It's almost Thanksgiving, and I want to focus on giving thanks for my health and safety, my family, my friends, my opportunities, and all the positive change that is taking place in the world. In order to do that, I really need to get some things off my chest.
Since last night I have had a hard time thinking about much else besides what is happening in Ferguson and all over the country. I don't know why I am stunned each time these decisions come down, but I am. It saddens me so much not only to see young black men being killed without consequence, but also the level of racism and ignorance that fill my news feed and the internet at large. It is hard to even say anything about this because I know I will probably be judged and criticized as well. But it's also getting hard NOT to say anything. This affects me. It affects all of us, and if you are not sure why, please take time to ask someone and reflect on the answer.
Most of us have no idea what happened during the events that led up to Michael Brown's death, or anyone else's death. We will never know the true sequence of events or motivations behind it. Yet somehow so many people believe with such conviction that this incident had NOTHING TO DO WITH RACE. Every time I read that, it kills me a little. How can you be so sure? Since we don't know the truth, then why do I (and many others) suspect it DOES have to do with race? Because this is not an isolated incident; it is one sad piece of a much bigger picture. The patterns of who gets stopped by the police, who gets arrested, who gets sentenced and for how long, all point to racial bias in law enforcement and the justice system. It does not stop there. Me, you, and everyone we know-- we all have racial biases because we are born into a world full of them. We have to actively learn to overcome them, and we cannot do that until we admit they are there. It stuns me that we still live in a country where it seems the majority of people do not believe racism and discrimination exist. This is a big, big problem.
Many people say that race is just made up, so there is no point in talking about it. This is half true. Race is a social construct. There are no definitive lines to distinguish black from white, from Asian, from Latino. We as a society have made up these categories, that much is irrefutable. But these categories do matter because we have made them matter. These categories have been used to enslave people, to determine social worth, to decide who can figuratively and literally belong. Communities have formed around these categories, identities have been shaped by them. These categories influence the way we perceive ourselves and how we are perceived by others. It affects whose stories we hear, whose stories we believe, and who we are taught are the heroes and the villains. To verify this, we only need to look at the textbooks we were taught from in K-12. Where are the people of color, the women, the gays, lesbians, and trans people? Largely invisible.
When I was growing up, I wished my race was invisible. I felt that the "me" people saw did not reflect who I was inside. I felt like people saw me as Asian first, and myself second. I could not put words to it then, but looking back, what I felt was shame. I remember kids making fun of my small eyes. I didn't say anything, because I didn't want to admit it was true. I remember a friend telling me that she wished she was Asian instead of white because it would be more interesting. I wanted to tell her she had no idea how lucky she was to have the privilege of being white, of not having her race seen first. But I was only 12 then, and didn't know how to say that. I remember in college having a professor ask me if I spoke English. I turned red, and just nodded, because I was stunned and embarrassed. I'm tired of having no words. I'm tired of people playing the "race card"-card whenever someone wants to talk about injustice or discrimination. Sometimes people want to, NEED to, talk about it, because it hurts. It sucks. It's the truth.
The more we make it unsafe and unacceptable to talk about racism, or any other kind of discrimination, the more people will use other means to SHOW how they feel about it. So while I don't condone violence, I don't think the answer right now is for everyone to shut up and sit down either. I am by and large a rule follower. I feel uncomfortable talking too loud. I don't speed, or steal, or jaywalk. I would never talk back to a police officer. But when I think about why that is, the answer is not as clear as "because my mama taught me right". I don't defy authority because authority has never beat me down. I respect the law because it has served me well. But when a large population of people tell me they are afraid of the police, that they do not feel served by the justice system, that they fear the government that is meant to serve ALL of the people, it troubles me, and I listen. I realize that the fact that I do not feel the same means I am privileged. I am the type of person the law protects. If I came in contact with the police, they would not view me as suspicious. I can trust that a jury would find me sympathetic. I am damn lucky I can say those things. It's not that I don't deserve it, but rather that everybody else does too.
Some years ago, my father who has a mental illness was involved in a police altercation. I was not there, and have not heard in detail what happened. But what I do know is that in the process of trying to restrain him, they threw him down and broke his hip. He went to the hospital psych ward, where the injury was undiscovered for days, at which point a lot of damage had already set in. He can't walk anymore. He doesn't go outside. He will never be able to live without around-the-clock nursing care. It is an absolute tragedy and it makes me endlessly sad to think about. Honestly, I don't know the truth of this situation any more than I know about Michael Brown's, but what I do know is the feeling of powerlessness. Someone hurt my family, and there was absolutely no consequence, no explanation, no recourse. Maybe it was justified, maybe it wasn't, I'll never know. It's been years, but I still feel that grief and anguish. I don't even have the bandwidth to imagine how I would feel if the consequences had been lethal. And until that pain reaches your home, your family, your community, I don't think you can judge what an appropriate amount of rage might be. I don't think you can preach about letting it go. I don't think it's your place to shut the grieving voices down.
That is all I can say right now. I am going to stop reading articles and analysis and especially comments about this for a while so I can enjoy my time with my family. But in the back of my mind, I will be holding a space for those who won't be able to do that this year.
