Everything I'm Not Saying

Two years ago I had a conversation with someone about racism. This person wasn't American, and I knew that changing her mind would be a challenge: how I could I convey the Black experience to someone who knew little about slavery and segregation and everything? I did a terrible job. I was reserved because I am always reserved, but also because I was paralyzed by my own anger. I've never been a good conversationalist. 

So you can imagine how quiet I've been lately, especially now that conversations about race are everywhere, and often I am the Black-person-in-the-room who should say something. I feel a little like a kettle gathering heat, I have very little to say until the conversation ends. Then I start a conversation with myself of everything I could have said. 

When this began, I started keeping notes of what I think but don't say. I log the real questions and the imaginary ones -- the ones I wish they'd asked. It's quite similar to all my recent conversations, except this time I say all the things I want them to know. My opinion adds nothing to the whole, but I wanted to share it regardless, not for anyone’s pleasure except my own.

How have you been feeling?
In the beginning I was enraged ("Another Black person killed by the police, another one! How long is this going to go on, how many more people have to die?"), and then after reading comments by people who don't support Black Lives Matter, I felt frustrated because I wanted so badly for them to see it my way ("if only I could sit them down and talk to them!"). Now I feel betrayed. There are so many brands, friends, mentors, TV personalities and influencers that I adored that stayed silent or took a neutral position, and in a strange way it feels personal, almost as if they are saying, "I don't care about you" or "I don't care to try to understand this." It's easy to say good riddance to those people, but that doesn't remove the pain of losing them. Remember that your Black friends are losing a lot of things right now, even as positive changes are made.

But wait, if this has been going on for years, why do you only feel betrayed now? 
Before now, speaking out against racism, for both Black and white people, was sometimes risky. Sure, you could say things like "I am not racist" and that was generally acceptable, but saying "Black Lives Matter" in some circles drew a lot of pushback and uncomfortable debates. But now the risk is removed. If someone is silent it is because they've chosen to remain silent, and that hurts.

Why are you only talking about this or posting about this now?
I've published an essay about racism before. I'm too afraid to read it. It was written a long time ago and I've learned a lot since then. I have a feeling that I'd disagree with most of it. I only talk about racism with people I think will listen and be receptive, which is a huge problem. Most of the time, those people aren't the ones who need to hear about it. 

These are such crazy times!
I'd rather not use that phrase. "Crazy" implies that there is a random element, that it "lacks reason," or that the movement is irrational and born out of thin air. This is another determined effort to end systematic racism after years of oppression. There is nothing crazy about this.

So what can I do, even if I'm sure I'm not racist?
The easiest practice is to assume you have racial biases (even if you think you don't) so that you're actively working against them.

I don't understand?
Imagine that your doctor tells you that you may or may not have a sugar allergy but there was no way to test it. You would spend a lot of time after that making sure there was no sugar in the foods you eat, just to be safe. You need to do the same with the way you see, interact and think about BIPOC. Its taking the time do an extra check in periodically and asking yourself: "Are my biases effecting the way I see things in this moment?"

But you're being a downer. You're not thinking positively.
Negative thoughts are drivers for change and completely necessary.

Why do people get so mad about being called privileged?
American culture glorifies working hard and earning what you receive. That's why they love making fun of heiresses and kids at Fyre festival because they don't think they worked hard for what they have. To be told that you might have gotten something because of privilege translates to some people that they might have received something that they didn't deserve. It feels like a put down, but its not.

I'm worried that things might go the other way, where white people have less opportunities! [Yes, this is real quote from an ex.]
[Laughs maniacally while lightning strikes because I am too annoyed by this question to answer.]

What else should I know?
As one of my friends so eloquently said: "Racism is far more nuanced than most people imagine." The times that I've experienced covert racism were times that the person doing it probably didn't realize because their bias was so deeply ingrained in what they know.

In what way? Do you have an example of a time someone was racist to you that was very nuanced?
I see this the most when I ask for more of something, and I am told in so many words that I should "be grateful" for what I have at the time. This comes from the assumption that Black people have less because they've done something to deserve less, and therefore should be happy when a white person gives them something, even if it is less that what their white counterparts are receiving. What's really interesting is that in that situation the white person feels like they are "saving" us or doing a good deed.

What about on the opposite end, when were the racist experiences the most blatant? 
I have too many examples to count. Coincidentally the first instance and the most recent instance were the most blatant: in kindergarten, being pushed off a chair I was sitting in and told that I couldn't sit with a group of girls because I was Black, and more recently, being told by a ride share driver that he didn't like picking up Black people. What's sad is that after so many years of it, its easy to normalize those experiences so that I can be able to cope with them. That's why the anger that myself and others feel now is a good thing, it is a reminder that we don't have to live like this. We can still change things.