In the previous post, I shared about my first ever Anti-Racism event, “Let it Start with Me: Anti-Racism + Yoga Workshop” led by my Anti-Racism Coach, Tina Strawn.
In this post, I’d like to share my second Anti-Racism event I organized and was a part of!
Since Tina was in LA for a couple of weeks, I wanted to make sure to spend time with her AND I really wanted to introduce her to some of my friends, as she has become such a significant person in my life.
Tina and I discussed doing a MLK inspired dinner, where we’d gather a group, eat and discuss King’s Letter From a Birmingham Jail.
As a white woman, raised colorblind, believing we are all the same and, of course, “not racist”, I thought it a great idea to invite Tina to have a meal with my white friends. And I assumed that since my best friend’s parents happily opened their home to a party of twelve and offered to cook for the occasion, that this was evidence of the important people in my life taking a first step on an Anti-Racism journey.
I would soon see this is not the case.
“Martin Luther King with a side of Pallela is not Anti-Racism work.”
Tina brought her two cousins, and I invited one of my Black friends, making four Black people and eight white people. And when four Black people walked into a kitchen of eight white people, it became clear what Tina and so many Black people mean by predominantly white spaces not being safe.
A distinct tension fills room, a tension that sounds like a very high pitched “hi! hello! nice to meet you!” I could now see how us white people want so badly to ignore race and play it cool. But we’re not cool. We’re awkward and confronted and, turns out, we’re not fooling anyone.
After we finished eating, it felt like a good time to pass out copies of MLK’s Letter From a Birmingham Jail and start a discussion.
It’s important to note, many of the quotes and memes posted on social media on MLK day come from this particular letter, except King’s words are misrepresented in a way that elevates “good white people” and negates what Dr. King is saying— which is, that good, white, non-racist people are more dangerous than the KKK.
This is what we discussed at dinner, and this is where whiteness is thrust into the spotlight.
Whiteness looks like an emotional reaction to talking about racism and imagining what it must have been like for Black people in the past, because after all, racism is a past mistake.
Whiteness sounds like, “I know I’m not doing anything to perpetuate racism but I’m not doing anything to help. Where should I start?”
Or
“I can’t believe people online can be so mean and racist. I would never say things like that.”
Or
“I just can’t believe this is over the color of our skin. We’re all the same!”
Whiteness also shows up at events where good white people feel they’ve done a great deed by coming to events that center Black history, but take no further action afterward.
These are examples of how whiteness showed up at dinner.
Whiteness, however well intended, has a draining and dehumanizing effect on BIPOC. White people crying about racism asserts the white supremacist power dynamic; one where we are fragile and sorry and ashamed and confronted, leaving no room for Black people to be truly heard, and no room for anti-racist inspired action because we’re too busy crying.
I acknowledged this was the first time almost all the white people at the table had ever engaged in a discussion about race, racism and white supremacy.
I acknowledged that I too was a white woman living thirty-two years convinced I’m not part of the problem, that my warm heart and spiritual practices exempt me from considering the impact my whiteness has on Black, Indigenous people of color.
I learned that this was not a safe space for the four Black people at the table and I believed Tina’s cousin when he shared that talking to white people is typically very draining.
I have been on an Anti-Racism journey for the last seven months, working with an Anti-Racism Coach and learning how to dismantle systemic racism and white supremacy by looking at the ways I personally uphold them as a white woman.
While there are many ways to start on an Anti-Racism journey, the book “White Fragility” was a key resource for me, as it gave me a new and necessary vocabulary for what it really means to be white. This book alone is not indicative of Anti-Racism work but it’s a very helpful start.
Both Coach Tina, as well as every book I’ve read, podcast I listen to and every Black mentor I follow on social media insist us white people are going to fuck up and make mistakes on this path— something I dread because I never want to let anyone down or hurt people of color, but I have made a lifelong commitment to divest from whiteness and show up for BIPOC in real, helpful and even risky ways.
At the end of the day, I’d rather make mistakes on an Anti-Racism path than continue being harmful on a not-racist path.