Writing this might just be the hardest thing I have had to endure emotionally in a very long time, but I promised to be open, have courage, and not silence myself so here goes nothing.
Lately I have been reflecting on my experiences as a black woman in predominantly white spaces and the best way that I can describe it is…. Well… It is like being the main character in a play and everyone in the audience is watching you perform but no one is actually listening.
Let me explain what I mean…
It is like being the elephant in the room but no one can hear you all at the same time.
I am constantly reminded that I am “other” and I feel like my actions and words are scrutinized and yet no one ever cares to truly listen to me.
Since this is a safe space, I will share a few of my stories with you that have left me feeling like this.
1.) I went to a private “Christian” school for elementary, middle, and the very beginning of high school. I was always either the only black or one of the only black people in my classes. I was constantly reminded of the fact that my hair, skin, and weekend activities were not “normal”. I had a perm (keep in mind a perm for black people makes their hair straight not curly) and I was trying to assimilate as best as possible but it was never enough. I knew that I had to be smarter, quicker, faster, and better than my peers. Not because I cared about their opinions, but because my school administrators were literally rooting for me to fail. I was in 8th grade and I had my first ever boyfriend, a TALL red haired white boy that went to my school. He was the assistant principal’s son and he was as sweet as could be to me. This relationship however uncovered some harsh truths and I endured two very traumatic experiences because of it. First, my school was having our weekly “worship” service and my youth leader pulled me to the side and “prophesied” over me. She had recently found out that I was dating this white boy and the teachers and other faculty were not fans of this. The music was loud in the background and she grabbed my arm with a sense of urgency that I cannot forget. She looked me deep in my eyes and told me that I was going to get pregnant at 15 and that I would not be able to make anything of myself because I was “promiscuous”. Now, this was jarring to me because I was 13 years old at the time and I was very much so a virgin. I hadn’t done anything outside of a kiss and I trusted her so much. She was my pastor and I thought God Himself told her that was my destiny. I didn’t realize until after I heard her speaking in the hallway months later about how bad of an idea me dating a white boy was that I realized she was not coming from a place of prophecy, instead she was coming from a place of prejudice. As if that was not traumatic enough… I met some of his family. His grandmother to be specific…. We went to his grandmother’s house one afternoon before we headed to dinner and she welcomed me with open arms. Her home was dimly lit and it felt very warm. She was sitting in her recliner chair and she looked at me with the same eyes my youth pastor had and she said “you remind me of the maid I used to have growing up”. The 13 year old me didn’t know how to respond… I am not about to beat up an old lady, but honestly she deserved it.
You see these two incidents of racism were traumatic but what was more jarring was the response from his family to his grandmother’s commentary. His mother apologized to me in the car on the ride home and said “she is from a different time please excuse her I am so sorry”. I am sure that she meant well but I am a 28 year old woman who 15 years later I can’t forget this experience. I can’t forget the excuse for her behavior. I can’t forget that the burden was placed on me to heal from this. She apologized on her behalf but there was no follow-up. There was no conversation with her about her behavior. There was not a facilitated conversation with me to learn more about how they could respond better and protect me and people that look like me from things like this in the future. There was not a desire to learn more. There was a “she is from a different time but she is not racist because she accepts everyone” statement and I was supposed to stomach her actions with joy.
