One of the many things I’ve learned here on DK is that there is a rule (of thumb) about asking a question with your title. Basically the rule says you already know the answer to the question. There are different takes on the practice, but I have noticed it is usually true.
In this case, I honestly do not know the answer.
Can a white person teach anyone anything about Racism? If so, how?
I don’t want to overtalk this. I don’t want to overthink this. I believe I have done enough of that. Plenty of that. Talkin’ and thinkin’ about racism and telling other people what’s what.
And here I sit, white as can be.
I’ve been a contributing “member” of DK since January 2016. I’ve written 171 diaries in those 8 years, more than half having something to do with Black issues and/or racism. Most of us write about what we are passionate about, what we know. I have a fairly extensive background in Black History, both as a student and a teacher, working at length with at-risk (Black and Other) youth. I’ve had many Black friends and coworkers and neighbors. Good friends. (How fucking lame does that sound?)
Because here I sit, white as can be. Do I have any real experience with racism?
Complications from a brain aneurysm years ago drastically altered the path of my physical and professional life, but allowed me to be more involved in politics and community work and to be more involved in raising my grandchildren. I never stopped caring or learning or fighting for social and racial justice. When I recovered enough after being “medically retired” I immediately threw myself into Obama’s 2008 campaign. (I even got to shake his hand!)
This passion started for me when I was a child. Almost before I can remember. I have many memories and stories that would help to explain why racial justice has always mattered so much to me — a little white girl, daughter of a minister during the Civil Rights Movement. A shy, barely supervised girl who grew up in an all-white suburb on the west side of Denver in the 60s and 70s, I was nevertheless exposed to some unusual and powerful experiences, some enriching, some traumatic. But my stories are not the point of this diary.
Now as a (still white) grandmother of 11 children (not all white) aged 5 -27, in my late 60s with a few pretty serious health issues (though still very lucky) — I no longer interact in real life with that many Black friends (or that many people at all, tbh) but I have been an active member of Black Kos for about 6 years.
That’s when my real lessons began. I have learned a lot.
I keep learning every day.
Last week there was a mini-storm here at DK around an AP article reporting on the death of O.J.Simpson. It devolved pretty quickly re racial misunderstanding and harsh accusations, but was basically resolved within a few days. People were hurt. Flags were posted. We’ve seen it before around here.
My take on the “incident” is this:
An AP report came out on Simpson’s death. A handful of folks made the usual comments, a few rejoiced at the death of a “horrible monster who got away with murder” and said so. Some can get pretty carried away with it, probably without really thinking it through. Anyway, we don’t need to relive it. Suffice it to say, Black folk saw it much differently than the most vocal whyte folk that were heard that day.
I got involved after the fact, after a lot of damage had been done and a highly respected but often controversial Black Kos member had been accused of being a troll and put in a temporary time out. I know hurtful things were said back and forth. (I probably said some of them.)
And that is what this diary is really about. When it was all said and done, I had a few lingering conversations with some members I have disagreed with before. One in particular I’ve come crosswise around “Black” issues, though we generally seem to agree on most things. It’s been a pleasant surprise to find he has been willing to agree to disagree with me on issues we don’t see eye to eye on, as we have different life perspectives and are able to accept that about each other. Our disagreements were mostly of the racial variety. Anyway, somewhere in our back and forth with each other, he made a pretty biting comment which absolutely shook me to my quick.
It was basically: Who the hell are you to preach to me (he’s Chicano) about racism? And basically stick it where the sun don’t shine.
Wow.
Who the hell did I think I was? And who the hell have I thought I was all this time?
Because here I have lived my life everyday, walkin’ around in this white skin.
SP and I have subsequently had several conversations around this, and come to a much deeper understanding of each other’s perspectives and lives, and even an appreciation, I think, of how important it is to communicate beyond the skin-deep (pun intended) insults we humans can so easily throw out at each other. Again, however, that is not the point of this diary.
The point is, I have taken a new look at myself. And I am quite stunned. And fairly dismayed.
What have I been thinking all this time?
Can a white person teach anyone anything about racism? Seriously?
I can’t really imagine a man being an effective feminism teacher. I can’t imagine a straight person doing much good instructing others about how to deal with the LGBTQ folks in their lives. Or a lawyer having a whole lot to say to mixed media artists. Of course, there are limited situations where such people might have some insightful input. But I’m sure you are catching my drift.
I find myself humbled, almost ashamed, but certainly understanding that I owe an apology to many people here at Daily Kos, and at Black Kos, for my myopic perspective and “preachiness.”
I don’t really know how to proceed from here. The struggle for racial justice has been part of my life for nearly 60 years, I imagine since Martin Luther King, Jr. died, and I saw my mom cry for the first time ever. I was 10 years old. Some days or weeks later my family attended a memorial for him at the Denver Civic Center. I have never forgotten the feeling of standing there, elbow high, among tens of thousands of grieving, swaying Black people, all of us holding hands, singing together:
“We shall overcome, someday.”
So, I really am asking this question.
Can a white person teach anyone anything about Racism? If so, how?
I hope you’ll share your sincere thoughts in the comments, whichever side of the rainbow’s spectrum you hail from.
(One of my more pertinent mid-life personal “Coming to racial awareness” diaries was: Racism, Trauma and the Cog Railway. I do actually have receipts, going way back. My dear friend and honored Sis, Denise Oliver Velez, knows. She has lovingly listened to so many of my stories over the years, even helped me verify details of some of them that I was too young to quite remember.)
And to those I may have offended with my know-it-all-perspective, please accept my apology. I need to find a better approach. Please help me.