I couldn't blog before talking about #BLACKLIVESMATTER
Well, it’s sure been a while.
I constantly feel like time has passed me by at an acceleration of 9.8 m/s/s while also staying at rest (much like an object at rest tends to do). So much has happened in my own life even though I find myself back at square one over and over again.
I’ll eventually write about the end of my senior year of college, my summer, and the start of my Masters program, but I don’t feel comfortable doing so until I address the virus that has been plaguing the country (and the world as a whole!) for centuries.
Racism.
On May 25, 2020, George Floyd was murdered at the hands of a white police officer as other white police officers watched and did nothing. For eight minutes and 46 seconds, this Black man was suffocated into the ground as the white police officer knelt on his neck.
This act of brutalization and violence against Black people brought worldwide energy into the #BlackLivesMatter movement, with protests happening across the globe. It’s been 101 days since Floyd’s death, and although the media frenzy may be fading away, the work is just getting started.
The fact that I’m able to write this post shows my privilege. Protestors have been targeted by the police and unmarked federal officers. People fear the same level of surveillance that was done during the Hong Kong protests and share critical information about avoiding police surveillance techniques (don’t take photos of people’s faces, cover up identifying features, etc.). Tear gas, rubber bullets, and riot techniques have been applied across the country.
And let’s not forget the counter-protestors who routinely show up to these #BlackLivesMatter protests (which are no more than acts of civil disobedience that every American has a right to employ through the First Amendment) and commit acts of atrocious violence. It’s happened in Portland, Seattle, and Kenosha, Wisconsin, along with countless other areas.
I consider myself an ally in progress. It wasn’t until recently that I started to take the first steps to undo the terrible damage our naturally racist society has done. As a white cis woman with higher education, I am the definition of privilege. Sure, life wasn’t all fairy dust and rainbows for me, but I don’t have the entire foundation of a country built on the enslavement of my ancestors.
With this in mind, I’m writing this post from the heart, with the intention of sharing information I’ve found overwhelming and inspirational and despicable as well as my own thoughts on how we can continue the push for radical change. This is not meant in any way to overtake the Black voices and activism that started these movements, but instead to use my voice and platform to amplify these calls to action and potentially start dialogues in places where anti-racist work was never discussed. This is not meant to be performative activism, to erase my white guilt and make me feel safe and secure that I’m not racist, but instead to open an honest conversation with myself and others about how I and other white people can stand in solidarity with the Black community. This is not meant to be yet another polished corporate statement written to turn the tide of public opinion in my favor, but instead to be a stream of consciousness about my journey so far in learning and doing.
Immediately after the killing of George Floyd, there was a flood of posts on Instagram with calls to donate, sign petitions, and protest. It soon became overwhelming and exhausting for me, so I can’t even imagine what it was like for a Black person to see that. Letetra Widman spoke on this in a news conference after her brother Jacob Blake was shot in the back seven times by police officers in Kenosha:
“This has been happening to my family and I’ve shed tears for every single one of these people that it’s happened to. This is nothing new. I’m not sad. I’m not sorry. I’m angry. And I’m tired.
I haven’t cried one time. I stopped crying years ago. I am numb. I have been watching police murder people that look like me for years.
I’m not sad. I don’t want your pity. I want change.”
I’m a big proponent of the impact of individual action. Everything from protests to spending habits can make a difference. That’s why I’ve been setting aside time during the day to do activism work including:
Watching content on YouTube to passively support Black creators (make sure the content is interspersed with other content so that AdSense money is properly distributed to those Black creators, even if you’ve opened the tab in the background)
Sending emails to my representatives for legislative change (done successfully when 50-A, a bill that locked police officers’ disciplinary records from public view, was repealed in New York)
Reading activism-focused newsletters like one anti-racist action a day and The Daily Activist
Diversifying my social media feeds to not only include Black creators but also disability activists, LGBTQIA+ activists, etc.
Using my economic power to support Black-owned businesses
The BLM movement has already made some progress. No-knock warrants, one of the many racist reasons Breonna Taylor was murdered by Louisville Metro Police Department officers Jonathan Mattingly, Brett Hankison, and Myles Cosgrove, were suspended in Louisville, Kentucky. The ability for police to use chokeholds, the method used by Minneapolis Police Department officer Derek Chauvin to murder George Floyd as fellow officers J. Alexander Kueng, Thomas Lane and Tou Thao watched, were banned in Minneapolis, Minnesota. Statues immortalizing Confederate leaders are being torn down across the country.
But the work has just started.
It’s a journey of learning for myself. I used to support capital punishment, but after watching “13th” on Netflix and reading countless articles about how the criminal justice system was built to systematically mass incarcerate and profit off of Black people, I know that stance was not only wrong but harmful. I used to hear classmates throw around slurs like the n-word and "faggot” and do absolutely nothing, but now I try to recognize the power of words that come out of not only my mouth but from the mouths of others as well.
Even recently I didn’t question the efficacy of acts of symbolic protest, like the decision of Quaker Oats to remove Aunt Jemima from its products due to that iconography stemming from racist stereotypes.
“As a white woman, I very rarely, if at all, see caricatures of people who look like me on the products that people use and rely on every day. This is yet another way the roots of racism run deep.
