Perspectives: Four Articles by Black Writers to Create Understanding

These four essays have been particularly useful in creating bridges: not necessarily to talk, but to listen, to hear, to see.

Then to act.

Stop “Checking In”

Soni isn’t talking right now. She’s cocooning. Sonja is Black, one of my closest and longest-term friends. I know her very well. When she cocoons with her cat, and now with a husband, you’d best leave her alone. The only thing I can do, and she responded before she went quiet, is to send her love.

I don’t “check in” on her. Sonja, like the writer below, is in no mood, nor should she be, to help assuage white discomfort or guilt. She’s got plenty on her plate. Like this public radio journalist:

I would emphatically advise my white readers not to just “check in” on Black friends whom they’ve not talked to in years. If they’d mattered to you, calling or texting wouldn’t come as a surprise. It’s not a compliment to be suddenly important just because you’re Black. In that regard, you’re contacting them for your reasons, not out of a deep and legitimate care for them. Please check your intentions before “checking in.” I can only speak for myself but I am in contact only with those Black friends I have close, regular and important connections. Because then it’s genuine. I don’t need to ask them how they are. I already know. You would too, if you were really talking.

From her article:

It certainly hit home for me when I saw Carvell Wallace’s tweet, “Wow I guess according to my text messages and DMs I’m a lot of people’s one black friend.”

Please don’t do this to Black people right now. Just….don’t.

Watch your words

In a world where the term racist is used with impunity, what we say and how we say it can make or break viable exchange. I read a piece on Linked In yesterday which described white women attacking a Black woman- a corporate executive in the diversity space- as a racist. Not only do I decry sister hate of ANY kind, our choice of words can either create the critical bridges of understanding or they can throw more fuel on the fire.

To that, I offer Black writer Doug Speight’s article on terminology. It was a terrific way for me to better understand and absorb the subtle but often very critical shadings that exist among these terms. As a result, I can better navigate discussions, and you and I can better understand where we are on this arc. I have biases, we all do. A deeper discussion can help us understand where ignorance and inaction allow it to continue. We can be complicit by avoiding speaking up or acting. While that may not make us racist per se, it does perpetuate the problem, forgive the perpetrators via our silence and maintain the status quo or worse, support the widening divide. Silence in that case is assent.

Doug’s piece:

From his article:

This explains how people can hold biases, exhibit prejudice and discriminate against others, yet they still feel completely absolved of being racist. Do you have Facebook friends who say or post biased, prejudiced and discriminatory things, yet they’d never consider themselves racists? They see racism as an extreme. They think racists are men in white hoods, not sales associates scrutinizing teenage shoppers. They don’t see that they can be guilty of the “lesser evils” of bias, prejudice and discrimination. It’s those lesser evils that quietly propel us toward a racist society.

I have rarely read a better article which helps you and me as white folks understand how labels allow us to be brutal while flying under the radar. You don’t have to wear a hood to fear and hate the hood.

The Token Black Friend

Yesterday afternoon I read another insightful piece by a fellow military peep, Ramesh Nagarajah. His upbringing allowed him opportunities and access and acceptance in a way that many do not experience. In this heartbreakingly honest article, Ramesh discusses the costs, the indignities, the pain that he feels about the trade-offs he made to have white friends and Black privilege. I deeply valued his vulnerability and the process by which he now assesses and picks apart the comments, the acts, the assumptions that were part of his young life. That some of the indignities he suffered, he didn’t even see at the time as indignities leveled at him for the color of his skin, so adapted he’d become to his environment. I offer this to those of us who do have very close Black friends, and challenge us: do we insult them in these ways? Do we compliment and reward them for being “the whitest Black person I know?” That made me suck in my breath. Please read:

From his essay:

In a piece my brother wrote reflecting on the current situation, he considered whether black privilege was real. He and I both have considered how our differences from the common story of black people made us “privileged”. For instance, our immersion into the white community, our success in school and now in the workforce, or that we grew up in middle class black household (highly uncommon in Boston), led us to believe that we had somehow transcended the plight of the black man. Yet, what scared us both so much watching the videos of Ahmaud Arbery and George Floyd, is that we clearly had not. In both cases, it could have been us. There is no escape. There is no level of success that will spare you. We are black men, and that is all that matters to some. (author bolded)

What Being Anti-Racist Looks Like

Rather than check in with Black friends and further impose emotional triggers which none of them needs right now, I strongly recommend this article which does indeed tell you what you can do. Please see, read, and then send, circulate and discuss among all your friends what of this is going to become actionable:

From that article:

No one is born racist or antiracist; these result from the choices we make. Being antiracist results from a conscious decision to make frequent, consistent, equitable choices daily. These choices require ongoing self-awareness and self-reflection as we move through life. In the absence of making antiracist choices, we (un)consciously uphold aspects of white supremacy, white-dominant culture, and unequal institutions and society. Being racist or antiracist is not about who you are; it is about what you do.

Earning Our Black Friendships

In the first article by The Cut, above, the writer described one white friend who has made that shift from checking in to making the commitment:

One has recently gotten very serious about doing anti-racist work, being vocal and having difficult conversations with her parents about the prejudices they hold. She also sent a text, “Thinking of you friend. How are you holding up today?” She’s told me that she wants to learn more and wants feedback on things as she grows, so I called her. I told her that I’m so glad we’re talking regularly during isolation and that I value her support in listening to stories that I produce, but I don’t need these check-ins. I appreciate that she’s acknowledging these events and isn’t oblivious to them. That means a lot. This friend has switched to sending me videos of an herb-thieving bird in her backyard instead and I CANNOT GET ENOUGH! I appreciate my friendship with her more because we had this slightly uncomfortable conversation and came out stronger on the other side. Like with everything in life, the easy thing doesn’t bring sustained change.

If you want to be that white friend who is appreciated, earn it. Do something. Have difficult conversations. I began a brand new friendship with a Black woman just before this all came down. We have been strengthening our connection through these times if for no other reason than I want to hear what she has to say, not put her through the monumentally unfair paces of making me feel better about being white. Not her job. If I want to be a friend, and if I genuinely want to continue to earn that friendship, my actions need to be considerably larger than a tweet out of the blue wanting her to report on her emotions to assuage any white guilt I might be feeling.

I bloody well know how she’s feeling right now.

Let’s stop asking our Black friends how they feel, and start talking to our white friends, our neighbors, parents, cousins, police forces, politicians about how WE feel about what’s happening.

From The Cut article, again, worth repeating:

Like with everything in life, the easy thing doesn’t bring sustained change.

I remain deeply grateful to the Black writers who speak their truth. I continue to read, listen, hear and circulate articles which, I hope very dearly, will broaden, widen and deepen the conversation, lead to action, and fundamentally redirect us all.