The Breaking Point

I woke up this morning to images of flames engulfing the city where I used to live.  To videos of cops tear gassing innocent people in the streets.  To a story of police arresting a CNN correspondent while the men who murdered George Floyd continued to run free.  I wanted to believe that I was still sleeping and would soon wake up from this terrifying nightmare.  I am riding a rollercoaster of grief, anger, disbelief, disgust, shame and sadness this week, so forgive me for my rambling and grammatical errors.  I think this is a breaking point.  For myself.  For Minnesota.  For our country.  

I was working on a post in honor of Black History Month in February, but I never published it.  I couldn't get it right or really say what I wanted to say, and it ended up sounding like a call to reflect on racism for that month only and then resort back to our old ways, which was the direct opposite of the point I was trying to make.  I still don't think I'm getting this right, but I need to say and do something, even if it's not perfect.  I know that these thoughts and discoveries will continue to evolve as I explore my relationship with race and my reactions to the country's events.  This is in no way an attempt to lecture other people on what they should do, because I don't have the answers.  This is simply a reflection of what has been on my mind lately and how I personally want to be better.

George Floyd was murdered.  Ahmaud Arbery was murdered.  Breonna Taylor was murdered.  Trayvon and Jamar and Tamir and Michael and Philandro and Corey were murdered.  There is no other way to describe this.  It's a horrible reality that has existed in our country since its origins but is now being publicized and shared on a viral level, and the country is in outrage.  During an international pandemic, when everyone is already fearful for their lives, one group of people is forced to experience more fear, more terror, more oppression.  Black people in America are continuously being treated like their lives are disposable. 

A few years ago when I was pregnant with Ady, I met another mother-to-be while in an airport on a layover, and we chatted for a few minutes about our shared experiences.  We were due around the same time, both having girls.  The other mother made a comment about how thankful she is to be having a girl, and I immediately knew what she meant.  She was black, and to her, the thought of raising a black boy in this world was terrifying.  This was right after yet another fatal shooting of a young, unarmed black boy by a police officer.  At that moment I was blatantly aware of how different our narratives really were.  I, too, was looking forward to having a girl.  I, too, like every mother, have a million fears about raising children.  But her fears were thousands of times more intense than mine.  Statistically, if I were having a boy, it is unlikely that he would end up incarcerated or murdered.  But if she were having a boy, those were very real possibilities.  I was in a daze that afternoon as I went back to my gate and cried into my latte.  Black people are being murdered and they are someone's babies.

I've been thinking about racism a lot in the past few years, not just the blatantly obvious and violent racial acts, but the everyday racism and systemic practices that continue to oppress people.  Sometimes I think we've only made about 1% progress since the Reconstruction Era, and it is astounding and sickening on every level.  Racism is a wide spectrum of behaviors and beliefs, many of which are subconscious, that pervades all aspects of our society, from education, housing, employment, healthcare and incarceration, to the sports and entertainment industries.  Some is overt and obvious, but most racism is subtle.  And it's the subtle acts of racism from well-meaning people that prevents progress as a society.  We're at a juncture in which being "not racist" is not enough.  (And as I write this, I think to myself, it was never enough, but we were all too ignorant to realize it until we watched a man murdered on social media and until these conversations became mainstream.)  Being a silent witness is harmful.  Thinking that you are somehow exempt because you're a good person is causing more harm than good.  Stating that you treat everyone equally is ignoring the reality of many humans.  We (especially white people and those historically in power) must be "anti-racist," to use our privilege and our voice to fix our world.  We must raise our children to be better than us and stop the cycle of subtle racism that is passed down through generations.

So what can we do as parents (or teachers, or aunts and uncles, or people who influence children) to create a better and more knowledgeable generation of conscientious humans?

1. Talk, and listen.  Welcome conversation.  Answer questions honestly.  

Where does racism come from?  It's not innate.  It's not human nature to believe that some individuals are superior to other individuals or that morality is associated with skin color.  I'm not suggesting that people don't innately notice skin color or that kids are "colorblind."  I think that line of thinking contributes to more denial and ignorance of racial issues.  Pretending to not notice a person's skin color means ignoring his or her identity, history, and existence.  Kids are curious about characteristics.  My three-year-old has a million questions about people's hairstyles, body types, and clothing preferences.  She points out similarities and differences between her friends at school, her dolls, and the characters she sees on TV.  Kids are exploring their own identity and how they are unique but also similar to others, and their racial identity is an aspect of this.  Kids notice skin color, but what kids don't do is assign any kind of judgment or meaning to the color of someone's skin.  They learn judgment through observation of adults' behaviors and attitudes.  I believe that most or all white parents pass down an element of stereotyping and prejudice to their children through subconscious actions.  

We need to create an atmosphere in which kids can ask open questions and make observations.  Talk about things you wonder about or question in society, things that bother you, or things that make you sad.  The world is beautiful but far from perfect, and it's okay for kids to know that.  We should talk about these hard things all the time, not just in times of crisis.  And acknowledge when you don't have the answers to the questions they ask, because we're all navigating this territory together.

2.  Examine your own intrinsic biases.  Ask not, "Am I racist?"  But instead, "How do my actions contribute to structural and systemic racism?"  

Most of us think, "There's no way I could be racist.  I'm a good person.  I have black friends.  I voted for Obama!"  But if we think these things, and somehow feel exempt from the conversation, then we are the problem.  We are assuming we aren't at fault and therefore we aren't takings steps to examine and modify our behavior.  This step is really hard because it means looking very closely at stereotypes and actions.  It means accepting that even good people do bad things.  It means feeling really uncomfortable and shameful.  This is a constant journey of self-assessment and dedication to improvement.  

