Privilege, Starbucks, Neighborhood Watch – and the pervasive crime of white apathy

Things White Folks Don’t Knowmsa q

The hardest thing for me to reconcile in my life today,  is that I have children I love and would give my life for whom I know hear about white people in ways that do not describe me. Yet still, they do describe white America. Words that are not false, are not overstated, but in fact are proven out over and over in the daily life of us all.   It brought me to my choice – my choice of voice or silence – marching or watching from the sidelines.

I am a family friend of a Black American family, and I get the perks of outings with the children. I am that uncle that loves to spoil them – loves to hear them – loves to be in touch with the amazing world of brilliant and aspiring children. Any adult in this role knows what I am talking about. We are reminded how smart they are – we are reminded how vital and essential their exposure to and experience of the world. And we know that the wonder we once had for the world and life – returns to us gazing through their eyes.

When one child gets up to go to the bathroom at a restaurant, I stand between the door and the ones remaining at the table – equal distance so I can see the bathroom door entered and those at the table undisturbed. I do this because they are children and because they are in my care.  But I do it more in ways that no one knows because they are children of color – Black children – that do not carry or share my privilege. No one will touch them, speak to them or reach them in any disparaging way – not when they are in my charge. The intolerable reality is, I do have to watch and I do have to be more vigilant. And that tells me things all of white America needs to know.

Leaving the theater as we approached the down elevator to parking,  a white man stepped away from a Black woman in a manner I have honed my sight to recognize. It isn’t difficult, and it isn’t a mistake when noticing the airs of a supremacist, a bigot or racist. One more Black person came toward the elevator and I saw him grappling with his position. I stepped back from the children and put my hand on his arm – leaned in and whispered “this car is not for you.” He knew and acknowledged what I was talking about. His disapproval now directed at me – he stepped back to wait for another car.  I will not allow him near them, or an utterance under his breath to reach their ears.

My rage was subdued by my insistence on normalcy for the children and disruption of our outing. This subject is above my pay grade and is to be reserved for parents and their children. They need no input from me. Though subdued on my face and in my demeanor, my rage was beyond anything I have ever felt. I wanted to hurt him but they were there. They were not subjected to a thread of it. It’s not the only time or only thing I’ve experienced while in the company of these three exquisite young girls.  I looked toward the man with a boundaried nod, shuffling this laughter-occupied group of girls into the elevator.  No one but me and the Black woman who arrived behind us knew a thing. She was the mass-tilting reason he paused about entry. She knew it. Black people know. They have had to be hyperaware for generations. She gazed into my eyes on the three floor trip down, in a way I have considered over and over as to all that her look had held. It was one of understanding and compassion – but also carried a glimpse of fear and admonishment that perhaps I might not be endowed with such clarity and vigilance in the future. I am white, and I have the privilege of forgetting what others endure.

Two Black men were put into handcuffs for sitting while black in a Starbucks. They refused to leave and were arrested. They were asked to leave because they are Black. This is confirmed by white customers who occupy tables with no purchase yet made – waiting for the rest of their party. The many tweets and comments by white people saying “there must be more to the story” are mistaken or racist bias or both. The police who arrested them are wrong. Everything is wrong with this event.

A dear friend of mine asks these questions that no white person can answer – not without  the glaring face of complicity or self-indulgent denial.

“How can I or my children tell the difference between a white person who will shoot us and a white person who won’t?
How do we ask the police for help when we don’t know what KIND of officer will show up—100% compliance will still get you killed, ask Mesa PD ‘bout that. Don’t tell me if I follow orders I’ll be safe, because I will NOT be safe. Miss me with all of THAT bullshit.
Which Starbucks can I wait in for my client, how do I know which door to knock on in my community when I need help?
Are we at the point where white folks have to put HUGE safety pins on their door posts? Businesses have to hang POC welcome signs in their windows?

Until we face ourselves if we are white – we have not faced the truth. The truth is, this is our responsibility – even if you believe it is a construct in which you had no participation. You are participating today – and in so doing you stand on one side or the other. silence is the selection of a position. It is the selection of truth or denial- and it is the selection for racism or equality. Which do you choose?

Things White Folks Don’t Know

s-l640Racial Bias From Neighborhood Watch to Doctor Visits – Black Folks are Dying & White Folks are Sighing Dismissals.

A near tragedy that sits alongside so many others, once again brought to mind the injustices to which I am party. White people like me don’t like to hear it but we are so often complicit in tragedies that seem to have no end in sight. It’s a rickety soap box I stand on because this type of complicity is hard for Black people to forgive – and white people can’t stand other white people who face the responsibility and point out that “you should too.” But I’ve seen the Amber Alerts go viral and so have you. I’ll bet you know someone who reposted over and over or who asked around even though the child missing was counties or even states away.  I can promise you this – there would not have been a Jada or Aaliyah Alert and you damn well know it. Will this article by a guy with zero platform an unremarkable story,  average talent or contribution ever reach anyone or change anything? I doubt it. But I can’t live with not trying.

Another near tragedy. A fourteen year old boy who is lost goes to a door marked Neighborhood Watch. He is lost and needs directions home. What he meets with is white violence and racism that nearly cost him his life.

