Still reading chapters from Waking Up White, by Debbie Irving, and blogging my responses as I read. Quotes are from the book, and my responses follow.
I’ve been doing some thinking lately about all this. And by “all this” I mean “all the stuff I read and write and think and say,” because I don’t know if—beyond confirming with others who are already convinced—I’m doing anything effective. And to be as blunt as possible about this: I’m not sure, not at all sure, that what I’m doing is doing anything for me or in me or to me. I’m not sure that I’ve done anything beyond becoming more informed and aware—which are good things in and of themselves, right?—but beyond that, what exactly has been done here and what exactly is demonstrably changed in the world around me, or the world inside me?
I’m not saying I’m going to cease in my desire to provoke change in the world around me and in myself. I think those are still things that are awakened in me, that need a further awakening, and that the freedom I’m experiencing to think my own thoughts and to do my own actions are both good things. But I want to know if, in the end, I’ve moved anything to be more than simply pleased or enlightened.
Maybe it’s just not my fate to be as smart or insightful as the men and women who found themselves as agents of change. Maybe I am vastly overestimating the value of any contributions that I make to achieve what I think it the reasonably desirable world of justice and compassion and fairness and equity. Maybe with all the talk and all the relationships, I’ve been only a safety valve for others to let off steam. When I’m on my most naked island of despair, maybe it is enough for others to be amused by my scratches in the dirt, that at least they have a moment of release and humor.
Maybe I’m not really an ally or co-conspirator or team member or resource or, on the whole, helpful. I can’t deny that I’m messy and unfocused and ill-mannered in all sorts of ways.
But still, I’m going to continue, and if what I do needs to change, then I’ll do what I can to change what I do. If what I think and imagine needs to change, then I’ll work to educate myself and become more focused on reality.
I don’t know if I can really push anything further along, and I hope that I am not holding anything back or—even worse—pulling back into an unchanged, unequal, lopsided world. All I know is that I have it in me to keep on working, asking for wisdom and guidance, planting and watering and feeding, and waiting for what I hope will be a harvest. I cannot stop doing what is in me to do.
So it is again curious that the book tracks me where I am, at the moment of wondering “Am I really doing anything that can be seen as helpful, or useful, or positive?” I’m hoping that as I read I’ll get some ideas, not so that I “feel better again,” but so that I can reset both my expectations and my efforts.
When it comes to racism, there’s no such thing as neutral.
Okay.
Bang.
Here we go.
There is no place to simply watch dispassionately and provide judgment indifferently. Either you’re in the mix for good, or you’re the mix to keep the chaos continuing, whether through direct actions of malice or through being a deadweight for change. As Ms. Irving points out, quoting Dr. Zinn, when you’re all on the journey, you’re all going to get to the destination, whether you are adding good or harm.
Understanding my internalized tendencies as a white person is just a start. The ultimate goal is to interrupt, advocate, and educate without doing more harm than good—something I am in danger of doing every day.
Man, that “without doing more harm than good” really got me. That is my fear. I’m not pretending that I’m above such issues because “my heart’s in the right place.” I can be convinced that my contributions are 100% beneficent, and ignore the reality that I’m stunting the growth of everyone around me. It’s just difficult to know. I don’t really have good sounding boards around me. I’ll be honest, I think the people whom I interact with are too kind to call me out, and the reasons why I can only guess at, but I suspect that I’m seen either as essentially fragile or rigid and unconvincible. In the moment when I act or speak, I feel like “yay, you spoke up/acted up.” Then later—always later, and always always—I think “man, you were a fool and a clown. What you said hurt the people you say you love and entertained the people whose actions and words you say you oppose.” The inward recriminations just beat me down. I mean, the question is really How do I know that I’m helping? And I don’t know who can answer. Maybe they are speaking and I’m just not listening.
I’ve learned that when it comes to race, there’s no such thing as neutral: either I’m intentionally and strategically working against it, or I’m aiding and abetting the system.
I like the inclusion of “strategically,” because it gives me hope that maybe by continuing to try and to plan and to learn and even to think, that I can be a positive add to the changes needed. I wonder, though, how much this means for not just the intentionality of it, or even the strategy, but the deepness and thoroughness? That is where I think I can skate by with the minimal amount of change in me, and the minimal demands for change around me, at the lowest cost to me and with the greatest return.
