A Post Long Overdue
By now, everyone’s read a few “White-woman-wrestles-with-guilt-over-a-lifetime-of-blindness-to-racial-injustice” posts. Well, here comes another one. No photos today either, just words.
This post was supposed to be about a trip to Puerto Rico last year. Or all about my fish pond. I haven’t been blogging long enough to have lots of posts scheduled. But the reason I am 3 weeks overdue in posting is because I have not been able to think about anything else since I watched George Floyd murdered on video. I want to share my thoughts with you as I don’t think I can write about anything else until I do.
I could be a White privilege poster child. Growing up in the 60’s in the rural upper South, there was one Black child in my entire elementary school and I had no Black friends in high school or college. I was raised to be proud of my family’s Confederate veterans, but we never spoke of the ones who “fought for the other side” – the Union. Being from Kentucky, there were plenty on both.
After working five years as a cooking instructor at a vocational school in the projects where 90% of my students were Black, I cringe to think I actually said I had “ghetto fatigue” – as I walked out at the end of the day and drove out of the city to the green hills of the farm that has been in my family for two generations. Who did I think I was, blissful in my ignorance? Note: this is also where I learned the term DWB – Driving While Black, by the way – I just didn’t know how lethal it really was.
Sure, I watched 12 Years A Slave and shivered to know it was a true story. I’d watched Roots as a child and Harriet in the theater last year, and read Between the World and Me by Ta-Nihisi Coates and thought I was “woke”. But I was living in a bubble-wrapped world of complacency and ignorance. In To Kill A Mockingbird, Atticus Finch speaks of prejudice and discrimination and says “Don’t fool yourselves–it’s all adding up and one of these days we’re going to pay the bill for it. I hope it’s not in you children’s time”. Well, I feel like the bill has come due – loooong overdue…
Now I’m doing the work – the reading, the watching, the listening. We’ve all seen the book lists and what movies and series to watch – and I’m starting to work though them. Thanks to lots of great recommendations on social media, I am following black writers on Instagram, and what they have written this past week has been blistering. I’ve been reminded that it’s a privilege to educate yourself about racism instead of experiencing it. I also see bitter criticism of what people like me are doing – we are seen as dilettants, dabblers in the current fad of anti-racism, who will move on to the next “cause du jour” next week. Post a black square on IG, get a photo op at a protest, quote some MLK and Maya Angelou, and drive back into your gated community. And who can blame them?
A suggestion on one of the myriad “What Can White People Do to Help” lists was to reach out to Black friends and ask how they’re doing in this time of anguish and turmoil. While I don’t have any close Black friends (which is a whole ‘nother subject), I do have several people I worked with over the years that I consider friends, and I emailed/messaged them to ask how they were doing and to “offer support” (and I had no idea what I meant by that). I was prepared for some silence, or some “I haven’t heard from you in 5 years, the latest Black man’s murder is caught on video, and you message me NOW? I don’t have time for your white guilt.”
Whatever they may have thought, every single person responded with great kindess and appreciation. And I took the opportunity to shut up and listen.
I heard from T, a former student, a convicted felon who served his time, and one of the gentlest people I know. T. wrote “Racism has always existed in my life daily since I was a kid. It’s all about how I choose to deal with it. There’s good and bad in all races- we know that, and for the most part, I just ignore the ignorance. But that video of the policeman killing that man in Minneapolis cut me to my soul. The total lack of concern on that man’s face for that other man’s life, knowing he was being recorded, brought out a hate in me that I haven’t felt in a long time. Police are killing our race on a regular basis and being recorded doing it and getting justified for it. People black and white are tired of it and I feel their rage. We are living in the end of days – it feels like Sodom and Gomorrah. Thank you for your concern – I love you, lady.”
My friend Sonia (not her real name) is a formidable Black woman with a social work degree who now works for a private equity firm. She and her husband came from deep poverty to owning real estate throughout the city and with a child about to enter law school. Her husband just retired from the police force in January. She told me of the heartbreak of her and her husband’s families who still live in St. Louis and Chicago, who have no place to buy food or medicine after rioting burned their neighborhoods. She is furious at outside agitators who infiltrate peaceful demonstrations to loot and destroy, as well as politicians who show up in their neighborhoods before elections, promise the world and are never heard from again by their constituents. I asked her what the answer was and she said “unconditional love”. And “going into these neighborhoods and doing the work, not just showing up for a photo for your social media”.
