Tired. I’m familiar with the tiredness that results from mommying, where you are now part zombie from months, years, of sleep deprivation. I know what it feels like to be exhausted from long workdays or just long, busy days in general. I’ve known weariness from personal loss, relationship trials, and growing pains. But this, the treading in the pinnacles of racism, is a discernibly different kind of tired. Watching someone full of hate, unashamedly take George Floyd’s life and watching Amy Cooper exploit the consciousness of her privilege, and its power. Watching white people dressed in all black, vandalizing and looting, trying to paint a picture of discreditation and make it credible, to mar an already scarred people, and then watching Trump. Tired.
Here are some things I hope can give those who in these past few weeks have found strength fleeting, a little joy.
Language.
“…We do language. That may be the measure of our lives.” Toni Morrison is one of my favorite authors. Her words, always so masterfully caroled together, have, time and time again, inspired me to aspire to such beauty of language. She is legendary. Every time I read her work, it makes me want to lock myself in a beautiful room with pen and paper (or rather my Surface Pro) until I’ve discovered even just a piece of that kind of genius. During this time, find strength in language, a book, an essay, a poem, the Bible.
I recently came across an essay Toni Morrison wrote for the New Yorker in 2016 called, “Making America White Again.”
This is a serious project. All immigrants to the United States know (and knew) that if they want to become real, authentic Americans they must reduce their fealty to their native country and regard it as secondary, subordinate, in order to emphasize their whiteness. Unlike any nation in Europe, the United States holds whiteness as the unifying force. Here, for many people, the definition of “Americanness” is color.
Under slave laws, the necessity for color rankings was obvious, but in America today, post-civil-rights legislation, white people’s conviction of their natural superiority is being lost. Rapidly lost. There are “people of color” everywhere, threatening to erase this long-understood definition of America. And what then? Another black President? A predominantly black Senate? Three black Supreme Court Justices? The threat is frightening.
In order to limit the possibility of this untenable change, and restore whiteness to its former status as a marker of national identity, a number of white Americans are sacrificing themselves. They have begun to do things they clearly don’t really want to be doing, and, to do so, they are (1) abandoning their sense of human dignity and (2) risking the appearance of cowardice. Much as they may hate their behavior, and know full well how craven it is, they are willing to kill small children attending Sunday school and slaughter churchgoers who invite a white boy to pray. Embarrassing as the obvious display of cowardice must be, they are willing to set fire to churches, and to start firing in them while the members are at prayer. And, shameful as such demonstrations of weakness are, they are willing to shoot black children in the street.
To keep alive the perception of white superiority, these white Americans tuck their heads under cone-shaped hats and American flags and deny themselves the dignity of face-to-face confrontation, training their guns on the unarmed, the innocent, the scared, on subjects who are running away, exposing their unthreatening backs to bullets. Surely, shooting a fleeing man in the back hurts the presumption of white strength? The sad plight of grown white men, crouching beneath their (better) selves, to slaughter the innocent during traffic stops, to push black women’s faces into the dirt, to handcuff black children. Only the frightened would do that. Right?
These sacrifices, made by supposedly tough white men, who are prepared to abandon their humanity out of fear of black men and women, suggest the true horror of lost status.
It may be hard to feel pity for the men who are making these bizarre sacrifices in the name of white power and supremacy. Personal debasement is not easy for white people (especially for white men), but to retain the conviction of their superiority to others—especially to black people—they are willing to risk contempt, and to be reviled by the mature, the sophisticated, and the strong. If it weren’t so ignorant and pitiful, one could mourn this collapse of dignity in service to an evil cause.The comfort of being “naturally better than,” of not having to struggle or demand civil treatment, is hard to give up. The confidence that you will not be watched in a department store, that you are the preferred customer in high-end restaurants—these social inflections, belonging to whiteness, are greedily relished.
So scary are the consequences of a collapse of white privilege that many Americans have flocked to a political platform that supports and translates violence against the defenseless as strength. These people are not so much angry as terrified, with the kind of terror that makes knees tremble.
On Election Day, how eagerly so many white voters—both the poorly educated and the well educated—embraced the shame and fear sowed by Donald Trump. The candidate whose company has been sued by the Justice Department for not renting apartments to black people. The candidate who questioned whether Barack Obama was born in the United States, and who seemed to condone the beating of a Black Lives Matter protester at a campaign rally. The candidate who kept black workers off the floors of his casinos. The candidate who is beloved by David Duke and endorsed by the Ku Klux Klan.
William Faulkner understood this better than almost any other American writer. In “Absalom, Absalom,” incest is less of a taboo for an upper-class Southern family than acknowledging the one drop of black blood that would clearly soil the family line. Rather than lose its “whiteness” (once again), the family chooses murder.
Music.
I love gospel music because it’s inherent message is hope. It speaks to your spirit and reminds you. Here are a couple of my favorite songs that have been on repeat this year.
An oldie, but definitely a goodie is Darkest Hour, from the Clark Sisters.
Another One, from Anthony Brown and Group Therapy.
Also, have you heard the new single from Shelby 5? Beautiful.
Art.
There are so many inspiring and uplifting Black artists to follow on Instagram. One of my new faves is Heather Polk out of Chicago. Follow her at @artscuresall or @artsyandbougie. You can buy one of these prints ($85) at artcuresall.com.
Unity.
There are several social justice organizations to follow and donate to (a few listed below). I’ve signed petitions and have donated to NAACP and Color of Change. I’ve also signed up to be a monthly donor for the Know Your Rights Camp, started by Colin Kaepernick.
NAACP
Color of Change
Change.org
Black Lives Matter
Know Your Rights Camp
Equal Justice Initiative
The thing that we all must do is VOTE! Here are the 2020 State Primary and Presidental Dates.
But the elected officials who matter most in reforming police departments and the criminal justice system work at the state and local levels.
It’s mayors and county executives that appoint most police chiefs and negotiate collective bargaining agreements with police unions. It’s district attorneys and state’s attorneys that decide whether or not to investigate and ultimately charge those involved in police misconduct.
-Barack Obama, How to Make this Moment the Turning Point for Real Change
Take care. Xo