I had a moment today when I had to object to a common term used in database relationships, that of “primary” and “replica” objects. The industry standard since the time where databases were invented was that the primary database is the “master,” and the replicas are “slaves.” Everyone just knows this, and the terms are broadly still in use. Now, to be absolutely fair, the industry has been slowly—very, very slowly—changing to accept default definitions that don’t encode a detestable era in white America’s power struggle over Black humans. (A struggle that still continues, in case you’d been asleep. For 400 years.) So it’s a good thing to extirpate the use.
Someone submitted a document for review, and I went at it.
But I went beyond the very terse explanation of “we have it in our Standards and Practices that we won’t use these terms.” I got the Hammond organ going and I began to preach. About how wicked and wrong it all was, how we have a history of dismissing the pain and humanity of those who are powerless, how we erase the words and lives of others because we can, about ….
Well, you can imagine that I stopped just short of the altar call on that one because I found my place.
Thank goodness I have a two-check system before I send something because I was utterly into myself and my own righteous anger. I pressed DELETE for about a minute, cleared it all out, and left a response that was actionable and useful: “This isn’t acceptable in our Standards and Practices. Use ‘primary’ and ‘replica’,” with a link to the man pages and documentation on the changes. Which is really all that was needed.
In my experience, kids who’ve felt powerless and ashamed as bystanders are relieved to be encouraged and learn strategies for intervening.
This is something I’ve seen happen in real life, and something that I want more of. I’ve seen it happen that when someone speaks out or acts up for justice, the bystanders who are sympathetic are also prompted to act and speak as well. And something I need more of is the behavioral practice so that I can more easily recognize the situation before it escalates.
I look at is this way: I’m a certified CPR guy and safety lead. The training includes a brain dump of information, sure, but we are re-trained every year with hands-on classes on how to do things and how to recognize a situation before it escalates. Someone choking, for example, will eventually pass out and die from lack of oxygen. At that point, we can be very sure that they have a blocked passageway. But if we recognize what’s going on early enough and if we have the knowledge and behavioral training, we can act up before it becomes life-threatening, and in hope correct the immediate issue.
That’s what I’d like to see for me—better tools to see and understand what’s going on in the moment, and better training on the physical actions and words to take. “When you see this, then you do and say this,” with live action and examination and questions.
I’m absolutely not an expert on whether this works for everyone, but CPR and safety training has kicked in quite a few times when there’s been an emergency. I’ve just acted by rote and salvaged a difficult situation so that the victim is helped with appropriate and verified actions. A compound fracture, a serious head wound, bleeding, piercings—there are things we do to perform first aid, and when we’re trained and confident, we just do them.
That’s maybe something that could be set up—classes and training on “How to Recognize and Respond to Racist Words and Actions.”
Opportunities abound for white people to move out of the bystander role and into the ally role in an effort to prevent racism from getting fueled and refueled every day, across every sector, and in every state, city, and town.
I believe this is true. Finding the opportunities can be difficult when we are locked in our own circles of experience.
White people often are the ones to be in the position to see the problem in action—policies being developed, hiring strategies being planned, or even racist jokes being tossed around. All of these are moments when we have a choice: Do I remain a bystander and stay silent? Or do I become an ally and ask the hard questions about how this might affect the range of people in our community or organization?
Yikes. See above. Like I said, for me what helps is more than just reading another book or even having another conversation. What helps me is having behavioral examples. Say and do. I’m at sea here, because I don’t see many such opportunities for learning using the methodologies that work for me.
The current set of resources are books, movies, classes, and lectures, which are stimulating, but ultimately, I don’t know that I need more information. Maybe more exposure to the resources will help increase my empathy, which will kick in when I encounter situations that are disturbing and destructive. Maybe I don’t need training so much as I need that empathy. I honestly do not know.
Or maybe I’m just lazy and looking for an excuse.
Do I dare suggest that because we are a group of all or mostly white people, we cannot possibly be thinking and acting on behalf of those who are not living the white experience?
This is the hard conversation to have in a white context, most especially when it involves those in positions of power over us. I can remember that last year I had such an interaction in a group where there were people several levels above me. I felt hesitant to speak up about the issues, but I did, and I pursued an answer past the answer of “let’s talk about this later.”
The powerlessness and isolation I felt as a bystander (which I didn’t even realize I was) have been replaced by a sense of empowerment that comes with feeling there’s a critical role for me in dismantling racism.