Neighborhood “Watch Out For Black Kids !”

If you grew up in my time, you remember The Black Panthers. In 1966 when they formed I was only seven years old. By 1982 when Huey Percy Newton fled to Cuba, I was twenty three. I recall the news, the allegations, the horrific criminal profiles of Huey Newton, Bobby Seale, Eldridge Cleaver, the inextricable influence of Angela Davis and many others. My dad would rail at the television with the riots and the fear mongering that went on about these radical criminals. But who were the criminals … we never learned until later … not if we’re white we didn’t. Most still don’t know, and for the sake of comfort probably never will.

Why is all this relevant to a near tragedy involving this fourteen year old child? It is directly related and it is related to every opinion of every white American alive today that is old enough to have grown children. I was thirty before I began any interest in the reconciliation of my American heritage to the truth. The truth is today and was then that Black men, boys, women and girls have been vilified and dehumanized since the days of Black enslavement – and it is still being done today. If you are white and you are less angry about this than any other child – or Trayvon Martin less than a whiter kid with Skittles, or Tamir Rice or any of the others – if you are white and this doesn’t affect you the same as it would a white kid – you are doing it too.

When this woman opened the door, her fear and response to that fear was the driving force that enlisted her husband to get a gun. Stepping back to the Black Panthers once again, their original intent was to protect Black communities that not only had no protection as white communities did – but also were subject to the biases that drove the mistreatment of their community’s citizens, just as it does with police officers today. The Black Panther Party for Self Defense was established because what we see going on today was going on then. Soon, there is going to be an uprising, and candidly I know which side I’ll stand on. White people have to gain an understanding of what is going on with regard to racial inequality – and even legal murder of Black people.

There is no Edgar J Hoover today to conspire and vilify an entire race of people to justify racist attacks by law enforcement and enlist the American public’s white support. We support it on our own through privilege. Yes privilege – that slippery thing that white people like to argue they do not have. I can help you out with your confusion. Privilege is what the white kid has in the kindness of the white woman who hung a Neighborhood Watch sign in case he felt unsafe. That is privilege. Privilege isn’t just in what we get that others don’t. It is what others endure that we don’t have to. Black people face battles we don’t have to. White people don’t face the same battles – because we don’t face ourselves.

There are many white doctors who think Black people feel less pain and under, or incorrectly treat them. Medical Students in today’s educational system, presently taking their final exams believe this myth. You can read this study and many others proving what and why we subconsciously believe these impossible myths.

PNAS (Proceedings of ) National Academy of Sciences of The United States of America Racial Bias In Pain Assessment and Treatment

Still, with all we can prove we cannot pull ourselves collectively from this de facto consciousness that has us not respond to horrors and tragedy we’d never allow happen to white people. Are you white and angry about angry Black people? Answer this. Why aren’t you angry with them?


Michele Obama presented these personal thoughts at the unveiling of her portrait by Amy Sherald;

“I’m also thinking about all the young people, particularly girls and girls of color, who in years ahead will come to this place and they will look up, and they will see an image of someone who looks like them hanging on the wall of this great American institution.”


Of course her words are true. It is profoundly important also that white America see these portraits hung in this great American institution. That we hear and find the extraordinary introspection within ourselves that the Obama’s inspired for America as a collective of human beings. They did, you know – model the virtuous act of introspection. Search for a statement made by either President or Mrs. Obama directed to this nation that did not include a vital look inward. You won’t be able to find one. Such altitudes of clarity are often lost to lowlands of privilege we white folks cannot recognize even within the dispensaries of all that milk and honey. White people as a body of citizens seldom if ever look inward collectively as to who America is – and more, what we might become.

The white-American-collective-social-consciousness is an extrospective view. It is an assembly of assertions rather than biding assessments tempered by recollections and pauses for self-examination. Ours are moth-balled insights in dire lack for our attention, as to who we are and where have been – what we have led – and least of all, what to do now.

This is America now. Whether it is present in our consciousness or not, the broadest view – the aerial view – the Blackest view – of our human landscape is and will increasingly become the height of contemporary American wisdom. It already is the fulcrum for a tipping point still teetering in the ambivalence of white-mindedness. White suffering is a phantom we try to wallow in as our objections reveal themselves to be mere holograms – substanceless and devoid of redemptive cause. It’s a shooting pain, blindingly white, but take comfort – it will ultimately pass, though for some it could deservedly linger. This is fact in our human condition, despite what we may be conditioned to believe. No amount of white denial will shoo this reality away.

White people are no longer the purveyors of societal wisdom, as so many hover to guard a withered dynasty. There is a newer and truer wisdom. One many of us are ready to embrace. Whether instruction for this wisdom comes from women of color, as they bear their burdens a second and third time trying to educate white feminists to the depths and reach of amassing intersectionality – or as men of color reflect what love of country actually looks like – where the preservation of human dignity is not encapsulated in a recruitment poster or the waving of a flag emblematic only of the cost of conquest, incognizant of the blood of the conquered. His is offered to us gently and on one knee. Still though, in our fragility it remains too unthinkable to bear. It is here however – make no mistake of self-deception. It is calling, and it beckons for open and wide celebration.

