Wednesday, June 3, 2020

Protesting, Riots, and White Privilege

I posted this on FB last week...




There have been a lot of discussions going on at my house on racism and white privilege in the last few weeks. I have a 16-year-old Haitian daughter that is really trying to find her voice and understand why the color of her skin matters and why some people judge her differently because of it. I have a 13-year-old Haitian daughter that wishes more than anything to have blonde straight hair and blue eyes just like her white friends, she cannot see how extremely beautiful she is. I have a Haitian husband that, when we first started dating, told me I was doing a disservice to my girls if I did not teach them how to be black in a white world. My daughters, as long as they are with me, have the use of my white privilege card, they walk into the store and are seen with the white lady, so they are not a threat. When my daughter walks into the store without me she notices that she gets watched, she makes a point to make eye contact and smile, so they know that all of her 4”11’ self is not a threat. She is afraid that if she were to get pulled over, she would not only have to worry about getting a ticket but possibly being seen as a threat. She knows that she needs to have all of her documents at the ready and her hands on the steering wheel before the police officer approaches her car. These are a few of the things that we have been discussing. As much as I would love to say, “We live in Bellingham, that would not happen to you here” that is not the lesson she needs to know, what if she is traveling somewhere else. White privilege is having the ability to opt out of noticing the suffering and injustice of an entire race and pretend everything is ok.

If you know me you would know that I like to walk fast, all the time. When I first started dating Marco we were walking inside a big shopping mall and he couldn’t understand why I was walking so fast and I was getting frustrated that he was walking so slow, when I told him I am a fast walker he told me that “As a black man if I am walking fast I am guilty of something”. After a long discussion I learned something new, I learned that there is a difference between my reality and his and that I need to be able to see his life from his perspective and his life experience. We have had many discussions since then and I am still learning.

Sitting outside in our front yard this afternoon everyone that walked past our house waved and said Hi, they were friendly, and I believe they were sending the message that we see you and we are glad you are our neighbor. Anyone that takes the time to get to know my girls, or my husband sees what wonderful, non-threatening, people they are, and I am lucky to have them in my life.  As my daughter said last night, “I just don’t get why the color of my skin makes people think less of me.” I didn’t have an answer for her, but I hope that she will be able to live and raise her family in a different world, one that doesn’t question her character, her kindness, her compassion, her worthiness, by the color of her skin. When we know better, we do better, if you do not know then now is a good time to start. Have that difficult conversation, ask questions, get out of your comfort zone. Face the fear and take action anyway.