This blog is going to be a little off the intended normal topic for Managing It All, but as you read, maybe you will see in my world, it does align with balancing family. My very diverse family is the motivation for me writing this and hoping the racial tensions in our country get better. I keep watching and wishing I could do something, anything besides hoping it will get better, but with each passing month it seems the divide grows and fear and hate wins. So instead of just watching, wishing, and hoping this will be my attempt to try and do something – anything.
My intentions are not to anger, though I am sure some will disagree, but if you read with an open mind you should know I have quite the opposite intention. I am hoping to start a conversation that may help begin bridging a gap of understanding a perspective that could be the cause of some of the tension and frustration. I hope to open dialogue between friends who may have never felt comfortable broaching the subject before in fear of offending each other while quietly still not understanding. I make no claims to knowing the answers to such a very complex and difficult challenge such as this, but I do want to share my perspective and lessons I have learned from what I call, somewhere in the middle.
The Middle Perspective
I am white. This is a very clear undeniable description of my outward appearance. The fact that I am a woman, that I grew up lower income in southeast Dallas, and that I am not a super model puts me at a certain disadvantage than others of the same “whiteness”, but this is where my story diverges from many other white southern girls. I am proud of who I am and where I come from and I have had the unique opportunity to experience what I like to refer to as “somewhere in the middle” perspective. I have watched the insanity unfold in our nation over the last few years, but I do know unfortunately it is not new, it was just given a stage with cell phone cameras and social media sites. The racism, the fear, the ignorance, the homophobia, the hate, the unknown, and the voices of what I pray is the many, drowned out by the few with the spotlight.
You see, I have a perspective most like me do not have and will never have. I have a perspective that many of those in my race have never had the opportunity to experience and one they will never understand. With this knowledge, I can see a surrounding, that is a gap between so many of us it sometimes feels as if there is a canyon separating people in the same room. I do not claim to be the expert nor to answer for anyone’s else’s stupidity, make excuses for anyone’s hatred, or to compare to anyone’s tragedies. Each is to be owned by those who bore them. I only hope to provide a perspective from the middle, that if it can help close even one gap, some good has been done.
How I Got Here
My experiences and my family have a rich diversity of races, religions, sexual preferences and beliefs. I grew up in an area where white was the minority and it was normal. My parents were open about all things including race, religion, and sexual preference. I have always been a fighter for equal rights and a hater of prejudice. These are the types of people I tend to gather around me. On the other hand, I also had those in my family and circle that were prejudice and ignorant. I have been loved by racist and bigots. I had spirited debates with some, others I ignored and casually smiled along with their stupidity knowing I would never change decades of intolerance. I also share blood with the rednecks who meet all stereo types and while never meaning any harm, just by upbringing and an unfortunate education, know no better. This is the mix of life in Texas.
There is a long line of interracial relationships in my family, including my grandfather who lived with a black woman in the 60’s, after he and my grandmother divorced. My aunt married a Mexican, who was like a second father to me growing up, which produced my bi-racial cousins. Interracial relationships were not odd to us, this was a part of life. One thing I have always truly believed is that you should never limit love because of the color of someone’s skin or their gender for that matter – I find it sad to imagine how many people have passed up true love because of this narrow view. Maybe this is why my siblings and I and some of my cousin have dated or married within multiple races and within the same gender at times – you should never pass up the chance at true love. I did get lucky and find my true love, who just happened to be a black man. We have 3 beautiful mixed children. One of my half-sisters, who herself is half Native American, has 2 half black girls and a black step-son, and another sister who has a half-black daughter, who happens to be gay, and I also have full white nieces. The point here is we have diversity and I have seen it from different angles.
You know the old cliché’, “I can’t be raciest because one of my best friends is ___”, fill in the blank with a race and you will probably hit someone in my circle. I know it is meant to be funny, or a play on the state of the narrow minded with only one or two friends of a different race, but I use it to explain a point of conversation. My life goes well beyond that. I have friends that cover most races, ethnicities, preferences, and religions. Not only do I have those I call friends, I have sisters, brothers, cousins, aunts, uncles, nieces, and nephews. Those I would give my life for and those who would give their lives for me and my children – of many races. This is family. Not just by blood or marriage, but many by choice. This is a perspective that makes a difference.
