It baffles me when white people say that there isn't a race problem.
Such statements are like me saying, "I don't have a cancer problem."
I mean, right this second, I don't have cancer (as far as I know) and no one I know and love has cancer (as far as I know).
But beyond the bubble that surrounds little ole me are a LOT of people and many of them do have a cancer problem.
Since they live in my neighborhood, in my community, my church, my city, I guess that means that the collective "we" does have a cancer problem.
The collective "we" does have a race problem.
Why do I think this?
Yesterday there was a shooting by a white man of two black people at a grocery store that is less than 5 miles from my house.
When a man with a gun confronted the shooter in the parking lot, the shooter apparently told him, "Whites don't kill whites."
Also, our illustrious president keeps haranguing the NFL over its peaceful protests (in addition to lambasting any person who has skin that is a shade darker than him).
Also, also a high school I was just at had students protest because white students have been using the "N" word as if it is perfectly ok.
As far as I'm concerned, it is not up to white people to decide if there is a race problem, just like it is not up to a man who cannot be pregnant to decide if a pregnancy is difficult or a pain in the butt or if labor hurts.
It is not up to me to speak about the plight of poverty or whether it is as bad or as hard as it appears because I have not lived that experience.
I know we live in a time when experts and experience are worthless.
When anybody can just have any old random thought and it is accepted as the truth, without data and facts and relevance to back it up.
When scientists and economists and doctors are evidently lying and telling us untruths.
When living a certain life does not give you any real-world relevant knowledge with which to speak.
It is like my pre-parent self thinking I had any freaking CLUE what being a mom was actually like.
When white people say there is not a race problem, I suspect some of them, at least, are trying to be "beyond color," which many white people think is what it means to be non-racist.
We do not live in a world that is "beyond color," so this seems like a pointless endeavor.
Furthermore, not seeing someone's race is not seeing someone in their entirety.
Race isn't the sole determinant of a person's experience, but it is part of who they are, and to act as if their race has zero influence or impact seems absurd.
If I am working with students, I think if I said something ridiculous like, "I don't see color," the students would have every right to roll their eyes at me.
It is a lie; we all see color.
Just recently I was teaching about Kate Chopin's The Awakening, in which a quadroon nurse is mentioned. (A quadroon is a person who is one-quarter black.) I made the comment that I don't think to myself, "I wonder if that person is a quarter black or half black or an eighth black."
I don't do the Elizabeth Warren test of heredity.
But what I asked the students is what it says about a society if they refer to people as quadroons, if the society is even interested in how much of a percentage of a person is black.
Some white people who say there is not a race problem allude to the fact that they know a black person or are friends with a black person.
And my response is as follows: So what if you have black friends you occasionally see every once in a while.
This doesn't mean you don't have bias and feelings of racism inside, where the social media masses can't see.
(Also, like 98% of your "friends" are white, so give me a break.)
I work very hard to think deeply about racism and its impact, but I know darn good and well that I have had thoughts that stem from things I was taught or heard or "picked up" when I was a kid.
Even though that is not how I want to believe, it is there in my head.
Because I know it is there, I tell myself on the regular that all people feel as I do.
Whatever feelings I am capable of having, others are capable of having as well because we share a common humanity.
I guess if you're gonna have a mantra running through your head, there are worse ones to have.
Talking about racism is hard and uncomfortable.
I'm having a conversation with myself in this blog, and I feel uncomfortable right now.
I worry whether and how I offend black people, not because I'm intending to but because I just don't understand.
I want to understand.
I want to know.
I want to do better.
It is not up to me to speak about the plight of poverty or whether it is as bad or as hard as it appears because I have not lived that experience.
I know we live in a time when experts and experience are worthless.
When anybody can just have any old random thought and it is accepted as the truth, without data and facts and relevance to back it up.
When scientists and economists and doctors are evidently lying and telling us untruths.
When living a certain life does not give you any real-world relevant knowledge with which to speak.
It is like my pre-parent self thinking I had any freaking CLUE what being a mom was actually like.
When white people say there is not a race problem, I suspect some of them, at least, are trying to be "beyond color," which many white people think is what it means to be non-racist.
We do not live in a world that is "beyond color," so this seems like a pointless endeavor.
Furthermore, not seeing someone's race is not seeing someone in their entirety.
Race isn't the sole determinant of a person's experience, but it is part of who they are, and to act as if their race has zero influence or impact seems absurd.
If I am working with students, I think if I said something ridiculous like, "I don't see color," the students would have every right to roll their eyes at me.
It is a lie; we all see color.
Just recently I was teaching about Kate Chopin's The Awakening, in which a quadroon nurse is mentioned. (A quadroon is a person who is one-quarter black.) I made the comment that I don't think to myself, "I wonder if that person is a quarter black or half black or an eighth black."
I don't do the Elizabeth Warren test of heredity.
But what I asked the students is what it says about a society if they refer to people as quadroons, if the society is even interested in how much of a percentage of a person is black.
Some white people who say there is not a race problem allude to the fact that they know a black person or are friends with a black person.
And my response is as follows: So what if you have black friends you occasionally see every once in a while.
This doesn't mean you don't have bias and feelings of racism inside, where the social media masses can't see.
(Also, like 98% of your "friends" are white, so give me a break.)
I work very hard to think deeply about racism and its impact, but I know darn good and well that I have had thoughts that stem from things I was taught or heard or "picked up" when I was a kid.
Even though that is not how I want to believe, it is there in my head.
Because I know it is there, I tell myself on the regular that all people feel as I do.
Whatever feelings I am capable of having, others are capable of having as well because we share a common humanity.
I guess if you're gonna have a mantra running through your head, there are worse ones to have.
Talking about racism is hard and uncomfortable.
I'm having a conversation with myself in this blog, and I feel uncomfortable right now.
I worry whether and how I offend black people, not because I'm intending to but because I just don't understand.
I want to understand.
I want to know.
I want to do better.
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