I was touched deeply by someone I’ve never met: Ernest Skelton, who you may have read about on a Facebook post gone viral here. He is an educated and respectable small business owner, who cannot drive his business vehicle, in uniform, after dark in Myrtle Beach, SC for fear of deadly harassment by the local police. He only told this story when the White woman whose washer he was fixing asked about his experiences with racism. We may think this only happens in the darkest backwoods, not a place we take our families to bask on the white sands and play golf, but Ernest estimates he is pulled over every couple of months because he “fits the description”. If you haven’t already, please read his story. The woman who wrote it, his customer Caroline Crockett Brock, used her privilege and platform in a way that resonated with hundreds of thousands of people already.
I know a White man who has two Black sons-in-law, several bi-racial grandchildren, and a son and son-in-law who are policemen. He has a perspective that is unique among the White people I know. And his heart is broken in two. He fears for his grandchildren in a world he can’t protect them from. I have brown nephews, and I fear for them as they grow to manhood.
I attended a protest last week and recognized a woman I know who has adopted 3 children, including two Black sons, now teenagers. She carried a sign reading “Don’t Kill My Sons” and her face was stricken. I wonder how she ever sleeps at night until they’re both home in bed.
I think my small-town police force is excellent, but I have no idea what our Black citizens think. I want to attend the next Citizen’s Police Academy, where you ride along on calls and learn what challenges the police face. I don’t know if our police use body cameras, or if so, what the protocols are. I will find out, as well as what independent police oversight exists. I will ask our local leaders for more citizen involvement and transparency.
I want to see more joint services between my church and the Black church next door – not just once a year for the White people to sway and clap to the great music – but a true fellowship of the heart, and an ongoing community partnership.
These are just tiny drops in a bucket, from a sea that’s been filling for hundreds of years. We won’t wash this scourge away in a year, a decade or maybe even a century, but we must do more. My fear is that the righteous outrage that might change public policy and private prejudice will be washed away in the next news cycle – that our white lives will return “to normal” after a vaccine is found for the virus and the ashes and broken glass have been cleared from our streets. But the “normal” of racial oppression must never be “normal” again.
I was determined not to get political in my blog, and this is NOT politics – it is about human decency. Not all my posts will make you squirm with discomfort, but if this one did, I’m not apologizing. Don’t worry, I’ll be back to writing about food, fashion and travel soon. But I resolve to NOT stop listening, asking, questioning, reading, learning or trying to make a difference. I hope you won’t either. I’d love to hear what these last weeks have taught you about our society and about yourself, and what you’re doing as a consequence.
27 Comments
Sue Burpee
Bravo, Mary Katherine. A wonderful post. I’ve been squirming for two weeks wondering what to do, how to publicly approach the issue on my blog, then if I should revisit it. And more importantly what to do behind the scenes. I donated to support campaigns and funds in Canada and in your country. Bought some books to read. And now the real work begins.
mkmiller
Thanks, Sue – I really appreciate it! I so appreciate your Canadian perspective, and suspect we are kindred spirits in many ways. Let’s all encourage each other in this vital work.
Gail
Bravo for your honesty Mary Katherine. My experiences have been very similar, although in the UK, and it ios humbling now to catch up with the reading and learning. George Floyd may have left a tremendous legacy, time will tell.
mkmiller
Thanks so much, Gail – yes, time will tell!
Janet Replogle
My dearest friend,
I’m so proud of you for writing this post. It didn’t make me squirm, but it did make me think. I still cannot put into words how I am feeling. I want to turn away from the hate and pretend it’s not there – talk about White privilege! My brothers and sisters of color do not have that opportunity. It’s in their face. Literally. And my heart aches. We need to feel that pain and not turn away. We need to understand – really understand.
A member of my church offered to start a discussion group on the book “How to be an Antiracist” by Ibram X. Kendi a professor at American University. I am ordering the book and participating. There is also a companion workbook.
mkmiller
Thanks so much, dear one. The discussion group sounds wonderful – I can’t wait to hear about it, and I’ll put the book on my list, too.