Swing low sweet chariot coming for to carry me home. It is time for supremacy to die – to rest among its many unmarked graves. Time to take down the homage to a lie we no longer have to live. We can either wither or enlighten, that’s entirely up to us. Perhaps Barack Obama said it best, and even prophetically as to the evolution and enlightenment of governing power. It is tucked away neatly in his summation of artist Kehinde Wiley’s angular view.

“But, what I was always struck by whenever I saw his portraits, was the degree to which they challenged our conventional views of power, wealth, privilege and the way that he would take extraordinary care and precision and vision in recognizing the beauty and the grace and the dignity of people who are so often invisible in our lives, and put them on a grand stage,” he said. “The people in our families, people who built this country, built this capital, served food, took out the garbage.

Thank you President & Mrs. Obama. Thank you to those who have long suffered for this moment in time. It is almost bigger than the presidency and the occupancy of a White House for eight years graced by the Obama’s. This vital historic landing is forever immortalized in these halls, and stands like a lighthouse illuminating the jagged coast of a transatlantic heritage rising to the glory of its own.


Portraits In Black Speak Truth To White Adults And Children Of Color

F * * k The Red Cross

I’ll never forget Hurricane Andrew. My father decided to weather it out in Homestead Florida where he had a condo with an add-on room. When my dad built something, it pretty much stood. He had an affinity for 4X4 pressure treated posts (even for studs) – nothing went in less than four feet, and nothing that went underground had less than eight inches of concrete around it. He always believed that quadrupling everything was the calculable equivalent to certified P.E. stamped engineering. 2” X 12” pressure treated planks were the usual structural compliment for almost anything else he constructed – including decking.

He filled a sanitized tub in the add-on bathroom with fresh water – covered the windows (one assumes with 2X12 remnants) and hunkered down for the duration. Homestead Florida was the location where the category five hurricane known as Andrew first made landfall. It literally swept right through Homestead proper, leaving nothing but concrete foundations for almost everything in its path. When all was over, there was almost nothing left except his add-on, the opening where the adjacent original wall had been – and the closet next to the tub that kept him from the fate of the surrounding buildings that were once the senior addresses of his over fifty community.

It was days of worry, days of trying to get through while also not tying up lines every moment. Praying and hoping that we could just get word on his survival. The devastation reported was hopeless and all but certain in Homestead.  Cleiborn Usry Booker had been reported dead before however, and this wasn’t the only situation he’d been in that experts said no one could survive. On the fourth day, a call rang through to my sister’s phone. I picked up the call, and on the other end was my father. It was him, and his absolute matter-of-fact directness that intonated every instruction and every reprimand of my youth, with one additional affectation – his deliberate and often inappropriate humor. That honeyed flat tone and cliff hanger delivery just begging for me to pitch him the line on which his first and next punch lines hinged.

How are you, Dad?  “’bout dead, thank you.” “We’ve been trying to reach you for days. We’ve all been worried sick,” I told him. “Yeah, sorry to cause so much trouble – thoughtless of me. Maybe I can make it up to you after I get the fuck out of here.” I left you kids a home in my will, Johnny. Afraid I made it – most of that house is in a bag on my dash board. I’d like to bring it to you personally if you don’t mind wading through a few more of my problems … before we discuss the strain this put you all under.”

He has me in stitches again – already. Sarcasm of this kind was the earmark of a favorable mood. At least for this usually-in-pain serious senior WWII POW veteran than didn’t engage mush or sentiment without a death in the family. And even then, it was an alternate form of “gubment issue” southern sarcasm. He had been through a lot over the years. Floods to prepare for at my childhood home. A fire that burned him nearly 65 percent of his body – a condition he was not initially expected to survive. Then there was WWII – shot down over Germany, operated on without anesthesia to remove shrapnel from his body – followed by an eighteen month internment at the infamous Stalag 17 American POW and Jewish concentration camp. And last but not least, one California earthquake and one Florida category five hurricane.

“Tell me son, any wildfires out your way?” No Dad. “Aairraids?” No sir. “Mud slides, flooding, earth quakes – any river on the rise – twister weather – loud music – anything like that out your way?” No Dad – everything is calm and peaceful here. “You sure?” he asks me. “Yes Dad.”  Then I’d like you to rent me an apartment. Clean, serviceable, away from any aqua ducts or shooting ranges – nice quiet and not too much over $1000.00 or so. Can you do that for me son?”  “Yes Dad – we can get on that right away.”

We used to watch Hogan’s Heroes,  Johnny Carson, Carol Burnett, All in the Family and a Christmas special or two. Those were the things that we all seemed to do together in full agreement. Outside of that, there were quite a few gaps we assigned to the disconnect of our respective generations. The Red Cross was something my father had always given to charitably. Pulling money you earned working for him was a negotiation within itself. red crossGetting him to give you money – a feat for a magician. But he did give to Red Cross. “The care packages” he said, “never made it to us. We never received the candy bars or cigarettes intended for POW’s. Even the first aid and reading material ended up in black markets or on sale to officers only” he used to recollect. Often times when Hogan was bribing Schulz with a Hershey bar, he would say … “so that’s where those went” with a smile and a rock in his chair – as though we’d never heard him comment before. Still, he revered the Red Cross  – “it wasn’t their fault – though they might have done something about it” he’d conclude. Those envelopes went out after every fundraising campaign. And the unsolicited phone call didn’t just hang up if it was the Red Cross. He spoke politely, and thanked them for the opportunity to do his part – his Red Cross duty.

