"Forget the liberal or conservative. Are you for right or are you for wrong? Are you for humanity or are you not? Are you for brown people to be treated fairly or are you not?"
– D.L. Hughley
If your social justice work is not centered in elevating the humanity of all people – and especially people who are on the receiving end of most social injustice – then you're not really doing social justice work.
If your social justice work is not motivated by love and regard for other human beings, then you're not really doing social justice work.
If your social justice work doesn't recognize the need to heal intergenerational racialized (and other) trauma, then you're not really doing social justice work.
If your social justice work is trying to reimagine and reconstruct more equitable systems, but is not centered in a strong sense of community, then you're not really doing social justice work.
We fight for social justice because we know and can see and can experience so much social injustice.
For every racist, narcissistic, dismissive, privileged, arrogant, powerful White person who is not interested or willing to entertain any of these approaches, there are plenty of others who are, and who will come together to affect positive change.
We just have to be determined to make it happen.
Social Justice Work Is Not a Game
Just because you're newly learning about the social injustices of the last several hundred years doesn't absolve you from the responsibility of actively addressing them.
Keep on your journey of learning and growing and immersing. But don't wait to take action and do the right thing.
There's nowhere to arrive, no final destination, no enlightenment, no magic potion you can drink that transforms you into suddenly "getting it."
Don't rely on your privilege to concoct excuses for why you are not taking action, why you are not challenging the status quo, why you are not disrupting dominant narratives.
Social justice work is not a game. Don't be a savior or a philanthropist or a performative ally. Don't try to be "woke."
You don't have to know everything to do something. If you learned something yesterday, apply it today. Even if you don't fully understand it.
Use your voice to drive impact and affect change. Question authority. Confront injustice. Demand equity. Absorb criticism. Act with conviction. Speak with confidence.
Start becoming the new you now. Start being decisive. Step into your new role. Stand up. Step up. And show up.
People on the downside of power don't have the luxury of waiting while you sit on your ass.
You know better. So do better.
Bust That Shit to Pieces
Writing sucks sometimes.
I'm about 98% done with the editing of my book.
The last thing I have to do is rewrite the Section 10 introduction on calling people out on their racism.
I'm procrastinating. Instead of writing that intro piece, I'm writing on LinkedIn about how I'm not writing that intro piece.
It shouldn't be that hard. 1000 words at the most. I've already got the outline. I know what I want to say. I know that this new intro will be better than the old intro that I'm replacing.
I even put the time on my calendar from 2:00–4:00: "Write New Section 10 of Book."
I meet with my editor on Friday mornings. I told him (and myself) that I'd have it finished by this Friday so we could go over it and make tweaks.
Today is my best window to write it. I don't write well in the evenings. I write well in the early mornings, but my early mornings have been filled with other stuff.
This is my window. And I'm not opening it. The lock seems to be jammed. The air is getting stuffier. Pretty soon I might start sweating. And swearing.
Maybe I'll need to throw a rock through the window. Bust that shit to pieces. Get some fresh air. Step through all the jagged shards beating my chest with my fists.
In other words, I need to go for a walk. What I should have done half an hour ago.
I'm No Longer Interested In Being Right
When I was first waking up to how socially unjust and inequitable the world is, I was a snarky asshole.
My dad had just passed away, and I decided that there was more to life than the perfect wave and the perfect beer and the perfect football game to be watched on the perfect wide screen TV.
I moved to San Francisco and I intentionally started doing things that I had never really done before.
I started reading a lot. I started to listening to different perspectives and voices and stories. Perspectives and voices and stories that were unfamiliar to me, that I had not bothered to listen to in the past.
Instead of going to bars and sporting events I started going to lectures and poetry readings and political events.
I was excited and inspired and enthusiastically changing who I was. And I wanted to make sure everyone knew it. I argued and debated and condescended and dismissed and mocked and bullied and satirized.
And most people didn't really like me that much. Unless they happened to agree with everything I thought and said and did.
But I don't go about it that way anymore. I've matured. I'm no longer interested in being right. I'm not interested in alienating and dominating and proving.
I'm more interested in connecting and uplifting and collaborating.
