Hey, fellow white people; knock it off

I have racist tendencies within me. Say it with me: I am probably racist.

Through the way in which news is reported and people of color are presented in media (fictional and otherwise) I have been conditioned to expect danger when I see people (especially men) with darker skin than my own. I have been conditioned to anticipate attack or criminality. Sometimes when I’m walking down the street and see a black man, my shoulders rise a bit and my heartbeat quickens. My eyes widen and I become more alert and aware of my surroundings. I take note of what he is wearing, should I need to provide a description. I unlock my phone and pull up the phone keypad, ready either to dial a friend or 911. And then a wave of shame breaks over me. Because I realize I did not have the same response to the white man that passed me five minutes prior. So I take a deep breath and check in with myself.

Why do I feel afraid? Is a situation developing that merits my fear? Or is this simply a conditioned response? Is the person staring at me with menace? Are fists clenched ready for a fight? Eyes narrowed as he zeros in on his pray? More often than not, the answer is no. And as we walk past each other, I make eye contact and say hello, hoping this person did not take notice of my profiling, but sure that he did.

I’m not saying we should ignore our fears entirely. Fear is a good thing, meant to keep us safe. But we have to acknowledge that over time we have been conditioned (purposely or not) to fear people with darker skin. The thought process I described above happens in a matter of seconds. By the time I’ve taken in a deep breath to reassess, I usually have my answer and everything is fine. I am, in fact, safe and okay. And thank goodness I didn’t waste anyone’s time or dignity by calling the police. Just take the extra beat. Your brain is smarter than you think it is, and if you broaden your view (literally; take in more of the scene with your eyes) you can start to de-condition yourself.

Please bear in mind, I speak as someone who has lived her life in fear of all kinds. I walked home from the bus stop with an exit strategy. (Throw my clarinet case behind me, take off my backpack to make obstacles for a kidnapper, and sprint home. If I take time to stop at a neighbor’s, I run the risk they won’t be home and the kidnapper will catch up to me. So just get home.)

I speak as someone who has learned to trust her gut instinct. (Don’t go home that way today, take a different path. I don’t know why, just do it.) I speak as someone who after proximal involvement with a shooting, saw someone with an umbrella in hand and thought it was a gun. Who heard a car backfire and thought it was a gunshot. I understand. I get it. There are reasons to fear.

But you want to know the real kicker? I have never found myself with cause to call anyone about something a person of color was doing on the street. I have, however, called about people who are white. In fact, every time my fear has led me to call the police (three times in my life) or sought the company of other girls walking home (twice) it has been in response to a white man.

So far, only white men have made me uncomfortable and scared for my safety. It is beyond time we (white people) consider ourselves as not only perpetrators of the racism problem, but much of the problem itself. My white privilege is constant, with me every hour of every day. It grants me trust and the benefit of the doubt.  It emboldens me to quick judgment and false assumptions. But it’s time to stop analyzing it solely on an abstract, systemic level, and start thinking about it on a deeply personal and individual one.

We have to stop calling the cops on our neighbors when they have a BBQ or fall asleep in the dorm or try to get in their own house when they forgot their keys. We have to stop seeing our neighbors as anonymous black people and start learning who they are. Because if someone really was trying to break into their house, I'm sure they'd appreciate a watchful neighbor. But if you're going to know who doesn't belong in the house, you have to know who lives there in the first place. We have to recognize our role in the problem.

I am racist. (Oof.) It’s about time I acknowledged it. 

Friendship, Anyone?

A brief memo on friendship, presented without qualifiers even though my insecurities are screaming at me to USE ALL OF THEM!! 

You know that feeling when you meet a really cool person, and you just want to wrap them in a big hug and scream, “Let’s be friends!!”

I experience it a lot working in theatre, particularly when I work with someone closer to my age. Working in theatre is strangely isolating, especially for stage managers (that’s an entire post in itself). You get thrown together with a small group of people for 6-8 weeks. You work together closely, sometimes sharing intimate details of your lives. Sometimes having meaningful conversations, laughing together, fighting together. You each pour all of your energy into this one story.

And then the show closes. You pack up, you say your goodbyes, and you see each other in passing (maybe) and you make plans for lunches that never happen. If you’re lucky, you work together again. Building friendship takes time. And we don’t have that luxury. By the time we’re really friends, we’re moving on to other projects. You’re stuck in this cycle of falling in love just to drift away.

Is there a way to prevent that? That’s not rhetorical. How do you create longevity in relationships shorter than a season of Game of Thrones?

I guess what I’m saying is, I want to be friends but I’m an introvert, and I just don’t know how. My insecurities tell me you don’t think the same of me and could never possibly be interested in furthering this relationship. They tell me to stay on the outskirts, not to infiltrate the family. They say I don’t belong.

So if you also find yourself feeling this way, raise your hand. And then let’s hang out over and over again until it sticks. Because frankly, life is just too damn short.