“So Dad, how did you get out of Homestead. The Red Cross get our messages to you? When did they finally get you out?”

f rc“No, Johnny, he continued “it was my insurance company that came and rescued me. Actually, they came and rescued people that didn’t even have a policy with them. No, it wasn’t Red Cross. They were handing out shoes somewhere near the shopping center.”

“Allstate pulled up in a four wheel drive. They’re the ones that came out into the mess of things – had a list of names. When I gave mine to them, they handed me an envelope with $1000.00 cash in it – had me sign a receipt, then took  a few of us out to the bus station heading for Jacksonville airport.”

 “Fuck the Red Cross” he uttered in a sincere and modulated tone. “I’ll be giving my money to Allstate from now on.”

Collusion & The Rise of ChristiaNationalist Morality

Each day I hear someone ask the question “what is the stepping off point for the Republican Party?” How long will they look the other way as Trump lies, violates the rule of law and ignores the constitution? How do they continue while evidence of collusion by our president looms in the public’s collective view? How, during this all-consuming event, is the offender against American democracy – one of the worlds most prolific human rights criminals elevated by our president to a normalized status while simultaneously degrading the very office of his presidency. “How do they let it continue?”

Putin is a murderer. An assassin of journalists, dissidents, human rights activists, human rights lawyers, whistle blowers, political opponents – and anyone with aim to interfere with his power and personal profit. “How far will they let this president go, and for how long will they let him continue.?”  “How do Republicans and our president continue to provide aid to this sociopath while systematically poisoning the trust in American law enforcement, judiciary, media and democratic processes?” These are the questions of Democrats and the Democratic Party.

The question of “how far and for how long” is itself an intended reaction within a
formulaic ruse. It sends us on a search for reason based in a morality that the Republican Party does not embrace. A morality that has divided this nation since its inception. The premise of the question “how far” has no relevance. The Republican

Party is not looking the other way. They are looking straight ahead – with decisive and collaborative determination. This party and the religious right – nationalist right – and a
collective of mutually served ideologies have and are colluding to a specific end. The entire lot are colluding with Putin. American Christianity is colluding with Putin and we’re asking why the party they own is looking the other way? Together they represent the intention and the instrument of an anti-democratic movement and we’re playing into their hands by playing by the rules that they’ve abandoned long, long ago.


The Christian Right and the Republican Party have sought and are achieving the very vision that animates and empowers the Trump presidency. This is not a surprise, and the silence isn’t an uncomfortable shame pressing against a morality that’s soon to bear its limits. This is a calculated design. The Republican Party has become a terrorist organization. It has become an authoritarian regime, bent on eliminating the rights of all people not in lock step with the Religious Right – Nationalist – Corporatist – Oligarcichal America that garners it’s profit on top of wars and its labor upon the oppressed.

We continue to approach this crisis as though it’s a partisan stumble made by a few too blind to see the coming fall. We, the enlightened are waiting for the slow-to-see to arrive at a come-to-Jesus moment and they said goodbye to Jesus a long time ago – and it is we, not them who refuse to see. They are not blind, and this fall of theirs …. It is no accident.
GodsRubeGoldbergMachineOne of the problems we face – any of us who wish to make a case for the kind of collusion that actually exists – find ourselves trying to articulate the workings of a Rube Goldberg contraption. The goal is not complex and the aim is nowhere near above board. There are more moving parts than are necessary to the end, and the number of systems in play contradict the reasonability for claim that a system is working to any specific end at all. But that is the beauty of the Rube Goldberg design.  We remain hypnotized by all its moving parts. It in itself is the distraction obscuring its aim. The only certainty is the outcome. The anvil will drop out of the sky and land precisely on its target – while onlookers are mesmerized by the unlikelihood the contraption has any determinative function at all.

So who loves Vladimir Putin? The Religious Right – White Nationalists – The NRA – Anti-Gay factions – Anti-Democratic Authoritarians – and the list continues. Big oil loves Putin, and so does White Supremacist America. The private prison complex and Christian evangelical leadership. Christianity has used Christ to take whatever it wants from whomever it wants since the Jacobean era. And the methods used and means employed look a lot more like Putin’s ascension, than any that have ever been attributed to Jesus. Who loves Putin? More importantly – who is it that shares his values?

This ain’t no slip, kids. This is a plan. As a matter of fact – they’re calling it “God’s Plan.”

Progressive Regression – Lies We Tell Ourselves About The Lies We Told Others


The first day Wikileaks appeared (to me), I researched Assange. He ran for congress in 2013 in the Australian preferential system. A system where all votes are counted. A party recommends to its constituency who their second choice should be – and the voters often, even usually follow suit. Assange selected Australia First. Australia First is a White Supremacist party (think America First for a moment) run by Jim Saleam. A name I surprisingly did not have to look up to submit here because his resume is burned into my brain. He was a leader in an Australian Neo-Nazi group in the 70’s and was jailed for an armed attack and firing shots on The South African Congress.