Is Your Self-Interest Winning Out?
"His argument with himself raged, but his self-interest won out." – John Biewen
This was a reference to Thomas Jefferson and his decision to continue enslaving people.
He knew it was wrong. He didn't feel that great about it. But he also didn't feel that bad about it either.
And since he was in a position of power and authority (legally, racially, economically, politically), the thought of what he would lose if he were do the right thing won out over doing the right thing.
But this isn't about Thomas Jefferson and slavery.
This is about you and the decisions you make every day. The decisions about how you treat people, how you talk to people, how you listen to people, how you empower people, how you amplify the voices of the silenced.
How you hire people. How you promote people. How you fight for people's rights and agency and autonomy and safety and opportunities.
How you risk your power, privilege, and social capital for the benefit of others.
Or how you don't.
How you either center your own narrative and needs and interests at the expense of the narrative and needs and interests of others.
This is about you. You having that argument with yourself enough times that it's no longer an argument.
And you just do what you know you're supposed to do.
AIDS: Forty Years Later
June 5, 2021 was the forty year anniversary of the first reported cases of what later be known as AIDS.
On June 5, 1981, I was three days away from my eighth birthday. I lived in El Cajon with my mom, my two-year-old half-brother, and his dad.
My dad lived in Los Angeles. Once every two months my mom would take me up to his flat in Hollywood to see him for a weekend. He lived with his "roommate."
I didn't know he was gay. I likely didn't know what gay was.
A few years' later my friend and I would do that Eddie Murphy bit from Delirious where the doctor says, "Mr. Johnson, you have AIDS," and Mr. Johnson says, "AIDS! But I'm not a homosexual!" and the doctor says, "Sure you're not a homosexual!"
We thought it was so funny to deliver those lines just like Eddie Murphy.
My dad told he was gay when I was fourteen. His partner died of AIDS a year later. Soon after, he told me that he was HIV+.
In 2000, he died of AIDS.
Since then, doctors and scientists have found ways for people with HIV/AIDS to live longer, more comfortably, and free from a certain death sentence.
The stigma has lessened in many parts of the world (though, significantly, not in all), and there are greater legal rights and protections for the LGBTQ community.
And, forty years later there is still no cure.
What Are You Doing to Humanize?
"When you see blatant dehumanization, what story do you have to tell yourself to be okay with that?"
– Brené Brown
Racism by its very nature is dehumanizing. Racism was designed specifically to dehumanize.
Racism has been working by design for hundreds of years, dehumanizing and dehumanizing group after group after group, person after person after person after person.
Dehumanization comes in many forms, from the seemingly (but not) minor to the blatant and fatal.
From being dismissed and overlooked and ignored, to being belittled and bullied and discriminated against, to being attacked and beaten and murdered, dehumanization always has negative consequences.
We all see it happening all around us. Some of us are more attuned to it than others. Some of us can recognize its more subtle manifestations more easily than others. Some of us are committed to humanizing more than others.
But to say we don't see it is a lie. To say it's not happening is harmful. To gaslight people who are being dehumanized is dehumanizing.
The effects of dehumanization are traumatic, long-lasting, and intergenerational.
So what do you do when you see it? What are you doing to intervene, to change the narrative, to disrupt the status quo, to break the cycle?
What are you doing to humanize?
Fear Makes Us Irrational and Racist
One of the biggest contributing factors to the perpetuity of racism is fear.
We are afraid of the other.
We are afraid of the stereotypical traits and behaviors of people "not like us" that we have absorbed and chosen to believe with little reflection or examination of their veracity.
We are afraid of all that we imagine we will lose if were to no longer cling to the alleged comforts that come with racism: physical safety, psychological safety, materials possessions, power and privilege and status and social capital.
We are afraid we will lose our friends, access to opportunities, money, our job.
These are all invalid fears, but we cling to them anyway. Rather than shape a new narrative for ourselves, our communities, our societies, our nations, our world, we perpetuate old played-out narratives that have been told for centuries.
Depending on the context, we sometimes add new racist twists to these new narratives. And sometimes we don't even bother to change the old racist tropes and motifs.
