What Would You Do if Racism Took a Holiday?

Five simple things I would experience if the world were racism-free for 24 hours.

I recently watched a movie called Meet Joe Black.

The story was centered around the angel of Death (masterfully portrayed by Brad Pitt) who decided he needed a holiday break to experience the feelings of being human. He had become weary of people perceiving him as a frightful presence, which subsequently moved them to avoid him at all costs. He knew he couldn’t change who he was, but he could use his power to assume the body of a mortal and attempt to blend into society.

He befriended a man named William Parrish (played by Sir Anthony Hopkins) whose death was imminent and made a deal with him. If William agreed to keep Death’s identity a secret and help him experience life as a normal human being, he would extend his time on earth before taking him.

William naturally agreed and gave Death the name of Joe Black to help him appear as an ordinary man not worthy of being feared or ostracized. During his holiday, Joe Black was able to experience genuine human emotions from happiness, sadness, confusion, anger, compassion, and true love. For that moment in time, he could forget his true identity which was associated with so much negativity and was allowed to feel the freedom of being sought after and welcomed into any circle he chose.

After seeing this movie I began to wonder, what if racism took a holiday? Obviously, those of us who are oppressed would prefer that particular holiday to remain permanent, but in keeping with the theme of the movie, I began dreaming of just one day free of bigotry. If you’ve lived with something as antagonistic and hateful as being discriminated against, disrespected, targeted, and disenfranchised, even 24 hours of relief would allow more room to just breathe.

For any White person reading this, please take a moment to rest in gratitude. The wish list I’m about to share with you is composed of my wildest dreams but for you, it’s simply everyday life. I am Joe Black in this scenario. Each day I live with being judged, underestimated, underappreciated, overlooked, disrespected, and sometimes flat out disregarded because I was born as a Black person. I am feared because criminal activity is associated with the color of my skin and I am merely tolerated when I speak about issues that concern my community because America continues to affirm that Black lives don’t always matter to the majority population.

Like Joe, unless some extraordinary or otherworldly event happens, I am unable to conceal my identity and blend in with society. When I step out of my home, how I’m perceived by White people is immediately revealed. Some are genuinely kind and make it easier to discern if I am in the company of a friend or foe. These are the people who among other things, don’t become defensive when the topic of conversation in a group discussion turns to racism. Instead of deflecting the blame to Black people or going for the gold in the Oppression Olympics, they are thoughtful of the conditions we are subjected to and create action plans to evoke positive change.

But just as every coin has two sides, I also encounter those who instantly deem me unworthy of even polite acknowledgment. When this type of person crosses my path, I, just like every other Black person, understand who and what I’m dealing with since I have experienced this type of passive-aggressive hatred my entire life. This is the co-worker that knows who I am but walks right past as if I am invisible if they see me outside of work. Or the stranger at a store who attempts to step in line in front of me without a word because they can’t be bothered to wait longer than me. And I cannot leave out the person who makes careless comments about injustices against Black people. They take pleasure in openly confirming their stance that our communities do not deserve the equity and autonomy that others possess freely without the burden of proving they are worthy to receive it.

When I immerse myself in thoughts of how racism has affected not just my entire family for generations but every Black person in this country and around the world, it truly becomes overwhelming. Those who have never experienced it cannot begin to imagine the magnitude of carrying this load every single day, so a much-needed break is definitely in order.

Let’s imagine that racism took a holiday for 24 hours. Since that’s not long enough to achieve truly ground-breaking goals, I’ve just listed five simple, everyday things I would do with that time:

1. I would submit my manuscripts to every large publishing house with the certainty of acceptance and a hefty advance: It’s disheartening that while a plethora of books by White authors are regularly accepted by major publishing houses, only a handful of Black authors are able to receive the same consideration. Even if a Black author secures a seat at the table with a major publisher, they are often paid less than their White counterparts. But in my racism-free world, I would write exactly what I wanted about racial disparities and injustice and would send my submissions with a smile knowing that they would not only be acknowledged, but also rewarded with a lucrative advance and contract.
2. I would challenge any police officer who pulled me over: If I happened to be stopped by police for a traffic violation that I didn’t agree with, I would freely express myself and debate their decision politely, but fearlessly. I wouldn’t need to reach for my phone to record the situation and I would avoid the horrible experience of a panic attack that often surfaced when my survival is compromised. I would sit casually in my car without gripping the steering wheel or desperately trying not to make any sudden moves. We would speak to each other like human beings and have a safe, normal, and incident-free interaction.
3. I would go to the doctor feeling confident that my concerns would be addressed and treated: I would express my health issues with my doctor knowing I would not be ignored or made to feel that my symptoms weren’t valid. Tests would be ordered to further confirm or rule out a diagnosis, and an effective action plan would be implemented to ensure my full and safe recovery. I wouldn’t be rushed through my explanations of what was going on with my own body and I would leave the office feeling as if my life as a Black woman was just as worthy of being saved as any other.
4. I would shop in any department store knowing I wouldn’t be profiled or followed: There would be no rush to make a selection and no instinct to leave out of disgust due to the treatment I received from the sales staff. Instead, I would take my time and browse freely without looking over my shoulder. The only interaction I would expect to have with a salesperson was when they approached to help me find a cute outfit. I wouldn’t get the “raised eyebrow stare” for selecting an expensive piece because there would be no bias associated with whether or not I could afford it. I wouldn’t be followed, harassed, or ignored when I needed help. I would be respected for choosing to spend my hard-earned money in a particular store since I could have easily chosen any business to support.
5. I would enjoy being viewed as an individual human being: There would be no looks laced with pre-judgment or hatred simply because my skin is brown. I would be evaluated based only on my individual statements and actions. The need to be constantly cognizant of limitations that I might face because of the way my people are viewed as a whole would disappear. Instead, I could exhale knowing that anyone I interacted with would make an assessment of me solely based on what I presented to them as a person. I would get a fair shot at whatever I set out to do and be granted a level playing field to execute my plans.

Some may read this list and find it rather simplistic and they would be absolutely correct. It speaks volumes about the conditions of this society when craving equality and true freedom is a wistful dream for some and an automatic privilege for White Americans. Just as Joe Black had to return to his reality of being the most dreaded presence on earth, we as Black people must live with the knowledge that our lives do not carry the same value in this world as our White counterparts. And there’s no identity we can assume to escape the fate we have been sentenced to carry simply because of the color of our skin.

The things you take for granted, someone else may be praying for.