True Allies, True Colours

I'm writing this because after I penned a piece in August called I Don't Want A Colourblind World, I received a message asking me if I might elaborate on the idea of Caucasian people as “allies” of people of colour. The person who wrote had looked up Peggy McIntosh (author of White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Suitcase), and Jane Elliott (creator of the Blue Eyed Brown Eyed Experiment) and felt overwhelmed by the prospect of having to conceptualize equally brilliant things in order to be seen as a "legitimate" ally. I was struck by that – by that feeling of “Nothing I can say or do will ever be quite the right thing... will ever be enough.” I thought to myself that if that sense of uncertainty and helplessness could be multiplied by 1000, that person might understand for a fleeting moment what living a life in dark skin can feel like. I then snapped out of my self-centered inclination to make this genuine inquiry about my self-centered inclinations, as opposed to endeavouring to reply in a way that could hold something. “Be kind” and “Be fair” would be reductive responses, more about letting myself off the hook from answering than anything else. As I thought about it more, I decided to try to articulate what being a Caucasian ally to people of colour might mean to me personally. I do not purport to speak for even one other black person in what I write here. I have a sense however that at least one or two, out of shared experience, may echo me.

The first thing, and perhaps the truest thing, is that it will often be uncomfortable. Racism is horrific. To be a true ally to those who face the horrific is to stare it in the face too. That means challenging and fighting it although you are not its target. Loudly. Unabashedly.

But before you begin reaching outward to try and forge alliances, take a look at who is in your life.

I start there because I find myself time and again during conversations about race hearing stories about people's bigoted relatives. As surely as if you are black, if you are white you will find yourself in the presence of racism. It is a fact. Here is another fact. You cannot convince people of the desire to be their ally if your tales of conversations with racist uncles don't include the moment you said “STOP. I'm not listening to this.” Before ANY talk of being an ally can begin, one must ask oneself “When racism is right in front of me, am I the person who will call it out?” Each person knows within his or her own heart if he/she can answer “Yes” to that question. You cannot address what you do not acknowledge. It may not be fun. It may be at a family gathering somewhere. It may be that one family member who's “really nice” except when he talks about “how those people make everything about race” or “how we're letting too many of those people into the country”. When someone comments that “it's okay to be friends with them but nothing more than that”, or shows concern about the neighbourhood “not looking the way it used to”, or expresses hope that their child's black boyfriend is a “rebellious phase” -- do you say anything? What do you say? The racism may at times be subtle, it may at times be overt. It will almost always feel safer to cringe and say nothing. Grandma might be upset that you “couldn't just let it go and keep the peace” (despite the fact that racism is just about the most unpeaceful and toxic energy imaginable.) The silent protest is to ignore it or not respond. Changing the subject is a knee-jerk "fix-it" as well. An ally will call it out, will try to stop it, will refuse to be party to the polluted air any longer. The situation may call on one to excuse oneself from the table, the room or if it's unbearable, the premises. Could you?  Would you?

It is commonplace for people of colour to be exposed to conversations about diversity and inclusiveness that are neither diverse nor inclusive. Consider whether or not you have diversified the tiny piece of the world that you inhabit. If you find yourself surrounded by people of different cultures in your work life, but maintain a personal life of startling homogeneity, question the disconnect. Ponder why your friendship circle becomes so much lighter-complected – if it does – when you take your work acquaintances out of the equation. A couple of years ago I was looking at some friends' photos on Facebook. One set of photos was of a birthday party, the other of a wedding. There was a large group of people in both sets of photos. As I scrolled through, something became glaringly obvious to me. There was not a non-white person in the bunch. I remember being shocked, because I knew those people whose pictures they were to be ultra-progressive, cosmopolitan, very open people. Looking at those photos, however, it was evident that no one with dark skin had made the guestlists. I had an epiphanic moment in which I thought “Ohhh, right. Friends, but almost never close enough to be part of the sacred celebrations.” I didn't look at the photos with anger. I just noticed them. In a powerful, revelatory way.

Diversity.  Assess it in your life.  Contemplate the multicultural aspects of your little world (aside from your hiphop collection and artifacts you've collected on your travels).  The books you read, the films you watch, the theatre you attend.  Is interest in the non-white experience reflected in any of these choices?  The most powerful and poignant voice of a people and their stories is their art -- ask yourself if you ever seek these stories out.

It is very difficult to make people believe that you seek alliance and connection if they are kept solely on the periphery of your life.

Conversely, it is also disconnected to have friends of all races in one's personal life if you then step into your work life and make no effort to fuse that same range of backgrounds, cultures and life journeys into that realm. It means nothing to be aware of the fact that darker-skinned people or people with “ethnic” sounding names have a more difficult time getting hired, or even getting an interview, if that doesn't translate into a conscious effort to give the widest range of people the opportunity to utilize and contribute their skills and talents. One argument that is often put forth when it is suggested that people do this is that qualified white people will unfairly lose out to less qualified minorities. My first answer to that is that it is profoundly insulting, in that it immediately assumes a dearth of brilliance or qualifications in non-whites. My second answer is that even if that were true, where was this thirst for justice when qualified blacks unfairly lost out to less qualified whites for decades? Affirmative Action was created in the U.S. because there were far too many employers who, left to their own devices, deliberately sought to deny blacks in particular any entry way into the workforce. If you want to insult people of colour in an egregious way, ignorantly imply that they are now being given unfair advantages.  To refer to basic attempts at establishing an even playing field as an unfair advantage is quite simply, laughable and slightly less simply, racist.

