James Baldwin* said this, I’m told: “If I love you, I have to make you conscious of the things you don’t see.” I can’t find the source of this quote, but it is widely attributed to him, and as I see no one protesting that these are not his words, I’m gonna go with it. Which leads me to the main purpose of this post: to introduce you to a new project I’ll be undertaking with a few friends, a journey to read the book “Waking Up White: and Finding Myself in the Story of Race,” by Debby Irving. I’ve not read this before, so the plan is for each of us to read the book, one or two chapters a week, then blog about it—and cross-post or cross-link as needed. We want to generate discussion among our selves, being separated by distance and career obligations, but interested in this topic for our own reasons. The book is 45 chapters long, I’m told, but the chapters are short, and they conclude with “Study Questions” that we’ll each answer in our own way. Now, I don’t to presume that any others have the same interests as I do. I’m not going to read into their energy or their investigations—they may or not tell us, and (listen carefully) that is perfectly fine. We should all do only what we’re willing to do in most things where we have choices. The choice to read this book and think through the questions is for each of us to do in our own ways. Our interests differ, and that is entirely good and right. My interests are open: I want to see racial conciliation in America. I’ve thought a lot about the why: Why do I have this interest? Why do I want this as a goal? Why does this grab my attention and lead me to seek answers? Why does this impel me to seek restoration and justice, to look for healing and redemption, to oppose and even overthrow instances of individualized and systemic racism in America? There are a few reasons. One is that, in my heart or soul or whatever it is you want to call what makes us individual humans conscious and self-acting, I want to see justice. I want to see that the right things are done. I want every one of my fellow humans to have extraordinarily rich, fulfilling, free, creative, adaptive, adventurous lives. This is for all my family of humanity, whether they are like me or far different from me. To be alive is the greatest adventure, and racism is something that destroys our humanity and our access to the wider human family. It is good and right and true to do this, and my soul and heart call me to it. Another is because of the extraordinary people I meet and become friends with, who are exceedingly kind and funny and angry and smart and loving and creative and goofy and insightful and hurried and lonely and disconnected and … well, my friends, of whom I want everything good. I want my friends to be completely free of any suppression of their opportunities or oppressions of their persons, and as I consider that everyone can become my friend when I meet them (online or IRL), I extend that idea of “wanting the best of my friends” to everyone in my human family. I love my friends, love their quirks and quibbles, their strengths and their breaking points, love their quiddities and oddities, love the individuality of their personalities, love that they morph like chameleons depending up on whether they’re inside or outside the circle of trust, love that they all have their surface appearance that they think they present as 100% real and that they have the “real” real that they always, always reveal by how they act and what they say, even what they are saying about. And another is, frankly, because for far too long I have both actively and passively participated in the literal oppression and subjugation of others who are not of my immediate tribe. I can provide you with the list of reasons I use to exculpate myself, but none of that matters, not at all. What matters is what I did and what I spread, and I was wrong to do so, and my actions were destructive. In my view, one sign of becoming an adult in this world is to own up to our actions and, as far as possible, make amends and bring restoration. We can’t unring the bell or unsqueeze the toothpaste. But we can acknowledge, and grieve, and mourn. We can repent, and then we can plant the seeds for a new harvest. So I’m on the journey to see what happens. Hope you stick around to see what happens. I have no idea how this 45-step journey ends. * And one more thing I want to mention because I think it’s interesting in a meta sort of way: notice how I was able to confidently use a quote that I cannot reliably source as being from the person I claim said or wrote it? I did so deliberately because it is one of the ways in which “whiteness” is expressed: we can colonize everything and make its meaning be what we want. I imagine that not one person in 1000 reading that quote would look to see if I quoted James Baldwin correctly. It is enough that a white guy says it, and we believe it. Let’s hope that this journey is full, complete, and honest as we discover more about ourselves and our predicament, and that we leave behind the automatic assumption that we, as white people, can always be the final arbiters of meaning and value. To follow along with the others, see also: Di Brown “Nixie” at https://dianabrown.net/blog-challenge-waking-up-white/ Dawn Claflin at https://dawnclaflin.wordpress.com/