Tell me how this is done! I’m half-joking. But entirely serious about this. Let’s say that there is a critical role for me to play. Somewhere. On a stage in another town, perhaps, and I never got the casting call….
But in all honesty, I can acknowledge that I have a role to play, but I almost always don’t know what it is. What am I actually to do in the moment? That is where I fail, nearly 100% of the time. I don’t know that what I am doing at any moment is really useful.
The white ally role is a supporting one, not a leading one.
I grok this, but how much of what white “allies” do is support, and how much of what is termed “support” is actually leading and hoping others will follow and maybe applaud?
This very blog is an example. I’m trying to live out my journey in real-time here, so that what I think and feel and say and do in the moment is live and real so that the reader can see the struggle, in words as honest as I know how to make them, and perhaps be moved to start their own journey. My goal isn’t to write a book here. My goal is to move my clan of white people just a little farther along in their own journey, not from A to Z or even A to M, but maybe from A-prime to A(1+n). My goal is to share all the thoughts and moments and words, because for me when I started, and even as I continue, I don’t have a lot of people who are doing this like me, and so often I feel like I’m wandering in the dark, grasping and feeling for the walls and doors, hoping that I’m still on the path. When I encounter someone else who’s done some of the work themselves and explains it in ways that I can grasp, it’s like having a candle for a while. So the role I play is to try to be a candle for someone else in their journey, if only for a brief moment as they also struggle to understand and to walk out what they believe.
I can’t imagine that what I’m doing is a “leading” role. I follow my teachers and mentors. I read a lot, I listen a lot, I evangelize the words and actions of others as much as I can. But I’m always wondering this: Am I taking away from the work of others who are qualified to do this? Am I taking away the honor that they deserve or the followers they should have or even the monetary support they have earned?
I don’t know. That lack of knowledge haunts me because my intentions are to honor others, first.
I will always have to check my privilege, my perceptions, and my behaviors as I try to work in alliance with people of all colors in the struggle to interrupt, advocate, and educate.
HOW ARE YOU IN MY MIND?
It’s a lifelong commitment.
Man. There is nothing more to say.
Questions
What might prevent you from stepping out of the bystander role and into the ally role? Make a list of your reasons.
- I don’t know what I’m doing
- I don’t know what I should do
- I don’t want to step out of line at the wrong time
- I don’t know that I’ll help if I do step out
- I don’t want to embarrass the people I claim that I want to support
- I don’t want to make it worse for my friends. (This is a very real thing: when white people speak out/act up for our friends, in many cases our friends are going to get it worse after we’re done. Check out the constant abuse that Black voices receive in social media for posting much less direct things that we can post as white people.)
- I’m not qualified
- I’m taking over
- I’m centering myself
What do you notice as you look at this list? What might you do to overcome the obstacles you’ve listed?
It’s very me-focused, on my reputation (“I might look bad”) or on my excuses (“I might not know enough”). Also, almost paradoxically, it’s very self-deluding about my own abilities and training. I might not be a Tim Wise or Jay Smooth (two speakers I admire for their ability to be present, knowledgeable, and persuasive in the heat of the moment). But the world might not need a Samson in every encounter—maybe there’s a lesson to learn from the inexperience and moxie of a David.
As far as overcoming, I’m continually working on my knowledge, reading and listening, and I’m continually working on expanding my empathy and situational awareness. I think that I have a lot of knowledge, and while I’m going to keep on learning, I am beginning to see that either knowledge informs behavior and incites action, or knowledge become a book shelved in an abandoned library.
So I’m trying to put myself in situations where I must encounter both myself and my deficiencies, and others in all of their glorious inconsistencies. The way that I can learn to do and say requires that I do and say, and I suppose I’ll just have to live with the fact that I am going to make terrible mistakes.
Maybe I can learn from them.
For context on this series, see my kick-off post here: /2019/01/if-i-love-you-i-have-to-make-you-conscious-of-the-things-you-dont-see/
I’ve been blogging this book along with a few other people here:
Di Brown ‘Nixie’ at https://dianabrown.net/blog-challenge-waking-up-white/
This chapter (from 26-45): https://dianabrown.net/waking-up-white-the-final-chapters/
Dawn Claflin at https://dawnclaflin.wordpress.com/