Now that I have touched upon the basic picture of the melting pot of diversity that is my family and life, I hope you understand why I am able to share this unique view of the middle and just maybe we can start to bridge the gap in the conversation a bit.
Included In The “All” of Humanity
Let’s start with a hard one. A conversation I saw plaguing my Facebook feed causing the best of friends to virtually unfriend each other and anger to get away from us all. The “Black Lives Matter” movement. This is one I have had many spirited debates over, even within my family. I will not, and do not endorse violence as a means of protest nor the senseless killing of innocent lives, but that is not what the purpose or meaning behind the movement. I do understand the anger and frustration though.
One of the conversations I have heard over and over is why can’t we say “All Lives Matter.” Well here is my perspective from the middle. Of course all lives matter! Saying black lives matter, does not take away from the fact that all lives matter. It is meant to serve as a reminder to the fact that black lives should be included in the “ALL”.
So, take a minute to realize the gravity of the truth that there is a group of people who feel their lives are no longer included in the “all” of humanity. They feel they are targeted and therefore have to protect themselves and their children by reminding the country they matter. As a mother, father, aunt, or uncle take a minute to feel the anxiety that must put on your heart each time your child leaves the house. Place yourself in that situation just for a second and tell me if you wouldn’t want to scream anything you could from every mountain top if it would make at least one person stop and think before they acted against your child. I know I would scream whatever I hope would protect my kids.
Fear Cycles
I have never feared as I was pulled over on a dark road in the middle of east Texas, but I am terrified now at the thought of my husband or one of my nephews being pulled over on that same road in the middle of the night. Terrified. This is not an overstatement. This is a fact. You see, I also have the unfortunate perspective of the inside of the racists house. I have heard the jokes and comments. I have seen the outrage at the “n* getting our jobs”, and “taking our women”. I know what hate can turn to. I especially know what it looks like in back woods little towns of Texas.
Then I hear the argument, “as long as they do as they are told they will be ok”, but video after video has proven that to be wrong. With each stupid tragic event and following retaliation to the event, tensions grow and triggers release and the cycle continues. This is in no way a statement against police officers, I stand with our brave men and women and all those who protect and serve properly. I do believe there are many more good police officers than bad, this is about ignorance and fear of individuals.
This is why a reminder that “Black Lives Matter” is not a bad thing. It is not meant to separate, to take away from any other race, or any other cause, it is meant to stand up for a group felt they are targeted simply for the color of their skin. Instead of insisting we say “All lives matter”, or getting angry about it, why not start the conversation of how can we make this different? Why is there a need for such a movement? Why does this fear exist? Ask the questions, make a difference. Start the conversation.
Understanding The Real Symbol
The confederate flag conversation follows along the same vain. While I understand the pride in being from the south and how that pride is grown into our souls, the symbol of the confederate flag shouldn’t be the source of the pride. A flag is more than a piece of cloth with color. It is the representation of a belief, the heart of the people it represents, and something people lay down their lives to protect.
The confederate flag wasn’t born out of a representation of a neighborly, good hearted, southern lifestyle as many have argued for it today. It was born out of a people wanting to lay their lives down to protect their right to keep black slaves. It was born out of bigotry and ignorance.
This is a very hard picture to get past. If you are coming at the situation knowing you are not seeing the flag as anything other than a symbol of southern pride and you can’t understand the anger, then please take a step back and realize what that symbol may mean to others. Also remember, there are unfortunately those who still use that symbol to represent that hatred and racism, who want it to still have power and spread fear and pain. It is noble that some want to take the power back and make the flag represent something else, something good, but that is like putting water back into a broken glass. Somethings are just better left in our past.
Just Be Happy?
The other conversation that tends to leave a gap in understanding is one concerning fair or equal treatment in general. This is a conversation that through the year’s changes in terminology, but since the passing of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 it has never been a conversation that whites and blacks could freely discuss. After all, it is not one that shines a good light on the history of our country or ancestors, nor is it one that makes a lot of sense to some of us.
