In the past few weeks, I have been thinking a lot about racism. Am I a racist because I haven’t done anything specific to combat racism? Am I just “not a racist” because I don’t actively discriminate in my daily life? Or am I an active “anti-racist”, taking action against injustice? Like everyone, I was shocked and repelled by the video of George Floyd being killed by a police officer in Minneapolis. As I watched the protests grow around the country, I realized that no longer would it be sufficient just to be appalled by police violence against blacks. Was I a racist because I haven’t done anything to fight against these injustices?
The common definition of racism is a belief that race is the primary determinant of human traits and capacities and that racial differences produce an inherent superiority of a particular race. Okay, I don’t believe that. But Ibram Kendi defines the word racist as: “One who is supporting a racist policy through their actions or inaction or expressing a racist idea.” It was that “or inaction” part that really got me thinking. I am too old to march, too scared about catching Covid-19 to be in a crowd, too isolated in my white community to make much of a difference. What policies am I supporting through my inaction? Could I be an “anti-racist” in Kendi’s terms, which implies taking action, doing something, not just staying comfortably in my own white bubble?
My first thought was to reach out to the few black neighbors in my community and tell them I cared about them and realized that this was a very difficult time for them and their families. But that seemed incredibly patronizing, and I struggled with whether I should reach out or just stay silent. After some thought, I did write some notes and at least one of my neighbors responded with appreciation that I had made an effort. Still, it seemed too little too late.
As I searched for things to do or new ways to think, I found an article called “75 Things White People Can Do for Racial Justice.” There were some very practical ideas that even I, an older white woman, could do in my daily life. I could certainly check out the policies of my local police department about body-cameras or de-escalation training, and let the department know if they are doing the right thing or could improve. I could donate to any number of organizations that have been fighting this fight for years, like the Southern Poverty Law Center. I could search for black-owned businesses on websites like Webuyblack.com or this list of businesses and consciously seek out their products instead of automatically using Amazon when I want to make a purchase online. I could also follow the instructions of this website America & Moore, for a 21 day challenge to Engage, Act and Reflect.
But the hardest thing has been to speak up when an acquaintance or friend says something that blames the victim or distorts the protests. I have noticed that a lot of my white friends only want to talk about the looting and the relatively small amount of violence by protestors. Should I just let them focus on that or is there a way I can redirect the conversation to the larger issues of poverty or inequality? How can I do that without sounding pompous or making them so mad they can’t even hear what I say? There is a very strong impulse to forget about all of this now that the protests have stopped. To give up and go back to the way things were. To think that no one person, particularly this old woman, can really do anything to change 400 years of redlining, bias in hiring and promoting blacks, built-in prejudices about black behavior.
I have four young grandchildren. I think about their future and what kind of world I want for them. And then I think about how they will look at me and ask if I did all I could. Right now, the answer is that I am not doing all I can. Will I just go on being “not racist” but too timid or lazy to actually be “anti-racist”? Only I can answer that, but the faces of those kids keep coming back to me. What have you done, grandma? How did you try to change things?