I recall one of those first turning points when I was on a youth group trip at age 16. We were at the airport about to the board the plane, and I remember one of the guys in my group - who was black - got pulled aside for an extra search. He came back really upset, and although I didn't completely understand what was happening, looking back that was one of the first moments when I realized that people are treated differently because of our race.
Fast forward to Messiah College, freshman year. I was taking Intro to Sociology and Intro to Social Work, and for the first time was reading statistics in our textbooks that painted a picture of vast racial disparities in the U.S. I had known that, individually, people weren't always treated equally, but being confronted with this hard data made it clear to me how systemic the inequality is, and the profound impact it has on communities of color in particular.
Fast forward again to my junior year, when I was at Temple for a semester at Messiah's Philly Campus. Two of the best classes I ever took were at Temple that semester - Institutional Racism and Urban Sociology. Through these classes, I learned about the history of racism in this country, how insidiously it is imbedded in our institutions and systems, and the current phenomenon of "color-blind" racism. But perhaps most impactful for me, I learned about how racism has played out in urban communities, through redlining, divestment and a long history of housing discrimination; as well as the stark realities of systematically under resourced schools which inevitably lead to vast educational inequalities.
It was a documentary on educational inequalities that pushed me to my tipping point, though. I remember seeing not just statistics, but the faces and stories of children who were smart, worked hard and excelled at school, but were trapped in a system set up to fail them. I remember leaving class that day with this deep anger burning inside of me, and felt like I had to do something. So, I ran. Now anyone who knows me knows that I am not a runner - not even a little, not even close. I hate running as a rule, but that day I put on my sneakers and took off around the neighborhood - pounding the pavement with all of this energy that felt like it was going to explode inside of me. Running did nothing to change the realities of unequal education, but it was an important outlet for me nonetheless. Since that time, I can count on one hand the number of times I've gone running, but I can still mark when I feel truly outraged about injustice because that is when this desire rises within me.
I had another moment like this last week. Again, it was not statistics but someone's story of injustice that profoundly impacted me. A story of how painful, racist words were used as they never should be, and how those using them were not brought to justice. I couldn't go running this time, so instead I found myself yelling inside my car as I drove. "Damn! This is why...this is why!" This is why I have a job with the task of "eliminating racism" - and this is why, no matter how hard it is sometimes, I won't walk away. There is so much work that must be done, and there are so many people being hurt daily by racism. I must continue to be an ally, and I must challenge myself to speak up - even and especially when it is hard. Because I will never experience the impact of racism that people of color do every single day.
I often think about how I have the option - the privilege - of "turning off" when I leave the office. I don't have to think about race and racism once I am off the clock - I do not have to be aware of my whiteness when I walk down the street, when I greet my neighbors, when I watch TV or run errands. My whiteness will never have the same kind of negative impact on my experience in these mundane situations that blackness or brownness has on people of color. So I must continually challenge myself to keep my awareness turned "on" - to critically observe, listen and engage even when I don't have to, or I don't want to. And to not let myself become paralyzed when I feel overwhelmed or exhausted.
The song that has been reverberating in my head ever since it came out is "Fight Song" by Rachel Platten. I love this song because after a long day, after a long week when I feel like all of the energy has been sucked out of me and "eliminating racism" is a pipe dream so far removed from reality, I can go back to these lyrics:
Like a small boat
On the ocean
Sending big waves
Into motion
Like how a single word
Can make a heart open
I might only have one match
But I can make an explosion
And all those things I didn't say
Wrecking balls inside my brain
I will scream them loud tonight
Can you hear my voice this time?
This is my fight song
Take back my life song
Prove I'm alright song
My power's turned on
Starting right now I'll be strong
I'll play my fight song
And I don't really care if nobody else believes
'Cause I've still got a lot of fight left in me
No I've still got a lot of fight left in me.
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| At the YWCA USA conference in June. |
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