I don’t know what happened between Michael Brown and the man
who shot him. I wasn’t there and I
believe in the concept of innocent until proven guilty. But there are a few things that I do know.
I know that I was taught to find the police if I feel unsafe. I know that I don’t worry about my brother
getting shot in the street. I know that
what’s happening in Ferguson would never—could never—happen in my neighborhood. And I know all of that is related to the fact that I’m white.
Having white privilege doesn’t make you racist but not
acknowledging that privilege kind of does.
It’s not enough that you personally treat all people equally or that you
voted for Obama or that a bunch of your friends are not white. The system is broken. Not acknowledging that—not seeing the
benefits that you reap that others do not—just perpetuates that system, in all
its brokenness.
That brokenness is what leads us to discussing whether Brown
was a good kid bound for college or a robber.
As if either determines the worth of his life or the tragedy of his
death. It’s why sentences for black
offenders are 10% longer than white offenders who have committed the same
crime. It’s why white people commit
heinous crimes and we immediately ask about their mental state but non-whites
commit crimes and it’s a result of their culture or character.
White privilege doesn’t mean I’ve never struggled in my
life. It doesn’t mean I haven’t worked
hard to get where I am. It means that
“colorblindness” isn’t enough—that I have to look closely enough at the world
around me to see the colored lens that’s already there. It means that I have to examine what
prejudices are engrained within me just through living in this world. It means that whatever pride I have in my
accomplishments should be met with even greater gratitude for the opportunities
I’ve had that others have not. And it
means that I owe it to the world to help it become a place where others get
them too. Just because I didn’t break
it, doesn’t mean I shouldn’t help fix it. And it needs a lot of fixing…
Cassidy,
ReplyDeleteJust wanted to express my gratitude to you for sharing your thoughts so honestly and openly. My students (all seniors) and I have been in the process of asking questions about Ferguson and avoiding assumptions and conclusions. Although we're in the discovery mode now, we recognize that the next step is empathy. Do we fully understand what it means to be in another's shoes? Michael Brown's, his parents', a police officer's in Ferguson, a community member's, a bystander's? I've shared your post with my students as an example of someone grappling with that question. Again, thank you.
Holly
Holly,
ReplyDeleteThat sounds like a great discussion and a really good lesson in general on how to approach situations outside of our own experiences. I hope that your students gain a better understanding of what's happening in Ferguson but also that they remember the process you've all gone through as they're presented with other people's stories. I'm glad my post could help the discussion!
Cassidy
Thank you for writing my post -- or the one I should have already written.
ReplyDelete