This is the party to which Julian Assange assigned his second choice – those who would receive the Assange Party votes in the event he did not garner 51 percent. The Russian connection to Assange is easy and has always been there. Putin is an ethnocentric white nationalist leader who has been an exemplar for its growing international movement for decades. While progressive American idealists were arguing Palestine and Jerusalem and fawning over Assange – eating up bizarre and incongruous attacks on Hillary Clinton by way of conspiracy, guess what? Our government was seized in a White Nationalist coup.

Anyone ever notice that Nigel Farange was the first foreign dignitary to meet with Trump? Anyone question why Wikileaks only put out damaging info on the DNC and Clinton? And now that we are here – in the midst of a war of conscience that has pointed its guns at any form of color metering tan to black on a whiteness scale; Do we wonder why a Republican congress turns a blind eye? Do we really wonder why this sycophant collection of greed mongers are okay with collusion of presidential campaigns with foreign entities- and by alliances with agencies such a Wikileaks? Ever wonder why it’s happening? The same reason progressives did it. It suited their agenda. It was useful to promote the false material put out against Hillary Clinton if you were a Sanders supporter. It was useful to draw from PACs like America Rising and American Crossroads and spread it as fact – because their propaganda fostered a seething vitriol against Clinton … and that served a faction of a fragmented but current progressive agenda. Do I believe we should all unite under a corporatist Democratic Party – implications be damned? No. Not at all. But don’t get in bed with the dog and then complain about the fleas. Or in the swamp and cry foul to the alligators.

After these alliances, we’re mad about the alignments no one bothered to worry about before, while the temptation to vilify a perceived enemy was useful. Now we’re upset. Now we would like truth in advertising again. Now we would like all the cheaters hung at the gates of the city. Now we are outraged that MSNBC & CNN, are called fake news while Fox and Breitbart are becoming the source to counter them in a second and almost equally disturbing overthrow. Liars have become the benchmark for truth and their convenience of the time is no longer appealing. Save it. Save your outrage. You are as complicit as Flynn. Every time you drew from that pool -put out a meme – unchecked and unrelated to truth you built the scaffolding underneath the truth war we are in today. Even still though, the bullshit continues. Articles like “Why Susan Sarandon Was Right” might look good on your coffee table while the gang is over to talk about revolution. Don’t forget which revolution you fought in – and for which side. A pawn is reliably unwitting  and seldom self aware enough to look inward when there is so much outwardly to blame. This didn’t bother many people who were for Sanders or for Trump during the heated and detested campaigning. But where did it lead us?

We all have a lot to look at on the truth scale. Let’s be sure in the coming elections this lesson is under our belt. I already see it rising again. And this White Nationalist coup is not over by a stretch –  even if Trump is impeached. This is an international movement and contingencies we haven’t even thought of will arise. Look back on all the glory our progressive body assigned to Assange and the accolades given him for defeating and defaming someone who was not nearly as bad as she was made out to be. Mad at Republicans for doing the same are you? Too bad. It is the same convenience of deception many of us propped our feet upon. If you lean on a convenient lie,  you’ll land in the hole it was pulled from.

Black History Month, Racism & Privilege – An Unauthorized White Perspective


Privilege and Racism; not surprisingly, topics that aren’t very popular among a large segment of white people. I’ve been told a time or two that I wear this topic out. Possibly because I am a white person speaking to white people. What gives me the authority? The truth is, I have none. That’s the point. It is my job to address privilege and racism every single day. Whether you know it or not — if you’re white — it is your job too. I’m not an expert on the subject. Far from it. We do know who the experts are, and we seldom listen to them. By “we” I mean white people. If honest, most of us are just so damned afraid of getting it wrong. Let’s face it, this is difficult work and none of us are experts. We’ll fail on more levels than we will succeed at first. Our discomfort will receive no sympathy, nor should it. It is no one’s job to help us with this, and if anything has ever been disincentivised it’s white people recognizing white privilege. Still, it is our job to come to terms with our obligation to undo racist structures and dissolve the inherent privilege those structures protect and sustain. There is only one way to break down the structures of racial inequality. In America’s dominant white culture — only white Americans can do it. It’s on us to face down the unabated harm of racism in every form we see it. It’s on us to divert it’s unjust favor into a neutrality that no longer extrudes a predetermined white advantage through every social and economic channel.