A message conversation with PushBlack’s chat bot explained to me how the concept of Aunt Jemima stems directly from a minstrel show that profited off of “blatant racism for cheap laughs.” Nancy Green, a woman born into slavery, was hired as a corporate model for Aunt Jemima under the pretense that she’d be fairly paid—surprise surprise, she most definitely wasn’t. She fought for equal rights and participated in anti-poverty organizations in Chicago, but all her image is remembered for is fulfilling the “mammy” stereotype for corporate gain.”
This is not to say that the removal of racist and stereotype-based imagery isn’t important, because it certainly is. I stand by what I wrote back in June, but I’ve grown to focus more on the need for lasting structural change.
Remember #BlackOutTuesday? On June 2, 2020, millions of people posted a black square to their social media feeds, sometimes accompanied with links to resources. It may have spread the message of BLM, but it also swamped the #BlackLivesMatter hashtag and prevented the dissemination of critical resources from organizers.
Remember when it seemed like every company was posting a statement in support of Black Lives Matter? From Nike to L’Oreal, corporate America was saying “We know Black Lives Matter” and “[We] stand[s] in solidarity with the Black community, and against injustice of any kind.” Again, any publicity for BLM was useful and seeing multi-million and multi-billion dollar companies put their influence behind the anti-racism movement was great, but did those companies really mean it?
These were the same companies who treat their workers terribly (Nike with their workers in Vietnam, Amazon with their warehouse workers, etc.), provide services to the US government for immigration enforcement and surveillance (Palantir through ICE, Anduril by creating a virtual border, etc.), have incredibly non-diverse workforces/executives/management (only 4, equivalent to 1%, Fortune 500 CEOs are Black), and stifle the voices of representatives/employees who spoke out for social justice causes (L’Oreal by firing transgender and Black mode Munroe Bergdorf after slamming the white supremacist protests in Charlottesville, and others).
These were the same companies whose executives and owners have been steadily growing their net worth during a global pandemic that has left millions of Americans without jobs, without proper healthcare, and without protections from evictions.
Just look at this data visualization of the wealth of America’s 400 richest people (especially Jeff Bezos’s) and tell me you don’t feel sick afterward.
We, especially corporate America, need to take a page out of Ben & Jerry’s book. Not only did the company’s statement condemn white supremacy and systemic racism, but they also provided concrete steps for change and have a proven track record of social justice.
“Ben & Jerry’s — which is owned by the massive consumer goods brand Unilever but retains “autonomous subsidiary” status — has long been a supporter of Black Lives Matter, first issuing public support for the movement in 2016. The company also has a tradition of forward-thinking initiatives, most recently coming to an agreement with migrant workers in Vermont that helped to ensure better working conditions and wages.”
To any corporation reading this, don’t just say Black Lives Matter, operate like you mean it. Listen to your BIPOC employees, take their feedback, and grow from it. Diversify your workforce, especially at the top. Cut down on your profit margins a bit to make sure you have socially-responsible supply chains and labor practices, including equal pay. Contribute to your local communities to provide under-resourced groups with more opportunities, especially for highly-skilled careers. Donate your money—you can afford it.
Corporations have taken over so much of our daily lives and grown to ridiculous sizes. Do something good with that power.
To any individual reading this, recognize the small steps you can take to make a difference. Protest, whether in person or virtually. Take time every day to read, watch, or listen to materials about racism and how to be anti-racist—if you have enough time to read my blog, you definitely have enough time to watch a TED talk about criminal justice reform or read an article about diversifying educational materials in the classroom. Even if you don’t have the financial resources to donate to bail funds or non-profits focused on anti-racism work, your spending still has power—instead of buying from billion dollar companies with values and practices you don’t agree with (cough cough Amazon), support small businesses (especially those owned by BIPOC) and Certified B Corporations.
VOTE and convince other people to vote. Oh my gosh, VOTE. And not just in November for the presidential election, but regularly throughout the year for your local representatives and legislation farther down the ballot. Congress is 79% white and state legislatures are 71.1% men in an America where 76.3% of people identify as white alone and 49.2% identify as men.
You don’t have to be good at math to realize those numbers don’t add up.
I’ve included resources below that I’ve gathered over the past few months. They are by no means an exhaustive list, but they can hopefully be a start for your own education and activism.
As I said earlier, I’m an ally in progress. I don’t have the solution for racism. I don’t have all of the facts and figures. I don’t always overcome my own biases. What’s important is that I’m trying. And if you don’t think I’m trying hard enough or if there’s something I’m missing or if there’s a stance you disagree with, let me know. This blog post is meant to start a conversation between myself and my readers, not lull me into a false sense of satisfaction that I’m doing the right thing.
Thank you for your time, thank you for your voices, and thank you for your activism.
Do
Read
“Notes of a Native Son” (James Baldwin)
“I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings” (Maya Angelou)
Racism at American Pools Isn’t New: A Look at a Long History
Watch
How to deconstruct racism, one headline at a time (Baratunde Thurston, TED Talk)
A conversation with President Obama: Reimagining Policing in the Wake of Continued Police Violence
Wrong Side of the Road/Freedom (B.L. Shirelle, TEDxMuncyStatePrison)
Policing in America needs to change. Trust me, I’m a cop (Renee Mitchell, TEDxOxbridge)
