I haven’t written for a few weeks. At first it was because I was a little busier – some consulting work had come my way, I was laying some groundwork for future projects, and continuing to teach a few classes via Zoom. Then, just as I was starting to contemplate a new post, the George Floyd video hit and the world felt so heavy. My words seemed exceptionally inadequate, woefully inexpressive of all the emotions that were roiling within me.
I was already upset about Ahmaud Arbery and Breonna Taylor when I saw the story of a white woman calling 911 and blatantly lying because a black man politely asked her to leash her dog. That was followed almost immediately by the horrific footage of a white policeman with his knee on the neck of a restrained black man. On camera. Acting as if it was normal. For nine minutes.
But wait…I was already upset about Stephon Clark, Terrance Crutcher, Alton Sterling, Philando Castile, Sandra Bland, Freddie Gray, Tamir Rice, Michael Brown, Eric Garner, Trayvon Martin…
But wait…I was already upset because my black friends have to teach their children – especially their boys – abundantly cautious ways of maneuvering in our society, such as keeping their hands visible at all times in interactions with police…such as holding back anger at racist treatment in order to make sure situations don’t escalate…such as not wearing hoodies…
But wait…I was already upset because the policies, laws, and institutions in our country have been established based on the ideology of white superiority….
And if I am this angry and upset about all of this, from my privileged vantage point, then how much more magnified must it be for those for whom none of this is just a news story, but instead is a daily reality? When every public space is assumed to be for white people? When one is never assumed innocent? When fear is someone’s first reaction, or at least that’s the story they tell to try and excuse inexcusable behavior?
As the protests started to build across the nation and then the world, and over and over again policemen were caught brutalizing human beings, I was struck by how vastly different these protesters were treated in contrast to those – mostly white and often armed – who had protested the pandemic shut-downs just a few weeks earlier. Comparing the footage, the racism is nauseatingly blatant. The Black Lives Matter protests had law enforcement in riot gear, police SUVs driving into crowds, tear gas and pepper spray and rubber bullets being aimed indiscriminately at people, police yanking people from their vehicles and beating them with their batons. The footage from the re-open protests showed men, without masks but with guns, screaming directly into the faces of the police, who stoically stood there without responding – no tear gas, no rubber bullets, no batons.
Violence perpetrated on black bodies with impunity – this has been the reality in our country for over 400 years. And it’s only one way the underlying doctrine of white supremacy is played out on a daily basis. Understanding how this ideology – that white is somehow better, more deserving, more valuable – permeates our institutions, our laws, and our attitudes is vital to making lasting change, to dismantling the structural racism that has been built into the very fabric of our everyday lives.
I have been trying to figure out how to appropriately express how I feel about all this without seeming as if I was trying to speak for black people when it is their perspectives, their stories, their experiences that we should be listening to in this fight. But I also know that “white silence” is harmful. So, I’ve been reflecting and reading, looking at society as a whole and at my corner of the arts world, re-examining my privilege and my biases. From there, I began to come up with a list of tangible actions I could perform in pursuit of a more equal and just society.
I can share my anger and grief at the state of the world, adding my voice to the chorus of those clamoring for change.
I can reaffirm that I am an ally.
I can continue to call out racism when I see it.
I can continue to educate myself in ways to be anti-racist, and support organizations doing that work.
I can amplify black voices and achievements.
I hope you will consider making your own list, and join the fight.
Penny Askew 