Anytime I see the social media feeds of confusion and heated debate, or hear the arguments of “how can you not feel treated equal with all you have”, or “are you expecting it to be handed to you,” or “are you saying I didn’t work for what I have,” by my fellow melatonin challenged brethren, I cringe and want to reach out and tape their mouths or virtual fingers as it may be.
Yes, my friends, while it is better than 1960’s that is a low bar to brag about. Keep in mind laws were just being changed within the last 40 years to protect rights and desegregate. The law to allow my husband and I to marry was just put into place 9 years before I was born. Just 4 years before my husband was born! The workforce was still being shaped and managed in the 70’s and 80’s to protect and allow for equal treatment.
These are things protecting basic human rights within our lifetime folks. Think about it – within OUR lifetime. Not our great grandparents, OUR lifetime. Things are improving and will continue to improve with the right leadership, focus, and conversations, but this doesn’t start with accusations of “why aren’t you happy with what you have”. Change the conversation, make a difference.
Just Not Good Enough
According to a 2015 report by the non-profit think tank, Economic Policy Institute (EPI), that researches economic trends and policy impact on working people in the United States, black men make 22% less than white men of the same education, experience, metro status, and region of residence. Black women are at 34.2% that of white men, and 11.7% less than white women of equal. (sorry ladies this is a trend across all races compared to the men – that’s a whole other blog). The report also shows the gap has widened since 1979, not gotten better. It is not just this report, it is a statistic in almost every comparison of “success” there is – Everything from CEO’s and Board of Director assignment disparities to high-school graduation by race, college attendance rates, and yes even the incarcerated by race rates.
The numbers do not mean that a black person hasn’t worked as hard nor that a white person didn’t earn what they received, but it does show that there is still an unequal advantage occurring. We must stop having the conversation making one dependent on the other. Stating there is unequal advantage doesn’t mean that all white people didn’t earn what they have, but we should take a step back and think through the logic of the statistics and know that it also can’t mean that this many black people just didn’t keep up and earn equally what their white counterparts did. You see the perspective from the middle? Did this start long before most of our generation entered the workforce, probably, but it is still there. Is it up to us to do something about it, most definitely! Start the conversation.
It’s Not Always From A Bad Place
One thing I see from this middle perspective that often causes friction in this conversation is just a simple inexperience of perspective that is sometimes perceived as a level of racism. I had a conversation with one of my friends where she was frustrated after such conversation and she made the statement that she doesn’t care that someone is black and that she doesn’t understand why this is seeming to be where a lot of black people start the conversation.
Now, being from the middle, I understand her dilemma. She was taught not to see color as a judging factor, not to make it a part of the conversation nor decision, so now when faced with that being the topic she doesn’t understand. She feels trapped and no matter what she says will be wrong and offend someone. So why try?
My advice to her was to remember that for most black people discussing something with a white person, color must be in the forefront of their minds. Sometimes it is an unconscious thought. Sometimes it is a very conscious decision. This is what I have learned from my friends and family through the years, and while the color of skin doesn’t rule their lives, it does have to be a center of focus because so many people or circumstances, have made it a center of focus for them for so long. It is a survival instinct. It doesn’t mean they think you are racist, nor does it mean they are racist, it just means it must be a thought or discussion.
This is what life taught them, just as she was taught not to care about the color of skin. So why try? She should try for the same reason she was taught not to care about skin color, because it is important to have the right conversations. It is important to have the diversity and differences. If you have true friendships with people of all races these conversations become easier and the understanding is there – don’t be afraid to ask the questions. Start the conversations.
What Are You?
I have experienced the differences. I have been in a store with my nephew, to have the clerk step out and follow him until they saw he was with me. We have had the entire room stop and look up as my husband and I walk in together hand and hand since he was the only dark person in the room (though I would I love to think it was because we are such a stunning couple). I have seen one of my best friends fired over something a white colleague or even myself would have received a slap on the hand for.
