When a national headline is about someone you knew, something inside of you stirs. And it’s more than pity. Way more than just sadness. It’s like that nagging headache that just won’t go away. It’s an endless loop of questions playing over and over: “Was it an accident?” “How did this happen?” “Did they know each other?” “Was it because he was black or because she was scared?” “Will we ever know the truth?”
And it’s caused enough discomfort that I’ve just finally decided. When blatant injustice occurs, you have two options: do nothing, or act.
But here’s the thing, no matter if the apartment door was ajar or not. No matter if Botham and Amber were connected in any way or not. No matter what was in his apartment once searched. A man was killed unjustly in his home. The same injustice as if someone walked through your door this very instant as you quietly read these words and fired a weapon at you.
This has to stop. And it starts with me. A young white woman who wants to understand and then change this narrative. It saddens me that the disparity between white people and people of color feels like this endless abyss that is becoming more distrusting, more dark, and more insurmountable. And it keeps happening. Over and over.
So here I we go. I’m on a quest to better understand what white privilege fully means, where it exists, what it looks like, how it got there, how I live into it, and how I can stop perpetuating it. To lay down my defenses and my desire to push back in frustration. To stop denying it and just hear people out. This isn’t a conservative or liberal or Christian or secular effort. It’s a human one. How do I understand minority groups in a way that values them as people? People who have been through the ringer and are suffering as a result? Am I capable of shedding my worry of how people will perceive me if I express concern over this? Is how I respond to this crucial time in history something that my kids would be proud of?
So here’s what I’ve started with:
1. An episode of a documentary series on Netflix called Explained. The episode is titled “The Racial Wealth Gap.” It’s ~16 minutes in length. I don’t know the agenda or the political standing of the creators of the show. That information neither encourages nor discourages me from watching it, because I’m just after more overall information here.
2. I’ve been reading this book I’m Still Here—Black Dignity in a World Made for Whiteness by Austin Channing Brown. It’s an honest account of her experience growing up as an African American girl in a middle class white environment. It’s about how she discovered her “blackness” and became empowered to exist between white and black circles as an individual. It’s made me laugh, hurt for her, feel defensive, sigh in frustration, and audibly gasp. But how it’s made me feel as a white person isn’t its purpose. The point is that a very brave African American woman is giving people like me access to her story and her experiences. That is a treasure and one that I don’t dare take lightly. Why do I feel the need (or authority) to decide whether it’s legitimate or not? It just is what it is and I’m thankful to her for it because it’s helping me learn.
What about you? How are you responding? Are your efforts defined by your social media statuses....and that’s kind of it? Are you like me and melt into the “non confrontational” zone quietly reading the dialogue between the passionate ones from your phone screen and scrolling on? No matter what your comfort zone is or what kind of responder you are, I challenge you to try two things:
1. Make one goal for yourself in understanding what is happening here. Intentionally interact with someone else’s thoughts and experiences completely foreign to you. A person. A book. A blog. A show/documentary. Ask someone if you can talk openly and ask them questions safely.
2. While completing #1, decide beforehand whether you can listen without feeling the need to determine the legitimacy of what you’re hearing. Listen to the person, knowing that despite whether it is ultimately true or it isn’t, it is REAL for them. And that is what makes it worth listening to. Their perception is as real to them as my perception is to me. They believe it is true just as much as you might believe that it isn’t. Decide to listen first and remind yourself to back down and just listen when your defenses start to surface. The goal is to hear. Not respond.
For my Christian friends, doing these two things doesn’t make you “more secular.” In fact I’d argue the opposite. But it may very well change your perspective. Which might spread to your inner circles. Which could change your neighborhoods. Which just might save the life of a black man sitting in his apartment.
I’m committed to being better. What should I read/watch next?
