The uneducation and reeducation of a white man (GUEST BLOG)
Hello you whirling dervish.
I’m Abe Greenspoon. I’m Amy’s brother-in-law. I live in Ottawa with Amy’s sister Leah, our dog Garby and our cat Chickpea. I’m grateful to be Amy’s guest blogger for this week.
It’s been a tough week for our world. In case you weren’t paying attention, last week a white police officer killed a black man named George Floyd in Minneapolis, Minnesota, and in New York City a white woman named Amy Cooper called the police on a black man named Christian Cooper claiming she was “an African American man was threatening her life”, presumably as a threat to him about the harm the police might cause him. These events come just weeks after Breonna Taylor, a 26-year-old black woman, was killed by three white police officers in Louisville, Kentucky.
As a white man, it’s hard to truly relate to these events. I can only imagine the fear, exhaustion, sadness, frustration, and innumerable other emotions people of colour must be feeling this week. The reality is that I likely will never feel what you feel -- that is one of the fundamental parts of my privilege. But this week I did feel something that I want to share.
I’ve spent the past week sitting with a feeling of deep discomfort. I knew it related to the recent events, but there was something different about this feeling. It wasn’t just sadness for the tragedy of these events. I spent some time thinking about where I was feeling it and where it might be coming from. I felt a weight hanging over me, pushing down on me. Today, I’m still processing it. But I think I’m starting to know what’s going on. The events of this week are forcing me to look inside myself and explore my own racist views and actions, and it’s making me uncomfortable.
For a bit of context, my mantra these days has been that change comes from within. I’ve been closely following and participating in the work of Otto Scharmer of MIT’s Presencing Institute. Otto’s ULab process (and more recently his GAIA Journey process) always begins with a turning inward or a focus on the “inner condition”. For me, this means that my ability to affect change in the world is directly related to my ability to change my beliefs, mindsets, and behaviours.
This past week, I’ve spent a lot of time examining my inner condition and I’ve started to question whether I am who I think I am when it comes to racism. And to be honest, I’m afraid to admit to myself my own culpability because I’m afraid to feel that kind of shame, and to be held responsible for my behaviour.
Before I go any further, I want to say that I don’t have much to teach you about racism in this post. Because I honestly don’t think I know enough about my own racism yet. I thought I knew about racism, but after the events of this week, I think I was wrong. I spent some time this week reading the work of black authors and watching speeches of black activists and it’s clear to me that my ignorance is real.
So why even write on the topic? That’s a fair question. All I can say is that I feel like white people need to open up about their relationship with race. We need to talk about white supremacy, about anti-blackness, about microaggressions, privilege and about the structural racism from which many of us benefit. We need to speak up and we need to act deliberately against racism. We need to become actively conscious about the role race and racism play in society and take actions to end racial inequities in our daily lives. We need to be more than non-racist; we need to be anti-racist.
I need to be anti-racist. And I need to start right now. So I’m making a commitment here to take a few concrete actions as a start. I intend to read more about anti-racism. I’m starting with this excellent anti-racism resources guide. I’m following more activists, journalists, politicians, authors, poets, artists and other people of colour on social media to understand what they are saying and listening to more voices of color. I’m going to speak to family and friends about racism. As Ijeoma Oluo asks, “Now that we’re all in the room, how do we start the discussion?”
The events of this past week have brought our attention (again) to the deep issues we face around racism in our society, and I want to act. I’m going to be an ally and take actions to support and raise the voices of people of colour, financially and otherwise. I remember hearing someone say that “ally” in these situations isn't a noun, it's a verb. What matters isn't who you are, but how you act. So consider this my first commitment to act,
That said, I hear a lot of reasons why people don’t act. People feel powerless to make change. They say “I’m not racist” or “I’m way less racist than that person.” People say it’s not their place to get involved or they don’t feel comfortable wading into the conversation. What this week has taught me is that I’m not willing to make excuses anymore. I can’t. I’m complicit in what’s going on and I don’t want to be.
Who I am and where I come from explains a lot about me. I have mostly white friends. I work with mostly white colleagues. I follow mostly white people on social media. I grew up in rural Canada surrounded mostly by white friends and family. What have I done in my life to prevent or combat racism? Basically nothing at all. And that hurts. Because I've probably been telling myself quietly that I'm here in solidarity with anti-racism. I'm not. I haven't been. I need to stop lying to myself. How many times have I benefited from the system because I'm a white male? How many times have I used my power in ways that also disadvantaged people of colour? Even asking these questions is haunting me.
This post isn't meant to remove a burden. It's meant to place one squarely on my shoulders and force me to act. Those who know me know I'm here for compassion, kindness, and love. But I'm a human being and have many facets. I know I can want all of those things and be racist too. But once I’m aware of my racism, I need to address it.
That said, here are some of my fears about sharing all of this:
I’m afraid that in writing this, my voice will be louder than the people of colour whose voices are the ones we should really be hearing
I’m afraid that this will come across as virtue signaling
I’m afraid you’ll think that I’m trying to unburden myself
I’m afraid you’ll think I’m just another fragile white man
I’m afraid that creating this digital artifact makes me vulnerable
I also want you to know that these are my hopes for this post:
I hope this admission will make it easier for myself and others to hold me accountable for my actions
I hope this admission will inspire other white people to go through similar reflections and maybe even be moved to action after reading this
I hope it gets people talking. And I hope you talk to me about it and tell me how it makes you feel so I can learn from you
I hope I look back at this moment for the rest of my life as a turning point
I feel really uncomfortable writing this. It doesn't make me feel better. It makes me feel worse. But it's like the saying goes, it's always darkest before dawn. Hopefully this is a moment I'll look back on and know I turned a corner. I hope even one other person reading this does too.
If this comes across in any other way than I intended it to, just know that I am open to hearing how I was wrong. I don't really know how to enter this space. I used to think I could turn to my friends who are people of colour for help. Maybe I can. But I also think it's not their job to help me. The knowledge is out there. The truth is out there. I need to seek it out myself. I know I won't be alone, but in many ways this is a solo journey. At least for now. While I turn inward to know myself. Eventually I'll feel confident again to turn back outward and ask for help and seek to build bridges. But I think I have some personal stuff to deal with first.
We live in this world together. We are connected. We are one. The pain, suffering, and injustice we inflict on others so too do we inflict on ourselves. I know that when I act in racist ways or when I ignore those actions of others, I’m responsible for pain in our world. Equally, I know that when I love people as I love myself and encourage others to act out of love, I’m responsible for the love in our world. We are responsible for the world as it exists today. We make it and unmake it in every moment. This is not a reason to be afraid. It's a reason to be awake and to act.
I have so much to unlearn and relearn. Today and the days that follow this writing will be another step in my uneducation and reeducation. This will be a lifelong journey. And I am starting today. I invite you to join me. I invite you to use my story as an example of what could be next for you. Start by asking yourself one thing: am I doing enough?