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This is the fourth and final post in a series of four #4forNow articles that focused on my reflections and lessons learned from working through the book (and its companion journal) Me and White Supremacy by Layla F. Saad. See the previous post here or start from the first post here.
4 for Now
The final week of the Me and White Supremacy journaling challenge had me thinking about my relationships with others who have white privilege, and what my commitments are moving forward with my antiracist work.
Although I’ve been confronting white people more about their racist behaviors, I have not put the effort into determining their level of commitment to antiracism. Are they putting in the work? Do I need to keep the pressure on them to start the work?
I give friends and family the benefit of the doubt if I think something they say or do could be racist: perhaps I didn’t understand what they said/meant. I’m sure they didn’t mean it like that. Maybe they didn’t know what they were saying/doing.
I sometimes forget that not every white person is doing this work. When I see someone doing something I’ve learned not to, I react in one of two ways, neither of which is helpful:
- I leave it at my internal outrage, which does nothing but increase my blood pressure.
- I respond angrily and/or impatiently, which just makes us both angry.
I need to be sure I’m informing them in a way that’s helpful and inviting them to do this work with me.
I have been holding on to some values that I thought were helpful—that Black issues aren’t my business, that we should treat all folks as equals—that have actually not been helpful at all. I must learn to recognize when these values affect my behavior and adjust.
For instance, there are some conversations where I have no right to speak, such as on the suffering Black folks experience because of white supremacy. But there are other times, such as when Black folks are being mistreated by white folks, I can speak up. And to treat a Black person—who is often in danger in predominantly white spaces—the same way I’d treat a white person—who is in no such danger—is to leave them vulnerable. Until all folks ARE equal, it is not useful to treat them equally.
I must keep in mind as I go forward:
- POC are people first. They inherently deserve the same love, respect, and opportunities white folks do.
- POC are not separate from their racial identities. I can’t expect them to put their racial identities aside when we’re adressing other issues.
- In discussion with/taking action with POC, I should center their needs, not mine, and not what I think they need. Which means I need to listen first.
My antiracism work isn’t done. There’s no pat on the back because I’ve finished anything. I must remember what I’ve learned in this process. I must be more thoughtful and proactive in my antiracist work. And I must renew my commitment to this work regularly.
Layla leaves us on a positive note: “No matter who you are, you have the power to influence change in the world. Help change the world. Become a good ancestor.”
4 for Later
- Me and White Supremacy text and the Guided Journal companion by Layla F. Saad
- Browse the #MeAndWhiteSupremacy posts on Instagram (This process started as an IG challenge a few years ago. So fair warning, you may have to scroll through more recent posts to find folks actually talking about the work.)
- And check out the #MeAndWhiteSupremacy conversation on Twitter
- 103 Things White People Can Do for Racial Justice by Corinne Shutack (25-minute read)