We are afraid of vulnerability and connection and justice and equity.
We think we are more comfortable in this reality, never realizing that sustaining this reality is about as comfortable as swimming in a pool of lime juice after paper cutting our entire body.
That's what fear does. It makes us irrational. It makes us racist.
Read Books By and About Black People
White people are always asking, "What can I do to fight racism?"
There's a shit ton you can do, of course.
And one of the best ongoing things you can do is read books by and about Black people and other people of color.
This doesn't mean you have to stop reading books by and about White people.
It just means that reading books only by and about White people gives you a limited perspective of the vast dynamism of the human condition.
I've probably read over 1500 books in my life. And up until about six or seven years ago, I'd say about 85% of them were by and about White people.
At one point, I realized that that was not okay. And I intentionally decided to diversify my reading. I intentionally started reading books by African writers, Asian writers, Latino writers, Native American writers.
I didn't stop reading books by White people. I wasn't on some crusade against White writers. I just wanted to be more aware of a wider scope of lived experiences.
I re-established what was "normal" for me to read. I expanded my opportunities for learning, growth, connection, understanding, empathy.
Well, gotta go! Gotta get back to What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Blacker by Damon Young.
Rather Peculiar
"I've found that I find
The things that you find
Important rather peculiar."
– Vandaveer
I find it peculiar that you think gun rights are more important than stopping people killing other people with guns.
I find it peculiar that passing voter suppression laws is more important than ensuring all people have access to vote.
I find it peculiar that saying there is no systemic racism is more important than working toward ending systemic racism.
I find it peculiar that your freedom of religion is more important than the freedom your religion denies people who don't align with your religion.
I find it peculiar that you think empty boilerplate statements in support of diversity, equity, and inclusion are more important than actually doing the work that would lead to more diversity, equity, and inclusion.
I find it peculiar that you think gaslighting people when they share their experiences of oppression and marginalization is more important than believing the experiences of people who are experiencing oppression and marginalization.
I find it peculiar that your choice to stay cozy in your safe, familiar, comfortable bubble is more important than learning and growing and uplifting people who are on the downside of power.
Rather peculiar indeed.
Centering Social Justice Work
DEI efforts fail because we don’t center social justice.
Yes, we want more inclusive workplace cultures. Yes, we want more Black executives, pay equity, gender neutral bathrooms, accommodations for people with disabilities.
All that and more should be striven for. And, until people with power realize why these gaps exist, they will continue to exist.
June is Pride month. As the son of a gay man who died of AIDS, I support and celebrate Pride month. And part of that celebration is knowing my LGBTQ history and why we still need Pride month in 2021.
June 21 was the 100-year anniversary of the Tulsa race massacre. 300 Black people were murdered by an angry White mob because a Black boy was falsely accused of raping a White girl. I'm glad it's getting more recognition. And, the hate and racism that led to that race massacre is still rampant today.
Things are still socially unjust. There's still rampant racism, sexism, homophobia, and transphobia.
Yes, some things are better. And much is still the same. And will stay the same.
Until we change our focus.
When we view our work with a social justice lens, we know that while the celebrations and recognitions are important, they are a piece of a much larger collective effort that is needed to drive impact and affect change.
So let's get to it.
Sharing Pronouns Is One Small Way to Create Safe Spaces
Well, LinkedIn, it took you a while, but you finally officially made a place for members to share their pronouns.
Thank you!
Not sure what pushed you to evolve your awareness and consciousness, but I'm happy you've made it happen.
By offering this function, you are making a difference in the lives of many, many people.
You're showing the world you understand that sharing our pronouns is one small way to create welcoming, safe spaces for people.
People who are transgender. People who are gender nonconforming. People who don't align to the rigid male/female binary.
People who constantly get misgendered, get harassed, get abused, get murdered because of who they are.
You're allowing allies to more easily share their pronouns, which allows them to more easily signal to members of the trans community that they are seen, valued, and heard.
You're creating a virtual world that says it's okay to be who you are.
I'm not sure if any of this thinking was part of the decision, but the fact is that you did it.
For that, I'm grateful. And, I presume, so are many others.
