TGG020: How to be a better ally
FOCUS OF THE WEEK: Allyship
White Woman Calls Cops on Black Woman Waiting for an Uber
White Woman Calls Police on Eight-Year-Old Girl Selling Water
A White Man Calls Police on a Black Woman Using Neighborhood Pool
Woman Calls Police on Black Family for BBQing At Lake in Oakland
California Safeway Calls Cops on Black Woman Donating Food to Homeless
In his compelling and oftentimes humorous TED Talk, Baratunde Thurston calls attention to this jarring genre of headlines that has become common in American society. In every story -- each of which is true -- “The subject is usually white, the target is usually black, and the activities are anything, from sitting in a Starbucks to using the wrong type of barbecue to napping." He goes on, "All of these activities add up to living. Our existence is being interpreted as crime.”
Today’s article is not about the small percentage of people who decided to use civil rights protests as an opportunity to loot. Although as John Oliver said, “If you’ve said the name Macy’s more than you’ve said Breonna Taylor this week, you can very much f**k off.” Nor is today’s article about rattling off facts that you should be researching on your own, like how one in three black men between the ages of 18 and 30 is in jail, in prison, on probation or parole, or that police use of force that happens in response to 9-11 calls increases as the percentage of the white population increases, or how Black Americans are two-and-a-half times as likely as white Americans to be killed by the police.
Today’s article is about how to be better allies, specifically how white people with white privilege like myself can work to become better allies. While my intention is to speak primarily to those in my audience who are white, there are learnings that all non-black folks can absorb. It’s not meant to educate on systemic oppression or anti-blackness, because I’m not the person to teach those things and this newsletter has a word limit. This is about acknowledging that if you are not actively working to end racism, then you are part of the problem (yes! you, me). White people must recognize that being white comes with certain inherent advantages and privileges. And unless you are working to understand and use that privilege to support communities experiencing oppression or exploitation, you are part of the problem. Once you accept that, it’s easier to drop the “good intentions” charade and take responsibility.
Rise up.
Realizing you’re part of the problem? It’s uncomfortable. Just as it’s uncomfortable for me to acknowledge that in the past I have committed microaggressions and made others feel small. But as Robin DiAngelo notes in White Fragility, “The key to moving forward is what we do with our discomfort. We can use it as a door out—blame the messenger and disregard the message. Or we can use it as a door in by asking, Why does this unsettle me? What would it mean for me if this were true?”
If today’s issue sounds unappealing because it doesn’t apply to you, I invite you to reflect on Rachel Cargle’s words, “It is never the offender who gets to decide when they've offended someone.” Or maybe you’re thinking, “This is a wellness newsletter, stay in your lane!” Then Karen, to you I say: part of being well is being a good human. Like Thurston’s and Cargle’s, many of the voices you’ll see amplified today are Black voices. The reason I am releasing this issue is because to remain silent is to co-sign. But, those most affected deserve the microphone.
Let’s talk about allyship.
“Ally” has been getting tossed around a lot, like “organic” or “Kyle, you’re on mute.” In her article “On Making Black Lives Matter,” Roxane Gay writes of allyship, “Black people do not need allies. We need people to stand up and take on the problems borne of oppression as their own, without remove or distance. We need people to do this even if they cannot fully understand what it's like to be oppressed for their race or ethnicity, gender, sexuality, ability, class, religion, or other marker of identity. We need people to use common sense to figure out how to participate in social justice.” The key here? Doing. As noted by Reverend Timothy Murphy on Code Switch, allyship is an action (or lifelong series of actions), not a label or way to manage how others perceive you. Think of ally not as a noun, but as a verb.
Go on.
Allyship has no ending, no final level that you pass before receiving the “Congratulations! You’re an ally!” email in your inbox. It’s ongoing. Marching in one Pride Parade does not give you the “Ally” stamp for life. That’s like eating one bite of salad and thinking your body will forever be a temple. Sorry Brad, but you still consumed two growlers and an entire deep dish pizza after your girlfriend made you do her favorite pilates instructor’s Instagram Live class last weekend, and have a lot of work to do before you can claim to be the epitome of health. Focus less on identity and labels, more on actions and relationships. As emphasized by the guests on Code Switch, it’s important to build trust over time, rather than parachuting in.
Strive to be an ally because supporting those who are oppressed is the right thing to do. Be an ally because you support a future where equality exists. Be an ally because mothers -- of Trayvon Martin, of Eric Garner, and too many others -- are being stripped of their babies. Be an ally because thoughts and prayers are no substitute for policy changes and actions. Be an ally because you recognize the mutual universal benefit of equality. Be an ally because Black lives matter more than white feelings. Be an ally because Black Lives Matter. Then keep this fire alive when those in power propose Muslim bans and blame marginalized groups for a public health crisis.
Which brings us to..white privilege.
Why talk about white privilege in a conversation about allyship? I’ll pass it over to ShiShi Rose, one of the organizers of the Women’s March, who broke it down in a Facebook post: “I want to remind you that that is a privilege. It's a privilege that white supremacy wasn't at the forefront of your reality, because you benefit from it. I want to remind you that no ally ever got very far, in any movement, without acknowledgment of their own privilege daily. You do not just get to join the efforts that people of color have been working for their entire lives to both teach and survive, without doing work, too.” It’s easy to say, “Not my problem, not my struggle, not my burden.” But consider this: without white privilege, there is no history of systemic oppression.