2.) I went to a PWI for college. (Predominately White Institution) After my years of obtaining my education in white spaces, I thought that I was ready for this but I was mistaken. There was a viral TikTok going around a few weeks back and it said “Was I really ugly or did I just go to a predominately white school” and it was all of these beautiful black and brown women posing this question and I felt so seen. My college has a LONG history of racism, prejudice, and ignorance to say the least. I am not proud of attending, but my reasonings for going there are a topic for another day. While I was there I was constantly reminded of the fact that I was the black girl and the token black girl in many spaces. What made it worse was dating. The black men wanted white women. The white men wanted white women. The white men wanted black women as some sort of trophy or conquest to fetishize. It was a hot mess. There were some men who genuinely appreciated and celebrated black women, but the number was few and far in between. I remember vividly I was at a party my freshman year in college about 3 weeks before school let out and I was minding my own business. I was dancing and drinking like I normally did (yes I just admitted to underage drinking, judge your mama), and a white man came up behind me. I didn’t think anything of his advances I just thought we were at a frat party and having a good time so it was fine. We danced for a few songs and he left me alone and we went about our way. Later that night I was going to get another shot from the other side of the frat house and I overheard him talking to some of his fraternity brothers. One of his brothers said “I saw you talking to that Raven girl that lives in Smith. I have class with her. Do you like her?” He replied “You know the rule: You can only fuck a nigger, never go to lunch with her”. I dropped my shot cup, ran across campus to my residence hall, and cried under my covers. It was devastating to say the least. I wasn’t even attracted to the guy or interested in him I was just at a party having fun like college students do but his commentary was so gut wrenching. This young man was president of his fraternity and was always labeled “one of the good ones”. He even introduced a speaker at a Diversity and Inclusion event. If you look at his instagram he has always been “liberal” and “speaks out against racism”…. I will allow you to draw your own conclusions on that…
When the “good ones” look just like the “bad ones” and the “liberal” ones that “speak out against racism” conduct themselves in the same ways that the outspoken and bigoted ones do.. How do you expect people of color to know the difference? If you don’t radicalize yourself and constantly do the work to dismantle systems that accept behavior like this why on earth would people of color think you truly aren’t racist when you make excuses for people’s actions just because they are nice, members of your family, or your friends?
3.) I moved to Northwest Arkansas in 2017 from Richmond Virginia. Now, Virginia is not without fault but I am originally from Newport News, Virginia where I saw a plethora of black people with wealth. I saw large diverse populations in positions of power and I felt very comfortable with who I was. Fast forward to NWA and I am hit with yet another truth bomb… That truth being : The burden of racism, even though enforced and acted upon by white americans, is on the shoulders of the minority to correct. I joined a mentoring organization where I would be given a young lady to mentor and act as a ‘big sister’ to when I moved to NWA. I was so excited because I LOVE my little sisters and I wanted an opportunity to gain yet another one through this program. It had taken MONTHS to match me with a young girl and I was starting to become a little restless and agitated with the process as there were other white women who joined at the same time as me and were given mentees before I was. I didn’t think much of it, prayed about it, and just kept hope alive. Well fast forward to 7 months later and I was ecstatic. The time had come for me to meet my match. The coordinator for the program let me know that it was her birthday so I was jumping for joy that we would get to meet that day. I rushed to buy balloons, a card, and a unicorn plush toy because her profile stated that she liked unicorns. At 5:54pm I walked into the library grinning from ear to ear with the balloons and presents ecstatic to meet her and her mother. I sat down in the chair with the coordinator and anxiously awaited for them to walk in. They walked in and the little girl probably thought I was crazy I was smiling so hard and filled with so much excitement, but she took one look at me and didn’t make eye contact again. Her and her mother sat down and then she whispered something to her mother. I figured she might have just been tired or shy but I was hopeful. The coordinator began to introduce us and try to fill out the paperwork needed for us to be a match. We didn’t even get 10 minutes into the meet and greet and then it came…. Her mother interjected while the coordinator was speaking and she said “I am so sorry, but she doesn’t feel comfortable with having a black mentor. She had a bad experience with a black girl in her class and she does not feel comfortable with a black mentor. She isn’t racist or anything she just would prefer to not have a black girl.” The coordinator’s mouth dropped and as she stuttered trying to find the words to say I interjected and told the little girl that it was okay. The coordinator told her that it was important for her to not generalize all people from one experience and that I would be a wonderful mentor for her but she didn’t care. I interjected again and told her not to worry about it. I thanked them for coming in and I wished them well and I told them that they should go enjoy her birthday. They got up and left and as soon as they were no longer in sight the coordinator burst into tears. She expressed her deep sorrow and tried to offer as much support as possible. She assured me that she had told them ahead of time that I was black and they said they were fine with it. She kept saying “I am so very sorry” I was in shock and didn’t cry until I got into my car. The one thing I kept thinking to myself while I was crying in the car was the statement of her mother “She isn’t racist….” Well……….
