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bondjam33 70M
881 posts
5/1/2015 2:30 am
Pause for thought


A blog post which eloquently sums up a situation on which all of us could spare a few minutes to ponder.

Dear White America,

It is somewhat strange to address this to you, given that I strongly identify with many aspects of your culture and am half-white myself. Yet, today is another day you have forced me to decide what race I am — and, as always when you force me — I fall decidedly into “Person of Color.”

Every comment or post I have read today voicing some version of disdain for the people of Baltimore — “I can’t understand” or “They’re destroying their own community” or “Destruction of Property!” or “Thugs” — tells me that many of you are not listening. I am not asking you to condone or agree with violence. I just need you to listen. You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to, but instead of forming an opinion or drawing a conclusion, please let me tell you what I hear:

I hear hopelessness
I hear oppression
I hear pain
I hear internalized oppression
I hear despair
I hear anger
I hear poverty

If you are not listening, not exposing yourself to unfamiliar perspectives, not watching videos, not engaging in conversation, then you are perpetuating white privilege and white supremacy. It is exactly your ability to not hear, to ignore the situation, that is a mark of your privilege. People of color cannot turn away. Race affects our lives every day. We must consider it all the time, not just when it is convenient.

As a person of color, even if you are privileged your whole life, as I have been, you cannot escape from the shade of your skin. Being a woman defines me; coming from a relatively affluent background defines me; my sexual orientation, my education, my family and my job define me. Other than being a woman, every single one of those distinctions gives me privilege in our society. Yet, even with all that privilege, people still treat me differently.

For most of my childhood, I refused to allow race to be my most defining feature. I actually chose for most of my childhood to refuse race as my most defining feature. But I found that a very hard position to maintain, given the way the world interacts with me and the people I love. Because I have to worry about my brother and my cousins getting stopped by the police. Because people react to my wonderful, kind, intelligent father differently, depending on whether he’s wearing a suit or sweat pants. Race has defined the way I see the world like no other characteristic has.

This can be hard to understand, if you never experienced it firsthand. So again, for just one more moment, reserve your judgments and listen. This is what you might come to realize, if you spent your days in my skin.

In childhood: People regularly ask “What are you” instead of “Who are you?” This will not end, either. In high school, one even asks if you are “Mulatto,” which, according to some scholars, originally meant “little mule.”

A few years later: Go on a road trip with your mom. Refuse to get out of the car at a gas station in the boondocks, because you are sure the person with the Confederate flag bumper sticker is going to realize your white mother married a black man and hurt her (and you too, being the byproduct of said union). He’s carrying a rifle on a gun rack. Now even more terrifying.

As a : Be the only person of color in the majority of your Advanced Placement classes, even though there are a decent number of brown and black people at your school. For years following 9/11, get “randomly” selected for the additional screening at the airport.

In college: People assume you got into Princeton because of affirmative action. They refuse to believe it could be because you are smart.

In adulthood: Your younger brother has been stopped in his own neighborhood — the neighborhood he has lived in all his life – and asked what he could possibly be doing there.
At your workplace: For two years in a row the NYPD shows up randomly at the school you work at, which has a 100 percent minority student body. The first time the police don’t even tell the school beforehand. The cops just show up early in the morning, set up a metal detector and X-ray scanner, and fill the cafeteria with dozens of policemen. As your young students file in in the morning, the NYPD scans them like they’re going through airport security right after 9/11. They confiscate cellphones, and pat some of students down, particularly the older-looking boys. As you watch this, you feel anger welling up in your chest and almost start to cry. You think, “Why are you treating my like criminals?!” are in tears. The screenings are not due to any specific threat, but rather as part of a “random screening program” — but one that never seems to make its way to the Upper East Side. White America’s are told they can go to college, be anything. These students are treated like suspects. And that is exactly what society will tell your one day, unless something changes.

Today, tomorrow, every day: White people around you refuse to talk about what is happening in this country. The silence is painful to experience.

