The Miasma of Ignorance
I am a white woman. What right do I have to weigh in on Black Lives Matter? These are the two thoughts that have kept my mouth shut, my grief silent and my outrage worthless. That and fear. Fear of getting it wrong, fear of offending, fear of ... fill in the blank.
It’s a fear that might seem benign. But that couldn’t be further from the truth. Instead, it fundamentally maintains the status quo of rampant discrimination. It is a silence that says to the world, and, indeed, to any individual who is trod upon and abused, that it is A-OK with me.
It is this complicity of silence that has allowed our so-called justice system to incarcerate African Americans at five times the rate of whites, black households in having only ten cents in wealth for every dollar held by white households, and unequal educational opportunities for black children. If that weren’t bad enough, it has permitted police to murder black men, women and children. I’m deeply sorry it has taken me time to understand the power of my silence and relieved to have found a way out of the miasma of ignorance into the light of truth. The only place I now care to stand.
I’m reading a lot about white privilege these days. It’s not my fault I have it; that I haven’t had to walk in a world where the color of my skin endangers me and puts those I love at risk on a daily basis. I’ve come to see that my privilege comes with the responsibility to work towards social justice for all. I want to say this is more necessary today than ever. But, no. That would fly in the face of decades upon decades of injustice - which is just a normalized word for subjugation, brutality, hate and racism.
My journey to understanding this has not been well-lit and effortless. It was challenging, asking me to look at how my privilege plays a part in this country’s system of racism. A questioning I leaned into after seeing George Floyd die under the knee of a policeman. It made me willing to sit in the ugly truth that this has gone on for generations. A recognition that rang in my ears along with the names Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery, Eric Garner, Laquan McDonald, Eric Logan and name upon name that would fill these pages.
Where does it end?
What mother, indeed what human being, could hear the dying words of George Floyd and do nothing? THIS is where I’ve learned the color of my skin matters. My voice - my white voice - is what has been missing.
As Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. wrote in a letter from the Birmingham jail, the “great stumbling block in the stride toward freedom” is “the white moderate who is more devoted to order than to justice.”
I used to counter comments about police brutality with the certainty that not all cops are racists. Now I see, saying “they’re not all bad” is missing the point. It’s a way to marginalize the problem and take the talking point away from where it needs to be. No longer will you hear me dismiss the horrendous and criminal state of law enforcement in the U.S.
It has become clear to me that any form of injustice will not be solved as long as the people free from that injustice continue to tolerate it. That is privileged behavior, knowing and not taking action. Remember, white privilege doesn’t mean you’ve had an easy life. It just means you haven’t had to suffer under systematic racism on top of your other struggles.
Please go online, find Dr. King’s letter from 1963 and read it. His words resonate profoundly to this day. “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.”