I’m a white guy. I don’t know any more than you do most likely. My words aren’t derived from expertise or experience. They rise out of a truth that I won’t deny, and a conscience I won’t betray. The only advancement I may have ahead of any white person rejecting concepts of racial inequality or privilege — if I have any at all — are my choices. My decision to set aside white narratives of contradiction — to look without defending as though it were me and those I love affected — as in fact it most certainly is. It’s an easy task really. I start this way; If a person of color is speaking on race, I shut up and listen. If I disagree, I dig deep to find out why. Understanding that we don’t know what it is that we don’t know — is the perfect place to start if you’re white and a person of conscience. Does this mean I buy everything I hear, or that I like being referred to in generalities about my voice, my value, my relevance and who I am as a human being? No. I don’t actually. But I am smart enough to know that the person speaking of me categorically, has been subjected to the dominant, privileged white majority structures that have economically and socially marginalized them for generations. So do I think it’s racist when a person of color says “white people … do… are … don’t…. won’t, etcetera?” No. Racism has two forms. One is systemic, the other is individual. Only by undoing the prior can I claim to not be the latter. So as a matter of decency I defer my presumed right to dismiss, and recognize that a Person of Color’s categorical use of the term “white people” is not racist — it’s fact. It’s my turn to look at that fact. Other’s have had to for generations. I can set aside my paradigm of thought long enough to learn something — and I promise you that I have. Learned something, I mean.

When people of color speak on racial inequality, it isn’t as though we have no evidence to corroborate their claims. We literally have to parse words, disassemble facts that operate as bodies of evidence and reassemble them both materially and syntactically to arrive at a place of plausible deniability. Plausible being the incoherency of deniable conclusions. It’s bullshit if you look at it any other way. You don’t have to look too close to see it.

One thing for sure being white will show you; it’s a tough topic to engage. Probably a whole lot tougher if a person of color is in the room. Yes, a Black person can really throw a wrench in the works if white folks are discussing racism or privilege. These defining pin-drop moments may even be the cause of what some are calling white fragility. We’ll get to that later. Understanding fragility has a prerequisite; seeing and understanding your privilege. It will still piss you off, but explaining what an asshole someone is, first requires there to be an accepted morality they have breached. Don’t worry — no one thinks you’ve been an asshole on purpose. It’s forgivable. Do you know anyone who’s been a prick in a certain department of their life, and then finally saw it — accepted it — changed it? It’s like that. There’s a warm affection that takes place afterward. There’s a trust and an understanding that allows others like him not to fear being wrong. And all of a sudden this momentary insult, once overcome, is a bonding source of community — and yet entirely forgotten. White people are not good at vulnerability. We are stiff and often see it as weakness. For many other communities, vulnerability is strength, confidence and eternally empowering. It’s why we can’t dance. Ahh ah … Don’t be afraid to laugh. 

The truth is, most white people are terrified of being labeled racist. Some avoid social intimacy with black people in order not to risk becoming labeled – an act that in and of itself, labels you just that. Others are very cautious about interviewing or hiring black people because white people do not want to be in situations where we are said to be racist — believing only a person of color can point that finger. Some stop talking about racism when a Black person enters the room so they won’t end up accused. Most of us white folks avoid topics like Black Lives Matter when a person of color is present or within earshot. Most white folks are quite clear that they are not racist, and as a matter of course do not want to be labeled. “We shouldn’t be branded just because we don’t necessarily share the same views on how to deal with racism. No, we steer clear because Black people play a race card whenever there’s a misunderstanding.” Do you want in on a little secret my white brothers and sisters? That IS racism. ‘Fraid so. At it’s absolute whitest and in it’s most patently identifiable form. Our capacity to speak openly about it is because of our ambivalence or our denial. Denial of something we know we are party to, but our majority lends mass to dishonest and complicit justification. Somwhere within you … it really isn’t you. And I’m here to tell you, it no longer has to be.

One thing for certain my fellow white folks — if being labeled a racist is what keeps you from becoming involved in dismantling its insidious and deleterious structures — I can help you with that. The best way to get past the fear that you may be racist, or your fear of being labeled one — is to simply know the truth. You already are a racist. You always have been. As is so often said on matters such as these; the truth shall set you free. And the truth is, if you are white, chances are very slim that you are not a racist. Don’t get stalled here though. No one will hold it against you. Really — no one. Believe it or not, those you most fear offending already know the truth. Take it from a homosexual. When you finally accept that you actually are one — a racist I mean — the folks of color you confess it to, just like dear ol’ mom, already knew all along. They’re just waiting for you to understand yourself. To set your denial aside and to stop casting the consequence upon them. A consequence that sometimes, in the severity of conflict, means injustice, homicide and life altering outcomes that have in no way ever been deserved. Can you live with that? Not without denying it. Think about it.

Be yourself and make the best of the world you live in. Most if not all people of color are behind you all the way. They want you to know who you are. It is the only way we can all become free. Or at the very least, not be unjustly divided. How can you know for certain that you are a racist? It’s very simple. Racism is a societal structure and the beneficiaries of the dominant racial culture, by position and participation, have to be the racists. There do have to be racists for there to be systemic and institutional racism. Certainly we accept that those exist. It’s just that we’re not responsible …right? There is a cost to racism and there are beneficiaries of racism. This can certainly be agreed upon. Take a moment here and think. You don’t believe YOU are paying the price for racism do you? Or that people of color are somehow the beneficiaries? No, we are the beneficiaries of racism. We, the white people. The systems and structures of racism cannot exist without participation. The fact that those structures do exist — and the fact that we participate as beneficiaries, means that we promote and sustain racism. We can change that. As a matter of fact and of conscience, it is only we that can change it. Some of us have already begun.

