Setting the stage: I carry several labels that include white, middle-class, Jewish, well educated, cis-gender, Liberal, and female. Nowhere among my descriptors is African American, Multi-racial, PoC, or Black. I won’t pretend that I can even begin to understand from first-hand experience what it is like for those who self-identify that way. Even writing this article feels like a stretch, since I don’t want to step on toes and present as someone who is ‘woke’ or even as informed as I need to be. I have begun to read Robin DiAngelo’s book that was published in 2018 but has experienced a revitalization due to an upswing in aggression in word and action toward Black people. Called White Fragility: Why It’s So Hard For White People To Talk About Racism, it touches on some of what follows in this article.
I grew up in a Philly suburb in an originally White-as-can-be town called Willingboro, NJ It was one of the three Levittown communities (PA and NY were the other two). It has been well documented that the builder had racist ideologies and that the first Black family had to sue in order to move in. By the time my family moved there, the population evolved and became more integrated. I grew up with friends from many backgrounds. My parents taught my sister and me acceptance of all without regard to the artificial separation by skin hue. As an adult, I have come to understand that being ‘colorblind’ doesn’t honor diversity and it minimizes the social injustices that PoC experience.
I was a child of the 1960s when the Civil Rights Movement was in its nascent stage. TV news broadcasted images of MLK, Malcolm X, and Medgar Evers speaking out against injustice. My parents did the best they could to explain why it was important to be aware of how marginalizing one group harmed everyone.
When I was in my teens, I had the eye-opening experience of reading the book Black Like Me by John Howard Griffin. He describes the journey he took through the deep South after having his skin temporarily artificially darkened. I couldn’t wrap my mind around the inhumane treatment he experienced as a result of his social experiment.
My senior year in High School was when the series Roots was initially broadcast. My outrage grew when I witnessed on screen the history of slavery in this country. I had learned about the Underground Railroad in school but this went deeper into the horrors of human beings as property.
In utter incredulity that many years afterward, those terrible times are continuing. In the face of the Black Lives Matter movement and the protests that are taking place worldwide, it felt important for me to write on this subject. My voice is not sufficient, but I stand with those who have their narratives to offer. I am grateful that so many of my friends were willing to accept my invitation to share their stories, so I step back as they take center stage. I asked each of them the same questions, so I will only state them once. Their brilliance shines through as they open a window into their individual worlds. One I have known since childhood and the others have entered my life in the decades since.
How do you want to be identified? Name or anonymous? Age and profession? Gender pronouns?
Cyrus Webb, 44 * Media Personality/Author
Where did you grow up?
Mississippi
What was it like in your community- was it multi-cultural or did your neighbors look like you?
I grew up in a multi-cultural neighborhood and went to a school that was majority white but really good race relations.
What were you taught it meant to be a PoC?
Growing up we had a good relationship with all races. Though my mother went to a segregated school and lived through the Civil Rights movement we were taught that all people were equal. Yes, I heard about incidents that happened that were race-related, but it wasn’t anything that I personally witnessed.
Did your parents have ‘the talk’ with you about staying safe in the world? If you are a parent, do you have that conversation with your children or grandchildren?
No. I keep hearing today about ‘the talk’ with black families. That was not something that I had with my parents at all. Ironically my mother who is 73 says she never had that talk when she was growing up.
How do you feel about the idea of being ‘colorblind,’ since many white people claim that is their perception as they attempt to be supportive?
I think for the most part we try to be colorblind, regardless of race. It’s something that we all have to work on. Maybe some whites find this more difficult than others, but I really believe that if you have the right intent that will guide you in the right direction.
Although bigotry and racism have been a part of the culture, does it seem more prevalent now?
If so, what do you think is the catalyst?
I honestly don’t think it’s more prevalent. I think because we are all so connected through the internet and social media that it appears to be happening more. Because it’s being broadcast more widely it’s harder to ignore.
How would you respond when people retort, “All Lives Matter,” to the declaration that Black Lives
Matter?
As a Christian, I agree that ALL lives do matter. I get what people are saying about we can’t say that until Black Lives Matter, but the truth is that knowing that All Lives Matter should encourage us to make sure that we treat everyone the same.
What are your suggestions to bring about equity and safety?
I think it goes to realizing that we are all connected through humanity. That is the only kind that matters, humankind. When we realize that and act like it, then I think we will see real change.