The notion that my blackness would disqualify me from being a worthwhile mentor to this young woman is part of the problem. The fact that her mother allowed her to function in this mindset is yet another part of the problem. It enforces the hate. It enforces the division. Her statement “assuring me” that she is not racist also enforces the notion that “racism” as a concept is bad but actions that are racist can be excused if the person isn’t proud of their racism.
I give you these three examples that have stuck with me as just the tip of the iceberg for me and people that look like me. Racism is relevant in today’s society but the two types that have been the most harmful to me are: the loud & proud racist and the white “liberal” closeted racist. Let me be clear before I move forward, THEY ARE BOTH DAMAGING AND THEY BOTH CONTRIBUTE TO WHITE SUPREMACY.
The “loud and proud” racist is the one you see who totes a confederate flag, shouts the word “nigger” without fear of reprimand, and speaks openly about harming black and brown people.
The “white liberal closeted racist” is the one who votes blue, posted a black box on Instagram in the wake of George Floyd, is against police brutality, and talks about how “bad” racism is and how against it they are. All of those things sound great right? The problem lies in the fact that they are preformative. Those are the people who hear someone say the “N word”, they are outraged but they “know the person isn’t racist so they aren’t going to cause real waves in their relationship with them”. They are the ones who complain about all of the changes in culture that are forcing things to be more politically correct and get rid of harmful imagery that has depictions of Mammies, black face, and other harmful imagery. They are the ones that won’t argue with their family about things concerning race because their family “accepts everyone for who they are” even though sometimes their words and actions are harmful to the people of color in their spaces.
It is FUCKING EXHAUSTING as a black person to navigate this. The “good ones” are closeted racist. The “loud & proud” ones are racist. The ones that are truly aware and fight against racism are the “radicals” of their family. They are “RADICAL” for wanting people to stop harming black people and people of color with their actions. What a fucking “RADICAL” idea.
It is exhausting to have to deal with this and know that you can’t react. You can’t get upset because it will be met with defensiveness. “But you know I am not racist”. “I don’t have privilege I worked hard for what I have”. “You don’t understand they are from a different time.” I am EXHAUSTED.
The burden is put on me and so many other people of color to then teach people how they have harmed us. To teach them why what they did was harmful and then deal with their lack of acceptance and accountability.
I am here to tell you, being a “nice” person is not enough.
Voting democrat is not enough.
Saying racism is bad is not enough.
Trying to “keep the peace” with people who have said racial slurs or perpetuated racism towards people of color in hopes of not rocking the boat is NOT ENOUGH.
You are living comfortably in your privilege of not having to deal with racism and it is simply not enough.
I wake up every day and I can’t escape the fact that I am black and you can go an entire day without thinking of ways to enhance the experience of people of color.
It is surely out of sight and out of mind, and sadly for us we can’t escape.
So if you TRULY want to be an ally. If you TRULY want to make a difference. If you TRULY want to change the way things are going use this method: STOP. LISTEN. LEARN. ACT. REPEAT.
If you think that people of color are constantly talking about race, imagine all of the things that people are doing to them to remind them of their race.
I am the black girl in the white world.
I am the elephant in the room whose voice falls on deaf ears.
Although these things are true, I am a beautiful, successful, intelligent, caring, and deserving woman and my sense of worth is not built upon the need for acceptance from people who can’t handle my light.
I hope that if you have ever experienced things like this you understand that you are not alone.
I hope that if you have ever been apart of the problem that you humble yourself enough to hear the pain and decide to grow and become apart of the solution.
We can do it sis, just trust the journey.