Kids pick up on our nonverbal communication, our mannerisms, and our responses to different situations.  This is how they make sense of the world, and how they form opinions and judgments of things around them.  I am trying to examine my own intrinsic biases to prevent passing down any racist tendencies that I may have inherited.  Does the tone of my voice change when talking to a person of color?  Do I make assumptions about people's cultural practices or preferences based on their race?  Does my body language change when I encounter someone who doesn't look like me?  Do I speed up, slow down, hold my purse closer to my body, remove my headphones, breathe faster, or elevate my shoulders when I walk past a black man on the street?  When I see a car or hear a style of music, do I make assumptions about the person driving that vehicle or listening to that song?  The answers to these questions say more about me than they do about race.  In order to fix my behavior, I first have to notice it.

I have said a lot of things that I regret.  I have made assumptions about people because of their cultural backgrounds.  I am guilty of cultural appropriation because I was too ignorant to realize that my actions were harmful.  I am guilty of paternalism.  I am guilty of denial.  I am guilty of being silent in the midst of hurtful comments because I was afraid to offend someone.  I am guilty of stereotyping.  I am on a journey to be better and to learn from my mistakes.

3.  Normalize diversity.

To eliminate stereotypes and create a sense of shared humanity, kids need exposure to the extremely wide range of human beauty and uniqueness in the world.  Kids will notice differences, but they will also notice similarities.  My kids are of the minority race at their school.  I know that they will observe and comment on this someday, but right now my three-year-old notices when she and her best friends wear matching dresses or when they like the same Disney character.  Hair color, eye color, skin color, sock color, these are all observations that kids make with no judgment attached.

Do our kids see people of color in leadership roles?  Do they hear different accents when listening to people for whom English is a second (or third or fourth) language?  Do they have friends who celebrate different holidays?  Do they have friends with a single parent, or two moms, or two dads, or foster parents?  Do they know that some of their friends have grandpas or aunties that bring them to school because Mom works the night shift and Dad doesn't have a car?  Do they have friends who receive therapy services at school or use a wheelchair for mobility?  Do our kids read books and watch movies that portray racial and cultural diversity?  When all of these differences are represented in their normal life, kids learn that differences are beautiful and no one is superior to another.

Diversity also needs to start with us.  We should question why our social groups and professional organizations lack diversity, and what steps we need to take to remedy that.  What barriers exist for people of color to pursue a degree in my field?  Why are so many runners and triathletes white?  I'm not advocating for seeking out people to "diversify" your friend group, but if your friend group looks a lot like you, then it may be time to examine what actions or behaviors limit inclusion of other people.  When I'm with my fellow physical therapy friends, we are very guilty of talking incessantly about work, which can really isolate other members of our friend group who don't work in healthcare.  When I'm with my mom friends we can get really wrapped up in discussing nap schedules and breastfeeding and teething remedies, excluding our non-mom friends and making them feel inconsequential.  I'm aware of these faults of mine and I'm working to be better, and I also need to ask myself if I am inadvertently prohibiting other grounds of people from feeling welcome in my friend groups.  

4.  Talk about privilege.

According to research studies, most black parents talk to their kids about race and ethnicity.  Very few white parents talk to their kids about race and ethnicity.  Herein lies the problem.  I was raised in a very kind, accepting, conscientious family that values equality and inclusiveness, with parents who taught us to stand up for people in trouble, who exhibited principles of feminism and instilled in us a set of ethical values, but I don't think white privilege was ever a topic of conversation for us.  I didn't have a good understanding of this until well into my adulthood, and it's something I still have to constantly educate myself about and try to further understand.  It took me a long time to learn that my success in life is more the result of my circumstances, my opportunities, and the resources that generations of my family had access to than my own hard work or character traits.  And it has taken me even longer to understand all of the things I can get away with, without fear of persecution, that many other people cannot.  I can wear a hooded sweatshirt without fear of getting shot.  I can get pulled over by a police officer without fear of getting killed.  I can birdwatch in a park without someone calling the police.  I want to have these conversations with my children.  I want them to know that they can do things safely that other people cannot.  I want them to appreciate that fact and to use that knowledge to help and advocate for others.

5.  Involve kids in political activism.

Okay, of course I'm not suggesting to bring your baby to a violent protest.  Please use caution.  But allow political discourse and involvement to be a part of family life.  I wore Ady in a sling during the March on Washington when she was 10 weeks old.  She later accompanied me to vote in a local election (although she thought I said "boat" instead of "vote" and was largely disappointed), and joined me to listen to a public forum during the city council election.  We talk about politics at the dinner table.  We read books about leaders and activists.  When my girls are older I will encourage them to write letters, to research issues that they care about, and to make their voices heard.  I want this to be normal for them so they can feel confident and prepared to stand up for their beliefs throughout their lives.  White people and those who have historically been in power throughout American history have an obligation to use their voice to effect change.

All of this self-reflection and commitment to doing better has admittedly raised more questions for me than answers, but I think it's a start.  I may look back on this post in a couple years and think that I was shallow and misinformed and lacking insight, but maybe that will mean progress.  It will never be good enough, because never in my lifetime can I do enough to bring George back, but I can raise my kids to be more aware and conscientious and to do great things for this world. 

I read something recently that being antiracist means a conscious decision to make frequent and consistent choices every day, with ongoing self-reflection as we move through life.  Being antiracist isn't about who you are but what you do.  That's what I strive for, for myself and my family.  I am saddened and ashamed that it took a massive protest during a pandemic to make all of us get to this point, but here we are.

I can't help but wonder, Is this rock bottom for our country?  And if so, then I guess it can only get better.