Preface:
I started writing this blog post in June 2020, shortly after George Floyd lost his battle to racial injustices. The original title of this post was “One Month Ago…” ; the intention was to list all the things I had learned and un-learned over a month, and hold myself accountable to a new journey of anti-racist work. That month was filled with sad, empowering, maddening, and transformational moments for myself and for the world, and I wanted to hold some space for some of it.
The one month mark passed and I still didn’t feel like the blog post was good enough or complete so I kept changing the title to “Two months ago…”, “Three months ago…”, until I eventually just wrote the date.
I want to start by acknowledging that this is the epitome of white privilege. I’ve had the luxury of parking this topic in a drawer (or in my drafts) for months now, while I didn’t feel comfortable enough to share it with the rest of the world….
So today, before we head towards the end of February and the end of Black History Month… I’m sharing an imperfect and incomplete piece of work — which represents the beginning of a lot more work for me. It doesn’t need to be perfect. It doesn’t need to be complete — but as long as there’s something there, I think it’s a step in the right direction.
May 25, 2020
On May 25, 2020, George Floyd was murdered. Since this tragic and needless event, there’s been quite the public uproar — one I’ve never experienced before. The global response to #BlackLivesMatter is the strongest protest I’ve witnessed, and I’m here to join my voice to the movement.
In these last few months, I’ve learned so much. More importantly, I’ve learned that there is a lot I must un-learn and re-learn. So, I’m on this journey and this is my first stop for accountability :
Hi, I’m Vickie. I am white. I am privileged. I am a woman. And I never thought or considered myself a racist. I never thought of myself as complicit to racism, in fact, I considered myself fairly educated on the topic. Boy, was I wrong…
This is my first blog post, ever — and I figure now is a good time to start one. Why am I writing this? As I mentioned, I’m privileged — so I’ve had access to higher education, with no barriers, and I’ve gained a literacy level that many can’t reach. I’m not saying this to show off; I’m saying this to show up. I want to acknowledge it : this access to education is a privilege not available to everyone. I am able to do my own research, understand volumes of information, fact-check and analyze it, and therefore I feel I should share my learnings since not many have the same abilities or opportunities. I’m not writing a blog on this topic to say ‘hey! look at me, I did my homework!’…I’m rather doing this is to hold myself accountable. I have a desire to learn, to share, and to hold space for discussion. If I’m wrong, I want to be corrected. If I don’t know, I want to learn. And if I thought I knew, I’m ready to be proven wrong. Having white skin means I default in the category of “part of the problem”; Being part of the solution is swimming against the current — it may be uncomfortable. But great things don’t come from comfort zones.
What I’ve learned since May 25, 2020 (Part One)
- Acknowledging my white privilege isn’t enough.
I don’t know who was the first to say it, but (paraphrasing) white privilege is the result of white supremacy and this problem can only be solved by those who created it: White People.
I’ve been aware of white privilege and how I can have disproportionate advantages because of my white skin, but I can’t say I’ve ever done anything about it. Have you ever noticed how often white privilege and white supremacy shows up in our daily lives?
A few examples:
- Public holidays are determined based on the Christian calendar;
- Police brutality and the disproportionate number of Black victims;
- Ever wondered why the majority of visitors at campsites and hiking trails are White? Well… Did you know National and provincial parks in Canada only exist today because of colonial genocide? (this is a whole other blog post in itself…);
- Racial disparities in the justice system — In Canada, Black and Indigenous people are significantly overrepresented in correctional institutions;
2. Being an ally.
My entire family is from a rural town in Atlantic Canada, but I grew up in the National Capital. It’s a dichotomy to me — it allowed me to see different realities between rural and urban Canada. Particularly with respect to cultural and ethnic backgrounds and the levels of acceptance of these different backgrounds within a given community. Growing up in an urban centre, I thought I was exposed to enough diversity that I could understand the disparities, the inequalities, I’ve always been interested in other cultures so I’ve been curious and I have learned a lot; I’ve called out racist comments made by friends/co-workers/family members; I’ve tried to teach those same friends/co-workers/family members on different cultural aspects that they may not have understood; and I’ve generally felt that I was doing a good job as an ally.
What I learned recently is that I haven’t been such a good ally. And I even learned a new word along the way.
“Gaslighting” is defined as psychological manipulation or abuse that leads the victim into doubting their own judgement or sense of reality. In a racial context, gaslighting can minimize the lived experiences of a marginalized group simply because the oppressing group doesn’t agree or see it. An easy example: “racism doesn’t exist in Canada”. Racism definitely does exist in Canada, and no White Folk is in any place to state that it doesn’t.
I admit I’ve said those words at one point in my life, too.
Part of being a good ally is to shut up and listen. If Black People say it’s racism : it’s racism. And it’s about damn time we sit down, learn it, and fix it.
I’ve gaslighted before (without knowing the psychological and emotional effects of it) and I’m learning that it shows up in different ways, without necessarily realizing it. For example: I studied literature in university, and we learned about clichés as a kind of literary device. A cliché or a stereotype are used as a ‘shortcut’, if you will, to describe characters of a story. Think of movies with Black servants, rich White men, or the alcoholic Irishman. Characters like these in movies or novels wouldn’t necessarily be seen as racist per se, or at least I never thought of it that way myself. But I realize that these stereotypes definitely perpetuate the problem, and they don’t help in giving a positive perception of the marginalized groups.
That said, I want to commit to questioning the different stereotypes I know about or observe, and how these contribute to my racial biases. What stereotypes can you think of for yourself?