If you think about it, this is most likely why you can’t discuss racism or privilege very comfortably. Might this be why is it a difficult topic for you to openly or publicly entertain? Why is it such a burden for white people to talk about race and privilege? Simple. Privilege is not a burden to white people. In fact, it is an advantage. An enormous one. We know that, and we can’t dodge those facts among the experts we’ve refused to acknowledge. The nature of privilege is insidious and paradoxical for white people. Our privilege is inescapable by anyone who is not white, and particularly straight, white and male. Our privilege keeps us from having to look at inconvenient truths — ironically, even the truth of our privilege. We are insulated from our own comprehension of privilege. The privilege that marginalized others while bestowing advantage upon us, also shields us from awareness of the very privilege we deny. Still, we know under the surface and we know at our core. Otherwise we couldn’t elevate ourselves to a position that permits us to dismiss the consequences our privilege imposes on others. Our belief we’re entitled to privilege, is in itself the proof that we haven’t earned it. What did you do to earn it today?

We aren’t the experts and have no authority here. Troublin’ aint it?

It has to be done my friends. You gotta go in. No canary. No safety net. And especially no authority. Why no authority? Why does no foundation for thesis worthy of defending exist for you and for me? For starters, you can’t enter the conversation from a place of experience. You have none. You have to take someone else’s word for what an asshole you’ve been lo these many years. I’m not kidding. All of us have to. Terms like “From my experience” is not a preposition that speaks the truth of white people because we have no experience. “From my perspective” is a baseless entrée into any dialogue of merit. It lacks credential. Your perspective — just like mine — is voiced from atop the very structures that insulate us from seeing what our presumed insights are built upon. And they are built upon the human beings whose voices we’ve refused to listen to — about a reality we haven’t endured. You can’t claim to “understand” because you don’t. You can’t say you know how someone of color feels, because you don’t. You can’t offer assistance in facing the burden that the degradation of racism brings. The person you’re talking to knows more, understands more, has experienced more and has listened to more white-splaining than a person should be willed to tolerate. Coming from you, if you’re white — it is likely downright insulting. How much agreement do you think you’ll cultivate denying the only expertise in the room?

So… you’ve been silenced. Sucks, doesn’t it? It feels terrible to have no say in something that defines who you are in very specific terms — so much so that your input isn’t needed even when determining how to deal with who you are and what your behavior represents by an authority other than yourself. No agency over what your presence is worth, or how your lack of clarity makes you just another drain on those who have to live under the burdens from which you benefit. Step outside yourself for just a moment with me if you will. Look from a distance at your internal response to this idea. It’s interesting to witness the internal rejection this particular reality draws from white people who find themselves standing on this square. Most pivot their direction one-hundred-and-eighty about now, if they haven’t left already. They won’t relinquish their franchise in the way our dominant structures have stripped it from all the others. Don’t do it though. Don’t turn around. The impulse alone for that one-eighty turn spins on the heel of abrogation. This could and should illuminate your privilege just enough for you too see it. Turn back around if you’ve begun to dismiss me here. Don’t let this be the spot for you like it has been for the others. This is the point where many of us — at least once — say fuck it. “If what I have to offer isn’t good enough — count me out” most say. “If I can’t speak my mind and be listened to and respected — I won’t be involved. I won’t be treated as less than an equal.” Bingo ! Less than equal … “we won’t be treated as less than.” Pause here for a moment if these feelings are even modestly awakened in you. As you ponder the possibility that you are not the authority – a fact you likely both reject and resonate with, at least enough to elicit a small flush of resentment. This is in part, what white fragility means. I told you we’d get to it. We’re here. Unable to accept a position less than superior and receive the truth from a paradigm of experience you cannot claim — unwilling to assume such a position? Yes, it’s time to do just that if you’re a person of courage and conscience. It’s time.

Less than an equal. This is the only place we (yes I mean white people), have ever been asked to accept a less than equal position. This is the only place that our privilege does not place us at an advantage. The place of understanding. The place of realization of the cost our privilege has placed upon the backs of those upon which generations of white people have been falsely elevated. Not by inherent superiority. Not by a long shot. Not by broader insight, larger capacity or greater awareness. No. By abduction, brutality, disbandment of families, torture, servitude and oppression. Laws and imprisonment — auction blocks and ownership — genocide and enslavement. These are the foundations on which we leave the conversation because we haven’t an equal authority. We possess no credential by which to speak to anyone. Will we really use our privilege this way? Walk away, because we have no equal comprehension? Because we have no equal footing on which to stand? Will we use our privilege to avoid the truth? It is our turn to listen. It’s our job to find amenable resolution. It’s our turn to face the cruel realities a brutal and immoral culture tried to build for us. We don’t face the brutality or the struggle — only the recognition of its existence. Can you deny this recognition to those who have endured its harshness and suffered its cost?

