what I can do

Like so many of you I look at the state of the world around me, at the pervasive systemic racism, and I am heartbroken.  I know that I'm privileged simply because of the fact that I had to be told how challenging daily life is for my black friends - it's not something that I've directly experienced.  Back when Christine Blasey Ford shared her story of sexual assault I remember talking to white men and listing the things I take into account in my daily decisions as a woman - not getting into an elevator if I'm the only woman, having my car keys out and in my hand before leaving a building and stepping into the parking lot, walking only in well-lit areas, etc.  They had clearly never thought about such things.  And I think back on that discussion and am struck that for my black friends it's so very much worse. 

And so, like you, I've been sitting here thinking, trying to figure out what I can do as a white woman.  I can never fully understand the impact of systemic racism, because I will never truly experience it.  But this is what I can do.

I can listen.  When my black friend tells me that she's always been worried about the safety of the two black sons she's raising, especially as they grow older and the world stops seeing them as cute and starts seeing them as a threat, I can be quiet and listen.  When my black students tell me that they do not see the police as protectors, but rather as someone not to be trusted, I can be quiet and listen.  When those same students tell me that they wish there were more teachers that looked like them, I can be quiet and listen.  When my white friend tells me that she had to talk to her young adult black son about transferring his car title from her name to his name, just so there are no questions if he gets pulled over, I can be quiet and listen.  When my pregnant black friend tells me that she's praying for a daughter instead of a son, because she can't ensure his safety, I can be quiet and listen.  

I can watch.  When I see things happening to people of color in my community, instead of walking by and keeping my head down I can stop, watch and bear witness.  When that happens I can use the skills I've worked so hard to develop these last 8 years - keeping my composure, downloading calm to others, using noticing language, using my big voice to speak out - because unfortunately the fact that I'm a white woman makes a difference in how those skills are perceived.  I can watch people speak, protest, riot, and see it for the cry for safety and connection that it truly is, then share that with the world around me.

I can choose.  I can choose to support black businesses.  I can choose to read books by black authors, about black issues.  I can choose to add more diverse books to my classroom library, to make sure the faces on the covers reflect the faces in my classroom.  I can choose to expose my students to the work of major African-American choreographers (Alvin Ailey, Pearl Primus, Katherine Dunham, Donald McKayle, Tally Beatty, to name a few), and I can choose to do so all year, not just during the month of February.  I can choose to use music by black artists in my classroom.  I can choose to have tough discussions when my students ask tough questions about race.  

Lastly, I can vote.  Long gone are the days of making my voting decisions based on what my perceived authority figures say.  Now I can vote for what's best for my friends, my students, my community, and the people who have been so terribly underrepresented by the leaders historically and currently in office.  

What can you do?