Frances
A thoughtful and honest post on a topic I’ve been thinking about. I followed you here from your comment on my friend Sue’s post, so you know that she and I have been chatting about how our commitment to anti-racist work might be integrated into our blogs. Probing the racist terms or behaviours or assumptions we’ve unwittingly adopted — as you do here, with your comment about having used the term “ghetto fatigue”–is a powerful starting point, allowing others a more comfortable space for probing and admitting their own internalized racism. And then beginning our work by changing that. . . Still working out what I will do at my own blog, staying quiet there for the moment, so I really appreciate yours and Sue’s example. Thank you!
mkmiller
Thank you so much, Frances. I’ve been scared of writing this post for weeks, but Sue’s post last week really inspired me.
Jaye L.
Thank you for this. I have been struggling to even put into words my feelings and thoughts – this is the best thing I have read that resonates with me. It is so hard to realize that in this year, 2020, we are still struggling with racism in our country. It is so wrong but so real – still….. I, too, will order the book, How to be an Antiracist, mentioned in the comments. I especially love your remark, “…this is NOT politics – it is about human decency.” Amen to that.
mkmiller
Thank you SO much! I really recommend Between the World and Me, on audio read by the author, too.
DAVID
MK, Well said.
To me it is all about the tolerances for differences in people. Everyone has different desires, skills, abilities, personal and family history. To me differences are what makes the world interesting. In the USA, as a male WASP, I know I am lucky. But I have tried to treat all others, be they woman, black, hispanic, LGBTQIA, Muslim, not college educated, mentally disabled, physically disabled (all groups that have fought for or are still fighting for their rights in the USA) with tolerance and understanding.
What I can’t tolerate is violence. The world has a long history of violence and oppression. I couldn’t watch GOT because it showed so much violence. I feel some people are naturally more violent. I feel that sometimes violence is triggered, in otherwise calm people, by drugs, alcohol or strong dogma. I try to stay clear of those people.
mkmiller
Agreed – violence is never the answer, David. Thanks!
jodie filogomo
Definitely a great subject and one we should all think about more. I’ve done ride alongs with the police and it’s eye opening. It’s like EVERYTHING….walk a mile in someone’s shoes.
XOOX
Jodie
mkmiller
I’m really looking forward to those ride-alongs, Jodie – perspective is everything!
Susan
Oh, Mary Katherine, this blog post was amazing. I think the last few weeks have been so eye opening. I am often the only white woman in the classroom, and still I did not see. Hopefully, something good comes.
mkmiller
Wow, thanks so much Susan! Glad and sorry at the same time I’m not the only one….
Connie Wright Stanley
Mary Katherine,
Your post was honest and truly spoke to the moment we are living in. Thank you for speaking up. It isn’t easy.
My background was similar. Growing up in Roanoke, Virginia we seldom saw or met anyone that was not white. My junior high school was integrated as I started my first year there in the 7th grade. I remember my best friend’s parents took her out of the City school system and lied that she lived with an aunt in the county so that she could continue to go to an all white county school. I vaguely remember my parents talking about maybe sending me to a private school. We couldn’t afford private school so it was decided I would stay in the city school system. Ironically the school was named after Robert E. Lee. I never had an issue but that was mainly because all the black kids stuck together and all the white kids stuck together and rarely had any interaction with one another. I rode a city bus home to my all white community. So no interaction at all after school. Fast forward to when I starting working. In the bank in 1970 I rarely saw a black person except for our courier. More years went by and I found myself at the University of Virginia for Virginia Bankers school. When we arrived on campus we were told don’t go out alone. Especially at night. I considered myself to be open minded and certainly did not think I had a racist bone in my body if you had asked me. One evening I was on my own with nothing planned. During this time of my life I was running several miles a day up to a max of about 10 miles on the weekends. I was more than a bit cocky about being able to just don my running shoes and run home if the car broke down. I was also addicted to running in a good way I guess. So I set out on a run and had a great time exploring Cville. As I was running the last leg back to campus I heard what I thought was someone shouting. I turned and saw three young black men a couple hundred yards behind. They saw me look back. They shouted something again. My heart started racing. I thought oh no I was told this was dangerous and not to go out alone. Dumb, Dumb, Dumb. Then I sped up and ran as fast as my short legs would carry me back to campus. As I made it to the entrance of the dorm I stopped and looked back. I saw three of my classmates. I wanted to die right there of embarrassment when my black male classmates walked over and said hello. They did not comment but they knew and I knew I sped up and ran away from them because they were Black and I was afraid of them. So we are indeed a product of our upbringing and our experiences. Since that time I have tried to do better. I have fought to hire people of color even when others said they wouldn’t fit in. Code for our white customers won’t accept them. It wasn’t that they were not qualified. They were. Much like now people will say All Lives Matter when confronted by Black Lives Matter. Of course all lives matter. The point is black people are not treated as if THEIR lives matter. Not a problem for white people. Code is subtle. Be on the lookout for it and call people out on it. A small step forward on a long journey forward to change.
mkmiller
Thanks so much, Connie! I think it’s really important that we tell these stories of racial bias, large and small. They’re like pieces of a shattered mirror, that once they’re glued back together, show the whole, fractured, horrible whole.