There are videos being spread via social media that show explicit images of violence against PoC. How do you feel about them? Do you think they have value as an educational tool or are too traumatizing and triggering?
I don’t agree personally with continuing to share such images. In fact, when they come up on my social media feed I will mute the post or hide. I understand that people want to spread the word, but I do think they aren’t thinking about how traumatizing that can be for some. It’s a personal opinion, of course. That is just my view. Helps me to keep my inner peace intact.
Jasmine Craig (she/her/hers) Age 33 years. Public theologian and faith leader. Mother and wife. Biracial woman of African-American heritage.
My parents pride themselves in securing a home in a suburban school district, but across the street from the beautiful city of Philadelphia. Chestnut Hill is my old stomping grounds.
Diversity was present, in a way that I didn’t appreciate until I moved away. People were different colors and cultures. So much so that it wasn’t a conscious thought; it just was. There is a gift in that.
This is a term that I learned as an adult, so I wasn’t taught much of anything about it when I was younger. I had the unique experience of being raised by an all-white family. My biological mother is white, and my step-dad (who is my legal, adoptive father) is also white- both blonde-haired and blue-eyed. I don’t think my parents had the awareness, knowledge, or ability to raise me with a robust understanding of what it meant to be a POC. They knew they needed a community, so they raised me in a diverse neighborhood. However, I always felt not quite black, and not quite white. I identified with white culture, but with black history and experience. I was the one who began to lead discussions on blackness in my family. Every Black History Month I would give daily trinkets of knowledge to my mom about black people in American history. For birthday and Christmas, I would ask for Motown CDs, books by Toni Morrison, Langston Hughes, and black history. For me, being a POC was to either be a stereotype or a ‘model minority.’ I felt like I only had those two options (or would only be perceived as those two options). My white extended family would interact with me with complete ignorance about what it means to be a POC. They were loving and nice, but to this day, I don’t have authentic relationships with them because I don’t feel ‘seen’ as a POC. Luckily, as I grew in my own identity and awareness, my parents also have done the hard work of growing as well.
I was never given ‘the talk.’ In fact, in many ways, I had to work through feeling resentful that I was not raised with insight and guidance specific to being a dark-skinned female in America. As a parent, I make sure to be very open with my children. They have been to numerous vigils, marches, and rallies so they can be aware of how racism shows up in our nation, and also feel empowered to use their voice to make a change. It is also a priority for us, especially living in a hyper majority-white area (where Confederate flags are displayed on houses and vehicles regularly). I tell my 11-year-old son to pull his hood down in public, to not wear his camo bandana in public. I tell both of my children to not be too loud or draw any further attention to themselves. To be respectful of authority, but give cops a wide berth. We know that we carry the weight of being the ‘token’ POC in our immediate communities. We carry the weight of knowing that it only takes one ignorant, bigoted, or racist person to cause us harm. I make sure to go to “Coffee With A Cop” events to get to know the law enforcement officers by name, just in case. (The first time I attended one, I needed a friend to go with me. I was shaking walking into a room full of white male officers. It felt like I was fighting my internal instincts of fight or flight).
Who benefits from “colorblindness,” and what does it accomplish? Being ‘colorblind’ is an extension of white privilege. To be colorblind means there is no need to understand, to learn, to embrace, to listen, to appreciate, or to be challenged. It is a way to stay comfortable and not accept responsibility. Being colorblind simply means that you are content ‘coexisting.’ I was raised in a family of people who were ‘colorblind.’ Although the intent may be well-meaning, the impact is detrimental. See my beautiful color! See my full, thick curls! See the strength and endurance of my ancestors! See the contributions of my people in architecture, science, education, politics, the arts, the social fabric, the culinary arts, and so much more. Be intentional about learning, reading, understanding, appreciating, and being challenged by blackness.
Think of America as one body with a debilitating illness that it was born with. This illness at times has been ignored, at times has been embraced as just part of the identity of the body, at times has attempted to be contained in certain parts of the body. This illness, which impacts the whole health of the body, is sometimes ignored by other parts of the body that claim not to feel its immediate effects. But this illness festers. And there are flare-ups. Often, those flare-ups are addressed, but only enough to soothe the inflammation. There is never a full-body remedy to eradicate the illness. Right now, we are seeing a flare-up. Like every catalyst, the flare-up is a build-up of constant and continual irritants that only inflame the illness. The election of a white supremacist was the first big irritant. Then everything from that administration. Then visibility of issues and irritants that allowed for a collective voice- #blackwhile trend, #blacklivesmatter movement, #endpolicebrutality were HUGE. I think what’s different now is that more people are seeing this disease as impacting the health of the whole body. People are willing to address the disease, instead of just soothe the inflammation. There are more majority of people taking responsibility to make a consistent change, not just for the part of the body most affected (black people), but for the whole health of America.
