shared laughter, tears, and experiences. And I am embarrassed that generations upon generations of my white community have done this to you.
Keep pressing on. Keep educating us. Keep protesting however you can.