Our children get asked what they are all the time…really “what are you?” (My husband taught them to say Texan. Really confuses people.) Being a white American has anesthetized us to the fact that we don’t have to think about the color of our skin, which makes us lucky and makes it hard for us to see the other perspective. Unfortunately, black Americans (and other races) have not been as lucky. So, I ask that we keep that in mind the next time we want to have a conversation about how equal everything is among everyone.
While I want to believe the best in humanity and believe things have and will continue to get better I do know there is still evil. No memory makes me empathize more from the middle than this one. Years ago, I was stopping for lunch at a little café somewhere small town Texas. I had my then 18-month old niece, with her dark golden skin and beautiful curly hair, and we sat in a booth as she laughed and played a little too loud. As we ate, a couple of ladies who had given us dirty looks and made a few rude noises, got up to leave. I thought they were upset because she was too loud, so I smiled an apologetic smile, but then one made a comment as they walked past, something to the effect of “mating with monkeys” and “creating an abomination”.
Through The Heart
She said it loud enough that the lady in the booth behind me gasped. I set there too stunned to move or think fast enough of a witty retort, or a nice jab in the eye with my fork. I was heart-broken and embarrassed as I watched her walk to her car, but then my niece called my name in a giggle as she realized I wasn’t paying attention to her. In that moment, I felt such sorrow for that lady as I knew my gorgeous happy niece had no idea what she had said, and that lady would never know the love of such a beautiful human being.
Until now, I have never told anyone that story because I was so ashamed I didn’t stand up for my niece that day. I quietly paid my check and quickly got out of there without making eye contact with the lady who had gasped, nor the black waitress that I know must have heard, and knew I didn’t take up for my sweet innocent niece. There are not many things in this life I regret, but that day still haunts me.
Not that I could have changed her mind, or that making a scene in front of my niece would have solved anything, but I can’t tell you how many comebacks I have thought of for that nasty woman since that day. I honestly didn’t know how to handle it because I had never encountered such hatred directed at someone I loved so much. Obviously, I had seen prejudice. I had even experienced it directed at me, but I had never experienced it aimed at my heart, and at that time my niece was my entire heart.
Which brings me to the ability to only empathize on a small scale. I can only imagine what someone who has had to experience such hatred a majority, if not all their lives, to their family, their hearts, must feel or go through on a daily basis. How many conversations you must go into already on the defensive, how you must mentally prepare yourself for the worse outcome, and how hard it would be to trust humanity will do what is right when it has let you down so many times? So, while those of us with good intentions and good hearts don’t always understand the defensive approach, we should take a step back and consider everyone who has been encountered before us in the conversation.
Start The Conversation
The goal here is to hopefully begin to help bridge the gap among a few. To help lend some perspective so that both sides of a complex difficult challenge understand that it doesn’t always start from a place of hatred and racism, but most of the time starts from a place of misunderstanding, misinformation, or simple awkwardness. I am in no way claiming to be an expert nor do I claim to have the answers or speak for one race or another, I just have a unique experience that has afforded me lessons and an education that could possibly help someone who is struggling to understand.
One thing I do know is that the best solutions start with communication. I know most of my paler skinned friends are not as comfortable asking questions or starting the conversation in fear of offending someone, and my darker skinned friends would welcome the open productive dialogue and discussion about the questions and differences. So, you see this is why I think it is important we start closing the gap.
Allow the communication to start. They are not easy discussions. It is messy, confusing, and quite honestly not something everyone can participate in effectively, as race and equality are emotional topics. But these are important discussions and we must start closing the gaps and start coming up with real solutions.
So, I leave you with this my friends from somewhere in the middle, I hope that we all find a way to love deeper, communicate better, to understand a little more, and open our minds to hearing someone else’s perspective. History has shaped where we are, but we need to remember the history we are talking about wasn’t that long ago and there are still things that need to change. One movement or cause doesn’t negate another and even the best of intentions may have followed years of bad experiences, so choose the words carefully.
This comes down to conversations that are many shades of colors and nuances with complexities and depths that need to be explored. Remember in this world, very few things are ever just black and white.
#starttheconversation