Undoing racism and relinquishing privilege can’t be achieved with warm acceptance, and it can’t be done by acknowledging the rights to equality of those we’ve disenfranchised. They know it and you should too. It is white people who are finally beginning to open to clarity and the truths which no others but us have been unwilling to see. We are not charged with the task of returning dignity to Black Americans. They have never forfeited theirs. It is they who permit us to restore ours, and we so seldom exhibit the fortitude or humility permitting us to reach those ends. We’ve failed in dealing with our role in systemic racism, privilege and what is and isn’t our responsibility. Starting with our effort to simply hear. To talk about it with dialogue that is first formulated from a place of introspection and compassion. Summoning the capacity to listen and to comprehend a past we half hold onto and half deny while never achieving reconciliation — even to ourselves.

Many white people suggest we are not responsible for acts we did not personally commit. Perhaps true I suppose, in theory. Unless of course we deny the existence of those acts. Unless we deflect the magnitude, consequence or severity of those acts. Or if by denying that history, we continue to profit as the cost continues to draw from the lives and generations of those it deprives of things we take for granted as true for all. We are not guiltless if we knowingly draw from a system built upon the labor and deprivation of monetized human lives. These are men and women who have extended every deference, every opportunity, every measure of patience that white America might rise to our own promise. That we might live up to our constitution. That we might demonstrate the moral authority we unfailingly lay claim to across the entire world. Should we remain absolved of blame for all we’ve attained? Undue enrichment is the responsibility of its beneficiaries.

As a white man in what today is falsely deemed a post-racial America, I accept the importance and the duty belonging to white people to seek to understand our whole history. To collaborate with the authority of Black historians as to the story only they fully know. The existence of Black History Month is not necessitated by a need originating with Black people. Black History Month originated in deceptive exclusion of the greatness of their contributions — the burying of truth for the incomprehensible oppression endured to secure white wealth and white dominance. Each time I use the words we, does a rejection arise within you? Do the words “not me” dispel responsibility in exonerating rebuttal? You receive from it. You benefit from it. What is there to deny? It is a rejection of accountability to perpetuate a history we know to not be true. It is theft to profit from it. If we are not honorable custodians of the truth of our history, we have no right to absolution from our lineage or our past. In so doing, we propel the legacy forward and are as responsible and culpable as any have been before us.

It’s no favor we extend. This is not a generosity deserving of recognition that we correct perversions of historical lies. Nor that we restore the omissions and extract the lies from a history we intentionally distorted — whitewashed. We’ve concealed nothing from anyone except ourselves. We know it. We allow others to suffer still while we toy with our ambivalence of right and wrong, as though a recreational whim or purely academic afternoon musing. It’s offensive. Our truth is inextricable from the American story — no matter how passionately we deny it. Our shame isn’t handed down by blood, or alive by the sins of our fathers. It doesn’t exist in the commission of crimes concluded before we were born. No — our sin and our shame is in this moment now, and likely in every moment ahead. Its our privilege and its denial that collude with our past — making even our future one of lies if our course is held and defended.

We have a choice to live the truth or to die with a lie on our lips. A White lie so large it cannot and will not ever be concealed. Look behind you at all those who did the right thing while masses either contributed to ills unthinkable today, or evaded responsibility in the quiet apathy of negligent complicity. The universal stamp that coined the phrase; To be on the right side of history. We only have one life by which to make our mark. What would you most like to leave behind? Every effort to guide our children in truth and by the light of integrity is overshadowed by a legacy handed down in denied shame. John Bradshaw of “inner child” fame identified and authored a truth that proves itself again and again as time passes. “A family is as sick as its secrets.” We know that to be true as the hidden shame of child abuse, alcohol & drug abuse, violence and abandonment have become elevated out of the dark corners of people’s lives. Our greatest minds and most popular modern-day cultural contributors — conservative and progressive alike — have led the way to open dialogue on subjects once endured, sometimes until death, in isolation and hiding.

I hesitated to make this reference of John Bradshaw’s work in this message. He’s received his share of ridicule as an originator of terms and topics that fall under the heading of psychobabble. We’re already tired of terms like “safe space” and “triggered.” How can we look at “inner child” with less disdain, when all of it began there. But that’s partly the point. What we do with truth is what makes it valuable. No one in their right mind would suggest to a child molested by his uncle that “it’s a private matter” and not to tell anyone about it. If a woman were beaten daily by her drunken husband, or him by her — we wouldn’t close the window and pull the shades and drop off to sleep concluding “it’s private family business.” The fleas come with the dog, and most of what we make fun of — we can make fun of because it worked. It made such a difference that it began to be overly applied and we became saturated. We make jokes where our cuts are the deepest. Not necessarily a bad thing. There are dark corners today that white people don’t have to endure. That doesn’t mean we don’t have hardship. A very young man of color I heard speaking said “being white doesn’t mean you don’t suffer. But you’re not going to suffer because you’re white.” I’m uncertain how anyone can miss the truth of this. Or deny it. We’re all imperfect. John Bradshaw said of himself; “Everything I write about I struggle with myself,” Mr. Bradshaw once told the Observer of London. “Therapists are like the Wizard of Oz. Pull back the curtain and you find we are frightened and scared, too.” I speak from a place of absolute certainty, but do so without the authority. I’m as ill-equipped as anyone but so are you. Bradshaw, whatever one thinks about his work — was not wrong when he said “a family is as sick as its secrets.” And I’m not wrong when I tell you; A nation is too.