Maria Kelly
You have managed to put into words what many of us are feeling right now. To see someone take a life is brutal and awful to witness – but to kill as if it is so normalised was so shocking. Change is long overdue and I’m proud of the protestors who are out there risking themselves to make change happen. You are right though, everyone of us can do and should do more. Great blog – you are a natural! Xx
mkmiller
Thanks so much, Maria! Your blog is one of the ones that inspired a while ago to start one. I appreciate your encouragement.
Charlene Hisayasu
I connected to your blog through Sue and her High Heels In the Wilderness blog. Both of you are articulate women…especially thoughtful on these turbulent times. Thank you for sharing your views.
I am a 71 year old Japanese-American woman, 3rd generation in Southern California. It wasn’t until my college years, during the civil rights era, that I really appreciated my ethnicity. I have to admit, I felt like I had the best of all worlds. The Japanese stereotype had somewhat evolved from the WWII years and the Relocation camps of my grandparents and parents generation. The myth of “the model minority” had arisen in both positive and negative aspects. But that’s another story.
I bring up my background to say that it has been a reminiscing and re-learning process to live and participate in these days. My husband and I live in a small beach town, mostly white, near our younger son who pastors an evangelical church. For 80% of the church, he is their first non-white pastor. I have become more open about sharing my background and my more liberal thoughts amongst small groups. I am thankful for their respectful listening…and for them not leaving our church family! 😉
My husband and I are launching into a family “book club” with our older son and his wife, PhD’s in English and social justice advocates, and our younger son and his wife. I am sure this is going to be an interesting and lively family time. We are thankful for the respect and love that the two couples have for each other and for the grandchildren they have each added to our multi-ethnic family. The grandchildren are absolutely beautiful, by the way. 😊
I so agree with you that it is about human decency. May God grant us the ability to grow and see each other with His eyes. It is with humble appreciation that I look forward to new views and broadening vistas for these challenging times.
Thank you for this opportunity to fine tune and share my thoughts and direction.
mkmiller
Charlene,
Thanks SO much for weighing in! I loved reading your story. I work for a theological seminary, and I loved picturing your son’s congregation with their first non-white pastor. I hope you’ll find this space one for respectful listening as well. I hope we hear from you again.
Gudrun (Goodie) Graetz
Dear, dear MK – I am just so proud of you I could burst! What you wrote is so powerful and so eloquently expressed. Every person of good will must agree wholeheartedly with your position. One of the best things in my life happened when I became a volunteer at Best Friends (formerly Helping Hands) founded by Virginia Bell of Lexington, a daycare program for people with dementia. I can hardly describe the joy and satisfaction I receive from being friends with black- or white-skinned people, difficult or friendly, impaired or high-functioning, lovable or not so much. Sometimes all I can say (silently) is thank you, thank you – how could I be so blessed?
Bettye L Rainwater
I’m so glad you mentioned your blog post to me. It is very powerful.
I got an embarrassed chuckle out of “White-woman-wrestles-with-guilt-over-a-lifetime-of-blindness-to-racial-injustice” posts. WWWWGOALOBTRI right here.
“it’s a privilege to educate yourself about racism instead of experiencing it,” this is so true.
I take back my embarrassed chuckle. Well, a little bit. We SHOULD be talking about all of this, no matter how we got here. All we can do is start today and move forward. Be better tomorrow.
Peace,
Bettye
mkmiller
Thanks, Bettye! So many of us WWWWGOALOBTRIs are all in the same place, and I’m sure to many it seems like we’re ALL very late to the party. But we can try to make up for lost time. Thanks for reading!
Helen
Mary Katherine a truthful and honest look at a long term disease we must eradicate. There are many ways in which we become products of our upbringing if we allow it. The test will be to break the mould and create anew fir our own offspring and thus the future x
mkmiller
Agreed, Helen. Thanks for reading!