If All Lives Matter, why wouldn’t you assert that indeed Black Lives Matter? It is such backward thinking that I usually can’t even respond. It is an illogical retaliation to hijack and ‘white center’ the conversation. It is a red herring strategy that diverts the conversation away from systemic racial injustice, with the guise of being holistically humanitarian.
Racism is an institutional, systemic problem that individuals have a responsibility to eradicate. We, as Americans, need to be resolute and steadfast about rejecting racism in all of the ways and places it shows up. We need to change social landscapes and values. We need to change policies, structures, and power dynamics. We have to eradicate ‘separate but equal’ mentalities and behaviors that are still in place. We cannot wait until everyone is ‘onboard’ or more fully aware. It’s a ‘both/and’ solution. Do what you can in your own sphere of influence and with your own power. Slowly social attitudes will change if we are collective and consistent. Do your own learning and growing. Slowly people will begin to become more educated and aware. Vote, not for your own interests, but as if you were a black man. Call out EVERY SINGLE INSTANCE of bias, microaggressions, ignorance, racism, and bigotry. Love your white neighbor enough to want better for them. Love your black neighbor enough to want better for them. Do it with integrity, whether there are black people around or not. Do it with integrity, whether you personally know a POC or not. Do it with integrity because it is the right thing to do, and that is how we aggressively eradicate the illness of racism.
Both. I don’t watch them. I won’t ever watch them. I am not the person that needs to see them (and it is unfortunate that anyone needs to see them). I already know about the horrors of racial injustice, from the mass kidnapping, rape, and exploitation of black people, to our present-day realities with police. It is desensitizing, it is traumatic, it is horrible for black people to continue to carry more trauma and rage. However, what is the alternative? Until white people realize the horrors, there has to be visible, physical evidence that goes viral across social media platforms. AND EVEN THEN oftentimes justice is still not served. We must do better.
Deciding to pursue justice is an identity. It becomes a new lifestyle. It is a rebirth and a lifelong commitment. But it is who we, as humans, were created to be. Compassionate, empathetic, interconnected, loyal warriors, creative problem-solvers. Instead of thinking about it primarily as ‘what can I do’ in this space, what if we reframed it as ‘who should I BE’ in this space?
Norman Taylor musician and educator
I grew up partially in West Philadelphia and partially in South Jersey
West Philly was predominantly a black community when I grew up. Willingboro the town I grew up in South Jersey was a racially diverse community
I guess that I had to be at a higher standard and that I would be judged by how I behaved and presented myself.
Yes, I had the talk and I’m glad I did. I’m sure it saved me on at least one, maybe two occasions with the police. And yes, if I had children I would give them the talk.
I say (and I’m not sure where I heard this) if you don’t see color, you don’t see me.
It’s more illuminated now because of the current administration in the White House. Also, technology has helped us to be able to have actual proof even though it has just started to really be believed after George Floyd
To me, all lives matter is a deflection. For instance, right now our medical focus is on the Coronavirus so then it’s like people saying “well what about cancer?” All disease matters but right now the focus is COVID.
Listen and act on the issues that affect people put much of the funding that police get toward social programs
Yes they are important they may be triggering but the trigger has to be pulled.
My name is Elizar Garrett. I’m 36 years old and a paraprofessional for the School District of Philadelphia (SDP).
In my opinion that terminology brings up some mixed feelings. If it is my ethnicity then I’m mixed or I come from at least two races that I know about. Black and white.
From when I was baby until about 12 my family moved around a lot. But if I had to pick an area I would say Franklin Township which is between Princeton and New Brunswick, NJ. Then we moved to South Jersey right outside Philadelphia which is where I live now.
I guess I didn’t think about it too much in my younger years. My mom did a really fine job exposing me to different races and cultures. Still, though looking back I think it could be more diverse. I mean being a person of color I was in the minority in that aspect. It wasn’t until I went to school at Burlington County Institute of Technology where I felt a stronger sense of diversity. Most of my neighborhoods and schools were white.
