Dear White People: Thoughts on Ferguson

[It's been a long time since  I've penned  a blog post. I've been bogged down with school and work and generally too busy to get on here. But some things are so important you have to make time to talk about them. In my gender and women's studies class this week, after the decision was made by the Grand Jury to not indict Darren Wilson for the murder of Mike Brown, my professor asked us how we felt. What I intended to be a short response turned into a long outpouring of grief and frustration. Answering his questions helped me to gather my thoughts on the situation. Here they are.]

While I was disappointed and hurt by the decision, I was not surprised. That was the part that hurt me the most. I wanted so badly to be surprised. But I knew better than to raise my expectations. The US "justice" system had failed so many times before, I knew better than get my hopes up. Still I had a hard time breathing, just as I had when the Zimmerman verdict was read. My heart still sunk and tears still sprang to my eyes.

When the story of Mike Brown's murder first broke, I was engrossed. I followed every update. I wrote blog posts, and Facebook posts, I signed and promoted petitions. I was as involved as I could be from this far away. But I was not able to sleep soundly at night. I wasn't eating well. I was heart sick. I had to stop following the story to keep my sanity. Hearing the grand jury decision brought all of that back.

What made it even harder was dealing with the racist and ignorant responses that inevitably cropped up on social media. For example, a few days ago, a friend of mine posted a picture on Instagram with the hashtag #BlackLivesMatter. Shortly after, a white male commented that #AllLivesMatter. This infuriated me because, while it is true that all lives matter, in the context of this situation, that's not the argument that needs to be made. We've seen time and again how justice does not fall on the side of murdered black men and women. There is a long history in America, as we well know, of abuse and mistreatment of Black people. So when we say Black lives matter, it's because we feel it needs to be said because our society isn't reflecting that they understand that.

When I pointed this out to the young man who posted the second hashtag, and when another Black woman wrote that she felt that a majority of of his people (i.e. white people) don't care about the issue, he replied that the only race he belongs to is the human race. I kindly pointed out to that young man that his whiteness, whether he chooses to embrace it or not, privileges him and disadvantages me and other Black people. I pointed to the history of hatred and oppression in America. I showed him how the Darren Wilson situation is one in a long list of many unjustly handled cases. 

His response? "What about Dillon Taylor? Where are the protests for him?" The short version of the story on Dillon Taylor is that he was a young white male, fatally shot by a police officer wearing a body camera, after he failed to raise his hands when the officer asked him to. I am in no position to speak on whether that shooting was justified. The courts ruled that it was, and there will be no trial. His friends and family have actually been holding protests against the decision. But my heart certainly goes out to the Taylor family. To lose a loved one is a hard burden to bear. But here was this young man on Instagram, throwing this one case in my face to negate the argument that Black people are brutalized by police far too often and little-to-nothing is being done about it. And when I called him on it, he called me ignorant, and accused me of having an agenda. 

My heart is broken over the injustice Black people are facing every day, and I am expected to remain civil while thinly veiled racism is rammed down my throat. It is exhausting to feel obligated to explain our position, and point out the obvious and deflect accusations and handle ignorance when all I want to do is mourn and when all I want is allies. But everywhere you turn on social media, racism, overt and veiled, abounds. I have watched my friends fiercely defend themselves and our race against those too ignorant to understand or too hateful to sympathize. I have seen them struggle to remain calm and articulate. They, like me, are getting weary of it all. It is salt in the wounds. 

This is why I think it is incredibly important that white people, especially those who want to show support, understand that now, more than ever, they must tread carefully and LISTEN. Now is not the time for pointing out that we're all the same inside, because we're being treated differently for what we look like on the outside. We don't need our cries for justice countered with "all lives matter" and "we're all one people" because in the context of the situation, those assertions don't hold water. You cannot tell us we're all one race when we are at risk for ours and your are privileged for yours. You cannot claim to be a part of the human race as if that erases your whiteness. Whether you claim it or not, you have privilege. The only people who can claim that race doesn't matter are those who don't suffer because of it. 

White people don't get to experience the dark side of racial difference, but trust me, it's bleak from where we stand. We know that not every white person is racist and we're not saying we don't want you as allies, but singing Kumbaya isn't going to cut it. If you want to be an ally, you've got to listen. If you're blind to your privilege, don't be deaf to our voices. How else will you learn to understand what your black friends, neighbours and colleagues experience on a daily basis, why they are so angry? You cannot be an ally by ignoring our voices to assuage your guilt. Most black people don't want white people to feel guilty. We want your genuine support. But you can't give it if you're drowning us out.

Please, do not add to the grief and frustration of dealing with the injustice we face by negating our struggle and asking us to justify our grief and our anger. To me, that has been the hardest part of it all. Having to defend my anger, when the facts clearly show it is warranted is exhausting and infuriating. Yes, all lives matter, but you don't have to prove how much yours is worth. So, listen when we tell you how much ours is worth and then show us you believe it. That's all I ask of you.