The work we allies need to do starts on the inside. The National Equity Project uses Emily Style’s window and mirror metaphor for examining, unpacking, and mitigating our own biases while dismantling the structures that hold inequity in place (“inequity” meaning the fact that a situation is not fair). Each of us must look in the mirror to see the ways our lived experiences have shaped our attitudes, beliefs, and biases. With increased knowledge of ourselves, we look out the window to see how racism, sexism, and other kinds of systemic oppression result in systemic advantages for some, and systemic disadvantages for others. Learning doesn’t happen in a vacuum; it’s contextual. When we put in the work to fully hear others and deeply see them, we begin to catch glimpses of ourselves when we look out the window. That’s called humanity: the realization that we come from the same roots, that we belong to each other.
We talk about privilege when we talk about allyship in effort to lead from the inside out -- doing the work inside ourselves, inside our organizations, and in our communities -- in order to understand our own biases and the role we must play in dismantling inequitable structures and policies.
So what exactly is white privilege?
I thought you’d never ask. Rachel Cargle explains it well: “White privilege has nothing to do with who you are as a person. It has everything to do with the systematic realities of the world we live in which oppresses people who are black and benefits people who are white at all levels of society.” She goes on, “So when white people dismiss the idea of privilege with statements like “but I had it hard too”...it’s irrelevant. Because no matter how poor you were, no matter what neighborhood you grew up in, no matter what struggle you identify with you were still white while experiencing it which means compared to any black person living a paralleled experience you were indeed reaping the benefits of societal preference towards white skin... Realize that no matter “how good” black people are, no matter how well-spoken, how successful, how wealthy, or how educated we bring ourselves to be, racism and unfair treatment due to skin color remains. White privilege isn’t a stab at your character it’s a reminder of the world we live in. Acknowledging it promotes a shift in our culture. Dismissing it twists the knife in our country’s already wounded system.”
Read her words again. Then maybe one more time for safekeeping. Yes, your life can be hard AND you can still benefit from white privilege. They are not mutually exclusive. White people like I must address my privilege and use my privilege in ways others can’t. For instance, it is a privilege to have a platform and an ability to speak to white people. It’s not the responsibility of a random Black person to walk up to your racist in-law and explain to them why their life matters. You’re already at the dinner table with him. It’s on you. It is a privilege to know these people and have their attention, as it is an opportunity to educate.
Before getting defensive...
Let’s talk about what white privilege isn’t. White privilege is not class privilege (which means you were born into money). It is not about what white people do get, but rather what white people don’t get. White people don’t get racially profiled or have their resumes tossed asside nearly as much as other groups do. White privilege is not a synonym for racist (as being anti-racist is based on actions, not skin color). White privilege is not something you can just acknowledge and move on from. It must be used continuously to support communities experiencing oppression.
Let’s bring it a little closer to home. The Boise State Writing Center developed this nifty checklist to help others think about their privilege. Read through this list. If you find yourself nodding and saying "yes" to most of these things, you are benefiting from this privilege.
I can expect that I’ll receive days off from work for holidays that matter to me.
People know how to pronounce my name; I am never mocked or perceived as a threat because of my name.
I know that the police and other state authorities are there to protect me.
People of my race are widely represented in media, positively as well as negatively.
When I am told about our national heritage or about ‘civilization’, I am shown that people of my color made it what it is.
I can expect to see many students and professors of my race on campus.
I do not often have to think about my race or ethnicity--in fact, I don’t really notice it.
I do not have to worry about incarceration unless I commit a very serious crime.
People do not assume that I am unintelligent or lazy based on my race.
There have never been attempts to scientifically or socially eliminate people of my race or ethnicity.
Other people attribute my successes to my personal merit.
My race or ethnicity will not make people around me uncomfortable.
I do not have to worry about being chosen last for a job or housing due to my race or ethnicity.
I can move into a new neighborhood, start a new job, or enter a new school or class and know that the people around me will generally respect and feel safe around me.
I can go to a store or spend money knowing that no one will be suspicious of me.
I am seen as an individual; I am never held personally responsible for the actions of other people of my race or ethnicity.
Note: Boise State Writing Center has a number of checklists that I highly recommend browsing.
Buckle up, there's a long road ahead.
Acknowledging privilege and striving to be an ally will not be easy. As the Code Switch guests noted, allyship inherently involves giving up certain things. Reposting articles and signing petitions isn’t enough. Denying capital from companies not actively working to create safer spaces, having countless difficult conversations that may result in severed relationships -- these are the sacrifices you must make to create opportunities for others. Put that privilege on the line. It isn’t easy because it shouldn’t be. It’s like exercising: if your workout feels easy and breezy, then you need to give yourself the kick in the ass you need to make it feel hard and uncomfortable. As Jen Winston notes, “Doing this work doesn’t erase the fact that you still benefit from these systems. When you start to think you’re “one of the good ones,” check yourself.”
Time to get going.
You know I love me a good call to action at the end of a newsletter. Today’s action items come from ShiShi Rose. Before reaching out to a Black friend asking, “What can I do?” go through this checklist:
Talk less, listen more. Observe. Take in art and media created by people of color. Research. Unlearn the lessons you’ve been taught for so many years. Read books (a lot of books) by Black authors. Drown in Black poetry. Listen to Black speeches. Expose yourself not only to the horrors of history, but also to the beauty that has always been present in communities of color, “Beauty that was covered over because the need to see white faces depicted was more important.” Teach your children. Make those difficult calls. Speak up, because “You have been silent for long enough. Now is the time to realize that you should have joined us sooner. But since you're here now, it's time to get to work.”
Last but certainly not least, VOTE.
Strive to be an ally. Take the back seat and let those most affected drive. If you have not yet started your journey, the time is now. People are dying waiting for you to catch up.
Thank you to Julianne & Ankita for your help. Grateful for your wisdom & your guidance.
Katie
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