This is a bit harder to answer. I think my mother and my experiences gave me a foundation to view the world in a different way. But for the most part, my mother didn’t want me to live in fear. I just remember small talks of being judged on my color of skin or the way my hair was curly. Or to be mindful of the dangers that surround racism.
I think I might be answering these out of order. Yes, she always was like that. I grew up, developed street smarts. Yes, I do want to have conversations about it.
I feel like the ignorance speaks for itself in statements like that. As the people are uneducated to the history behind racism or I choosing to ignore it. So the KKK is color blind? Or how about kids and innocent black women and men who are killed for no valid reason?
Yes, it does seem that way. I think the answer to both is Donald Trump’s presidency. I think things that were hidden or more subtle in racism have increased under his time as president.
Again I think it’s there isn’t a level of understanding or knowledge there. Its message is that black lives don’t seem to matter in the injustices going on.
I think we need to reevaluate the systems that cause these to happen to people of color. The ‘why’ isn’t being asked or seen too much right now. I don’t know what to say about safety. I don’t feel safe right now. I think anything can happen. My hope is that change happens where we can begin to believe in safety.
Both. We can’t turn a blind eye to what is going on right now or sugarcoat it. It is happening and we are living in it. However, I understand not wanting to see that detail of violence. I think we should at the very least acknowledge what is going on and stay to some extent informed.
Maybe or I missed something. I think its important to stand up and talk to people when you can or feel you can. And I don’t mean just friends or people who agree with you. Talk to people that hold different views and disagree with you. I learned a lot this past year from someone that watches fox news all day and supports trump. Not the worst conversations but when I did listen I noticed so much of information was either missing or not true.
Also, I want to add something that is important to think about. There is racism in the black community as well. Please listen to the reasons or look at the history before you believe a person of color that tells you racism doesn’t exist or never has. You can research any one of these topics.
Rev. Rhetta Morgan, 60s, interfaith minister, musician, and facilitator. She/her pronouns.
I grew up in Washington DC.
My neighbors looked like me. It was a black working-class neighborhood.
I don’t remember specifically being taught so much as I observed how people acted. People worked hard, tried to be upstanding neighbors and community members.
My story is a bit unique in that Washington was called chocolate city when I was growing up. My parents were very strict so there weren’t many times we were allowed in circumstances where we would have to be particularly vigilant. We grew up in the city and of course, there are dangers in any city but it wasn’t my experience that there was much fear of the police. Where I was very aware of it being dangerous to be black is when we visited our family in the south. I noticed from a very young age that my parents were afraid of white people, cops included.
To be colorblind is a kind of spiritual bypass as far as I’m concerned. I want folks to see my color and appreciate both the history, resilience, the struggles in the present.
Not more, just more visible. TV, social media, videos, but also folks are on edge because we are in a pandemic and climate crisis looms large.
White Americans have deep and difficult work to do, facing the tragedy of their pasts. If faced with a healing intention, not just to bring up to make people feel bad then they can clear away the heaviness around unfelt and un-dealt with pain. I believe we can then begin to vision on a grander scale than is possible when the unhealed stands in the way. Whole systems need to be dismantled and re-created from an understanding of embodied equality. Before the healing work is done people will say we are all equal from an intellectual belief that it is true, but when challenged they will revert back to under the surface experiences of division.
I think both are true. They should be used in contexts that support and intend healing, not just to sensationalize violence.
The heaviness of racism sits on all of us, which means that we will all have more access to our creativity, flexibility, our best thinking, unimagined innovation and so much more when we remove the veil of oppression.
Mitchell Epps
I grew up in group homes/foster homes and boarding schools as a child. I am truly a project of the system.
I lived in 22 foster and group homes before being officially adopted at the age of 18.
Some neighborhoods have been multicultural with a lot of diversity. Some communities were Caucasian while others were multicultural. It all depends on what state I was living in at the time.
No, I was never taught. But I have learned that everyone is human and we all bleed red blood.
I believe we are all human and we can work through this racial discrimination issue in the 21st-century if we come together as a community and as a nation.
My parents did not teach me. I had a talk about safety in the world. I taught myself about life and growing up in the system and watching different individuals and how to behave in their actions.