These are my experiences. They have deeply affected who I am. And I am SO PRIVILEGED. Mine has been a decidedly easy life for a person of color in America. I try to conceptualize what it is like for my students who got wanded by the NYPD, my students who have been stopped and frisked, my students whose parents work multiple jobs, my students on free and reduced-price lunch, my students whom white adults move away from because they look “scary.

I try, when I can, to listen to them, because only by validating their feelings can we begin to find a way to overcome the challenges they face. That doesn’t mean I let them off easy when they do something wrong. But I try to understand the why.

I don’t need you to validate anyone’s actions, but I need you to validate what black America is feeling. If you cannot understand how experiences like mine or my students’ would lead to hopelessness, pain, anger, and internalized oppression, you are still not listening. So listen. Listen with your heart.

If you got this far, thank you. By reading this, you have shown you are trying. Continue the conversation, ask questions, learn as much as you can, and choose to engage. Only by listening and engaging can we move forward.

Black is Beautiful and Black Lives Matter,

Julia

Julia Blount was born and raised in Washington, D.C. An alumna of Princeton University, she is currently a middle school teacher.

lilium6 74F
4498 posts
5/1/2015 5:19 am

Amen. Thanks for this important post bond.


hobsonschoice 75F
3600 posts
5/1/2015 11:19 am

Good blog. I don't stand by and listen to racist comments, jokes, or put downs, I make it clear that I won't tolerate their ignorance and I don't want anyone to misunderstand my silence as being in agreement.


bondjam33 replies on 5/2/2015 4:33 am:
Hobsons - I wholeheartedly agree. I cannot stand to see people stygmatise, demonise or otherwise denigrate people on the basis of race, colour, creed,sex, sexuality etc. as it flies in the face of my idea of common humanity. I have to speak out or consider myself complicit.

bijou624

5/2/2015 12:11 am

Instead of treating them like animals or at best second class citizens, just for a start how about the government paying every single African American family in the U.S. $50,000. as a token reparation for kidnapping their ancestors and forcibly transporting them on slave ships to America. This racism is a problem of epic proportions that has been going on for centuries.


bondjam33 70M
840 posts
5/2/2015 4:25 am

    Quoting lilium6:
    Amen. Thanks for this important post bond.
I thought it was important to have people at least consider what it is like to be discriminated against at every turn. I hoped that it would give people pause for thought and I am encouraged that, apart from one completely closed mind, it has done so.


bondjam33 70M
840 posts
5/2/2015 4:26 am

    Quoting  :

I would have heartily concurred with you but it seems that we would both have been wrong from the attitude of one commenter on here unfortunately.


bondjam33 70M
840 posts
5/2/2015 4:28 am

    Quoting  :

Audire I am glad you did turn on your profile to comment. You echo my thoughts entirely. In a small way I can empathise. As the 'scholarship' boy at Grammar school I was always regarded with suspicion, pity or even derision as my parents were not 'the right sort'.


bondjam33 70M
840 posts
5/2/2015 4:42 am

    Quoting  :

You are one of the wise old heads I knew would read this with understanding. Common humanity is not as common as you and I would like Anza unfortunately, as evidenced by one commenter on here. I am encouraged by the number of people who have commented positively on this post and I hope the hundred others who have read it will be given 'pause for thought' at least.


bijou624

5/3/2015 10:24 am

    Quoting  :

I saw all those boarded up stores and boarded up row houses in Baltimore. There is such poverty and unemployment there, and most of the young men have criminal records from all the bogus arrests and can't get a decent job because of that. One Baltimore city councillor said he had been arrested 13 times before he was 19 yrs old, just for standing on the street. Considering how many billions (trillions?) of dollars the U.S. pays out every year in foreign aid, I think the U.S. could use that money to pay reparations for slavery. Think of how badly that money is needed by poor black families and how it could help rebuild neighbourhoods and economies in cities like Baltimore, Chicago, Detroit, Washington D.C. Anyone who didn't want the money wouldn't have to take it.