Wishing you peace and love this Thanksgiving.
Since last night I have had a hard time thinking about much else besides what is happening in Ferguson and all over the country. I don't know why I am stunned each time these decisions come down, but I am. It saddens me so much not only to see young black men being killed without consequence, but also the level of racism and ignorance that fill my news feed and the internet at large. It is hard to even say anything about this because I know I will probably be judged and criticized as well. But it's also getting hard NOT to say anything. This affects me. It affects all of us, and if you are not sure why, please take time to ask someone and reflect on the answer.
Most of us have no idea what happened during the events that led up to Michael Brown's death, or anyone else's death. We will never know the true sequence of events or motivations behind it. Yet somehow so many people believe with such conviction that this incident had NOTHING TO DO WITH RACE. Every time I read that, it kills me a little. How can you be so sure? Since we don't know the truth, then why do I (and many others) suspect it DOES have to do with race? Because this is not an isolated incident; it is one sad piece of a much bigger picture. The patterns of who gets stopped by the police, who gets arrested, who gets sentenced and for how long, all point to racial bias in law enforcement and the justice system. It does not stop there. Me, you, and everyone we know-- we all have racial biases because we are born into a world full of them. We have to actively learn to overcome them, and we cannot do that until we admit they are there. It stuns me that we still live in a country where it seems the majority of people do not believe racism and discrimination exist. This is a big, big problem.
Many people say that race is just made up, so there is no point in talking about it. This is half true. Race is a social construct. There are no definitive lines to distinguish black from white, from Asian, from Latino. We as a society have made up these categories, that much is irrefutable. But these categories do matter because we have made them matter. These categories have been used to enslave people, to determine social worth, to decide who can figuratively and literally belong. Communities have formed around these categories, identities have been shaped by them. These categories influence the way we perceive ourselves and how we are perceived by others. It affects whose stories we hear, whose stories we believe, and who we are taught are the heroes and the villains. To verify this, we only need to look at the textbooks we were taught from in K-12. Where are the people of color, the women, the gays, lesbians, and trans people? Largely invisible.
When I was growing up, I wished my race was invisible. I felt that the "me" people saw did not reflect who I was inside. I felt like people saw me as Asian first, and myself second. I could not put words to it then, but looking back, what I felt was shame. I remember kids making fun of my small eyes. I didn't say anything, because I didn't want to admit it was true. I remember a friend telling me that she wished she was Asian instead of white because it would be more interesting. I wanted to tell her she had no idea how lucky she was to have the privilege of being white, of not having her race seen first. But I was only 12 then, and didn't know how to say that. I remember in college having a professor ask me if I spoke English. I turned red, and just nodded, because I was stunned and embarrassed. I'm tired of having no words. I'm tired of people playing the "race card"-card whenever someone wants to talk about injustice or discrimination. Sometimes people want to, NEED to, talk about it, because it hurts. It sucks. It's the truth.
The more we make it unsafe and unacceptable to talk about racism, or any other kind of discrimination, the more people will use other means to SHOW how they feel about it. So while I don't condone violence, I don't think the answer right now is for everyone to shut up and sit down either. I am by and large a rule follower. I feel uncomfortable talking too loud. I don't speed, or steal, or jaywalk. I would never talk back to a police officer. But when I think about why that is, the answer is not as clear as "because my mama taught me right". I don't defy authority because authority has never beat me down. I respect the law because it has served me well. But when a large population of people tell me they are afraid of the police, that they do not feel served by the justice system, that they fear the government that is meant to serve ALL of the people, it troubles me, and I listen. I realize that the fact that I do not feel the same means I am privileged. I am the type of person the law protects. If I came in contact with the police, they would not view me as suspicious. I can trust that a jury would find me sympathetic. I am damn lucky I can say those things. It's not that I don't deserve it, but rather that everybody else does too.
Some years ago, my father who has a mental illness was involved in a police altercation. I was not there, and have not heard in detail what happened. But what I do know is that in the process of trying to restrain him, they threw him down and broke his hip. He went to the hospital psych ward, where the injury was undiscovered for days, at which point a lot of damage had already set in. He can't walk anymore. He doesn't go outside. He will never be able to live without around-the-clock nursing care. It is an absolute tragedy and it makes me endlessly sad to think about. Honestly, I don't know the truth of this situation any more than I know about Michael Brown's, but what I do know is the feeling of powerlessness. Someone hurt my family, and there was absolutely no consequence, no explanation, no recourse. Maybe it was justified, maybe it wasn't, I'll never know. It's been years, but I still feel that grief and anguish. I don't even have the bandwidth to imagine how I would feel if the consequences had been lethal. And until that pain reaches your home, your family, your community, I don't think you can judge what an appropriate amount of rage might be. I don't think you can preach about letting it go. I don't think it's your place to shut the grieving voices down.
That is all I can say right now. I am going to stop reading articles and analysis and especially comments about this for a while so I can enjoy my time with my family. But in the back of my mind, I will be holding a space for those who won't be able to do that this year.
Wishing you peace and love this Thanksgiving.
agh my comments keep getting lost.
ReplyDeleteThanks for this thoughtful and articulate description of things I've been having trouble putting words too.