And here we land at the door to those two horrid words; there are few things that demonstrate a lack of understanding more than claims of 'reverse racism'. It is an interesting term – but the truth is that it is nearly impossible for that to actually exist in our society. This does not mean that there are not blacks who are prejudiced against whites. This does not mean that you might not get a hard time when as a white person you wander into the black area of town and find yourself in the black barbershop. You might. However this prejudice will not be solely because you are white and therefore deemed dangerous and/or inferior, the way it is when the black kid wanders into the white establishment in the lily-white neighbourhood. The prejudice directed towards you is the result of ill-treatment received for years and years by people who look like you. Yes, I know that you are not the one who treated them badly. Yes, I know that you had nothing to do with slavery. Yes I know that it is unfair of them to assume the worst of you because of the actions of other members of your race.

Sit with that one for a bit.

Then listen -- don't just hear but listen -- when black people say that racism is about far, far more than simply not liking another race. It is about far more than the black boy who calls you honky or cracker. That is prejudice. That is ugly. No denying that. But racism is a system. It is a structure. It is an ideology of Eurocentric superiority engrained into the very institutions on which our society is built and on which we depend for its functionality. Racism skews the job market.  Law enforcement. Education. The justice system. Health care. Corrections. Housing. Customer service. When the white person who doesn't like how he was spoken to in the black barbershop walks out, it is safe to say that within 20 minutes that person can be back in a setting which reaffirms his or her privilege and restores comfort. Escape from that unacceptable run-in with prejudice is easy. (The story of it, though, remains a tempting go-to for future efforts to prove that racism happens to white people too.) And when the story is retold, it is almost certain than any version you give of your encounter with the black boys at the barbershop, no matter how embellished or imaginary, will be believed over theirs.

 

Understand that the prejudice shown to them and the prejudice shown to you are not the same. Understand the difference.  Understand that the prejudice shown to you is rooted not in fear that you have come to rob their wallets, but in fear that you will continue to rob their dignity.

Racism is a pain that lives inside the pores.  It buries itself there.  This makes perfect sense -- why would hatred of skin not dwell inside the skin?  Be ready for the fact that sometimes it will come spilling out.  Anger will leak from those pores and frustration will pour from that skin.  Do not try to build a dam when it needs to flow.  Give your non-white friends the space to be enraged about the gross injustice that is racial prejudice and inequity, and resist the tendency to take it personally.  Don't run from the words that are unpleasant.  When your friend tells you that she was called nigger or spic, don't then dance around the words for the rest of the exchange.  If you're going to have a conversation, have it.  If you are good friends, and suddenly a whole lot of honesty comes spewing forth about how awful white people are/have been/can be, fight the urge to burst into tears, begin a speech on White Guilt, or say “We're not all like that.” Trust me, if you have a non-white friend who feels comfortable enough to say those things in your presence, that person probably loves you, does not think you guilty, knows that you're not all like that, and is releasing pent-up pain to someone with whom he or she feels secure enough to tell it like it is. Let your focus be on listening. 

Do not, in an attempt to empathize, make it about you. 

Empathy is a beautiful trait. As human beings, it may be the single most important one.  However being an ally does not mean, when your black friend shares with you a horrible account of a racist experience, immediately sharing a story from your life that you think is comparable. Please please please... this is not valuable.  Your instinct, if you are a compassionate person, will be to make your friend feel less alone. That is understandable.  Instead you will do the opposite, by attempting to draw an analogy that only makes your lack of comprehension more obvious and the gap between you wider.  You may have gone through something awful;  there may be even be another type of bigotry that you have experienced. But commiseration is not necessary in this way. I remember once talking to a white former boss of mine who was gay, and a co-worker who was Jewish, about some of the discrimination we'd faced in our lives.  I can't remember the comment that led me to say this, but I said something to the effect of "The difference though is that if they came for us now -- to save your lives -- you could become straight and Christian in a hurry. For me, there is no becoming white."   

Racism is a very unique experience.  You visibly wear the very thing that reviles people every moment of every day.  Unless your everyday circumstance is one in which there is something about you that is visually different from the majority, something which instantly makes people hate you on sight, you do not know and cannot know.  Just as I cannot know your pain, whatever it may be.  Not being able to know is not a shortcoming on your part.  Don't try to prove that you do. Listening and learning is enough.  

Ask your non-white friends about their lives.  Their lives as black, yellow, brown-skinned people; what they've endured and how they persevere.  Ask not only when race is in the news.  Not only when you want "the black perspective" on something.  Not only when it's time for your thesis.  Ask them because you care.  It may feel odd, you may not know exactly how to do it.  Acknowledge that you're about to ask what may be a weird question and then ask it.  Want an answer, even if that answer ends up being more than you bargained for. (Don't ask when you have five minutes left in your coffee date.)  You have much to gain by listening. When you have time to devote to being together in a sharing of curiosity, caring, and candor, have a conversation in which they share their experiences and witness them. Share in the pain of their injuries.  Share in the joy of their victories. Listen without expectation or assumption. Listen without armour.  Listen with respect.  Listen with love.  

Understand that we live in a world in which being a true ally to people of colour will take courage.  
Understand that there will be fear.  
Understand that there will be joy.  
Understand that you may have to put on your boots and trudge through the muck.  
Understand that people may call you traitor or niggerlover or any other number of things. 
Understand that there will come wisdom.  
Understand that there will come pride.  
Understand that there will be moments when you don't know understand everything -- or anything -- and that's okay as long as you don't pretend to know more than you know.  
Understand that people will leave your life.  
Understand that others will enter. 
Understand that you will lose power.  
Understand you will find strength.  

For now, my future ally, that is my answer.

- TT