Last week was the final week of the White Fragility discussion group I facilitated, sparked by the world’s response to George Floyd’s death. As we begin to see the movement take up a smaller and smaller percentage of our news and social media space again, I thought it would be a nice time to share just a few of the highlights, as well as how a few people personally chose to answer the question that is still very much on everyone’s mind: What else can I “do”?
As one by one we shared our commitments to continued action going forward, I was particularly interested in the way a few of the women chose to frame their ideas…
What stood out most were the following components:
Values + Tools + Impact
Values: What are your deep-seated beliefs about what's most important, and what needs to get done?
Tools: What skills, passions and personal gifts do you and your unique experience bring to the table? What privileges might you have to actively use?
Impact: What combination of the two has the potential to make the biggest difference?
As just one example, one member brought up the idea of coaching sports in underserved communities. It's something she's already extremely passionate about, and something that has previously made a significant difference in her own life. I could see the way she lit up when she talked about it, and so I started to wonder that if by approaching our work in this way we might be able to more deeply integrate it into our existing lives so that our contributions become more lasting and impactful than a few weeks of social media posts or a one-time donation.
When we integrate our service or political action with what we already do, perhaps a "lifelong" commitment becomes a little more inevitable.
While there were too many wonderful thoughts and resources from these past few weeks to even begin to do justice to the conversations we had, here are just a few that seemed additive to the what you may have already seen many times by now on social media:
Constructive conversations: Some of you may be finding conversations with friends or family getting so heated you'd rather give up talking about the issues than strain or lose that relationship. It’s a reasonable desire. But it also feels very similar to why our country is so polarized today. Not only are we told to "never talk about politics or religion" in polite company, but subsequent to the 2016 election, more and more broaching these conversations really could have the power to sever lifelong relationships. But can you see why falling back on the option of not talking at all has gotten us to where we are today? We should be talking about politics and religion and race. We need to, or our viewpoints will continue to become more polarized through the increasingly isolated echo chambers of the news, social media, and people we surround ourselves with. As a collective what we really need to learn is how to have these conversations in a way that keeps them going instead of shutting them down in a way that simply maintains the status quo.
Taking a "beginner's mind" to others' perspectives: Often in wanting to confirm that we're right, we can be quick to lose our curiosity about why the other side might have a particular perspective. How did they grow up? What were their experiences? What have or haven't they been exposed to that might be different from us? To have constructive conversations, we need to practice empathy and step into others' shoes to truly understand their perspective before we attempt to share or justify our own. What's more, it's really hard to have these conversations on social media. While it might be a good place to learn more about a viewpoint you already agree with, people find it much easier to pass judgment and throw attacks than they would in a room face-to-face with another human, and the loudest voices often find the most viral traction. Notice that next time you think the conversation on social media is reflecting what's going on offline.
Emotional triggers: Why is race so hard to talk about? One reason that came up across multiple stories we discussed was that it's not just "uncomfortable," it can be uncomfortable to the point our nervous systems light up like a Christmas tree - and it happens on both sides. One white member shared a story about feeling like she was going to throw up when she got called out for the way she phrased a certain social media post. Another story recalled a black woman who, after misinterpreting a situation to be racist and attempting to give feedback, went completely flush and rushed out in embarrassment without another word. These stories sink into the pits of our stomachs because we know the feelings. Conversations around race can make us feel really, really vulnerable and exposed.
Generation instant gratification: We should want change and we should demand it now. But an interesting idea was also raised about how our most recent generation's bias toward instant gratification may affect the way we go about it. We dive into something head first and work exhaustively for a few weeks, and then we burn out. Or we take a bunch of big short-term actions like posting on social media and rallying at protests expecting to see change, and start to feel hopeless when we don't. It doesn't make us bad. We're passionate and it's simply part of the way many of us grew up. But it's something we need to be conscious of so it becomes something we can also move beyond. So we actually start to do the work that takes time, and sustain our action and motivation as it does.
While not free from fault, I do believe White Fragility can serve as a great start to understanding what drives many white people to respond defensively when it comes to issues related to race, and even more importantly, why those of us who think we are allies are actually an even bigger part of the problem when we stop being aware of our blind spots and we stop actively acting for change. For those of you who would like to read along with me next, I will be starting Ibram X. Kendi's How to Be An Antiracist. I welcome an exchange for any willing.
To those women who joined me for the group this past month, you know who you are, and thank you one last time for your courage, vulnerability and commitment.