I feel like 2020 should be a year for change. There is no reason to look at the issue as color is no longer a black-and-white issue. It is a nation’s issue. And I believe everything is a learned behavior and not taught.
I believe society is built on what is around it and I believe a lot of people can come together as a community in 2020 to bridge that gap of racial discrimination.
I believe all lives matter not just one because there have been multiple cultures that have been killed or targeted by police officers. It is alarming across the nation how many cases have come out every day and every year.
I believe the biggest struggle is the community and I believe everyone has to come together. When you sign up for a political position as a mayor, police chief, statesman, or senator you’ve got to work with your community to keep it safe and ground it.
Social media plays a factor in everything now because everyone wants to whip out their cell phones. No one is stepping in to be the peacekeeper or the mediator. I believe every community has to work on the way to maintain safety with proper communication and a bridge that gap against hate.
There are some very good officers in the world and there are some bad officers as well. I do believe if a citizen is unarmed and an officer feels threatened there’s no need to use deadly force. And I believe mayors and police chiefs have to hold these officers accountable for the accident. If it was a citizen behaving in this fashion there will be charges and jail time. And I truly believe we could all make a difference in this lifetime. And this is simply a legacy; we are all on borrowed time.
Robin Renée, musician, writer, podcaster, ze/hir and she/her pronouns
I grew up in Atco, NJ
It was majority white but had a black population as well. I don’t remember too many other people of varied ethnicities in the area at that time. The two groups mostly lived in different parts of town and kept separate socially. My family is biracial, so we were the different ones.
I don’t have strong memories of being taught much about this. I was aware of people’s prejudices and cruel things that kids would say at school. I remember dealing with incorrect assumptions people would make based on race. I remember positive, cultural things in my home like holiday foods, Soul Train, and the special love my grandmother had for black athletes and performers. I don’t recall ever being told specific things about what it means to be PoC.
I don’t think I got that ‘talk.’ Maybe my brother did, but I’m not sure. Especially now with such a spotlight on police brutality, I feel that I grew up with a certain amount of privilege. For the most part, I knew police as people who could be trusted to be helpful rather than to cause harm. The fact that this experience is hardly universal couldn’t be clearer now. As I got older I have been pulled over for “driving while black,” trailed for “shopping while black,” and I’ve had other scary race-related experiences. When I was growing up, though, I felt pretty secure and didn’t have a sense that there were things I couldn’t do or places I couldn’t go based on race.
Many people were taught to be ‘colorblind’ as the way to solve racism. Now I think that is mostly a mistake. I want us to see all of each other and to develop the resilience and the language to talk about the persistence of racism as well as being able to give voice to the celebration of our differences and similarities. I love my biracial family and am very happy for that experience growing up. I would never trade it. However, I have thought from time to time that it would have been good to hear more from my parents about how others might perceive us negatively and some of the things they might say or do. I feel like I learned most of that the hard way out in the world. A little more of a heads up may have helped. I wonder if it wasn’t talked about so much because of the colorblind attitude of the time.
It’s more obvious now. I think there have been upticks in recent years – from people angry about the election of Obama and later emboldened by the election of Trump. I don’t have those statistics, but it feels that way. By saying that, I don’t want to gloss over the fact that bigotry and racism really hadn’t gone anywhere. Right now, there seem to be more people actively looking at these problems and doing the work to confront them and make changes. We are going through major growing pains, but I am cautiously optimistic.
I don’t respond. I am so over that. “All Lives Matter” sounds like a willful misunderstanding of what “Black Lives Matter” means by people who don’t want to engage the conversation.
On a personal level, talk to each other. Hear and see each other as whole, complex human beings. I can’t make people do that, but I try to facilitate social spaces where that is what we do. I want to invite people to experience each others’ humanity and fullness as much as possible. On a policy level, I am interested in some of the efforts to direct police action toward actual crime and have a lot of the other work police have been doing taken care of by social workers and other organizations more closely related to the problem at hand. I want to hear more of those proposals from different places. And please VOTE for people who have empathy and will help bring about equity and safety.
I don’t want to see that and I try my best not to. I am traumatized just knowing and understanding what has happened. I believe having a record of these horrible incidents is a good thing, ultimately, so they can’t be denied. Maybe some people need to see it to get their reality into their minds. In most cases though, I think we can do better than to share and consume real-life ultra-violence again and again.
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