A More Optimal Position to Dismantle Racism
Let's talk about this individual/systemic antiracism dynamic.
First, if we don't recognize that racism is a centuries-old, intentionally embedded systemic and institutional tool meant to indefinitely uphold White supremacy, then we'll never get close to ending it.
And, to think that working with individuals to evolve their consciousness, elevate their awareness, accelerate their fluency is somehow antithetical to contributing to ending systemic racism is not only wrong but problematic.
Not all of us are systems thinkers. Not all of us have a background in organizational development. Not all of us know how to do a pay equity audit. Not all of us have a blueprint for police reform. Not all of us are policy makers or community organizers.
If you do have those skills, please use them. We need your vision and commitment to drive impact and affect change.
If you don’t have those skills (like I don’t) – and your background and motivation is to work with individuals – than you can and should use your skills to work with individuals and support and champion those who are doing systems work.
Just remember that we work with individuals so that – so that! – those individuals are in a more optimal position to contribute to dismantling racist systems and institutions.
Both/and...
Empathy As a Default Disposition
Try this:
Being empathetic as a default disposition. As a way of living, as a way of navigating the world.
Don't reserve empathy for certain people in certain situations when you're in certain moods.
And remember that empathy doesn't mean condoning behaviors that don't deserve condoning. Empathy doesn't mean being nice to people who have done hurtful things.
Always leading with empathy allows us to make the important distinctions around when and how to respond to emerging situations and evolving contexts and unpredictable human behaviors.
Empathy is non-judgmental, which is not the same as making a decision on whether to support someone's actions or behaviors or words.
Empathy requires curiosity, equanimity, reflection, and vulnerability.
Vulnerability is the key thing. I suspect that people who are not empathetic are too afraid to be vulnerable. They aren't comfortable staying present and/or they conflate being empathetic with commitment, and/or they are unwilling to validate the lived experiences of people not like them.
Empathy isn't soft or weak or irrelevant. Conversely, being empathetic is one of the most courageous and empowering and impactful things we can do.
Especially for people with privilege and power and authority.
Try it out. And see how it goes.
Adding to the Dialogue
I get out of the flow and rhythm of writing regularly and it can be difficult to get back in.
The thoughts don't come as easily, as readily, as immediately. The thoughts are there – it's not like they've gone away – it's just that there's other stuff going on.
Like work, and kids, and rest, and book editing, and time away from the computer – as much as it's possible to have time away from the computer.
On one hand, I enjoy the relative break from posting regularly. On the other hand, I miss it. I miss the dialogue, the relevancy, the back and forth, the new learnings, the connections – old and new.
And, I have enough maturity and wisdom to know that LinkedIn is a tool for me to use if and how I choose, not a mandatory, obligatory crutch that I depend on for survival.
May seem obvious, but sometimes I forget that. That my worth is not dependent or related to how and how often I show up on LinkedIn.
That there are other channels for connecting, for driving impact, affecting change.
Anyway, I'm kind of writing out loud here, trying to write myself back into a writing rhythm, back into a flow of social and cultural and political and professional commentary.
Adding to the dialogue Inspiring and being inspired. Challenging and being challenged. Seeing where it takes me. . .
Racism Without Racists
"They say that 3% percent of people
Use 5 to 6% percent of their brain
97% use just 3%
And the rest goes down the drain
I'll never know which one I am
But I'll bet you my last dime
99% think we're 3%
100% of the time"
– Todd Snider
Anytime someone says they're not racist, my first thought is that they're probably racist. Or more precisely, that they regularly do and think and say racist things.
Very few people openly admit to being racist. Unless it's an identity you specifically want to own, there'd be no reason to.
There's also no reason to state that you're not racist. There's a lot to unpack about why, but the main reason is that "I'm not racist" has absolutely no value.
"I'm not racist" involves no commitment, no reflection, no curiosity, no awareness, no collaboration, no nothing.
"I'm not racist" is a meaningless statement. You either do and say and think racist things or you do and say and think antiracist things.
If you're neutral, you're complicit. If you're silent, you're complicit.
Emphasizing your own or others' "non-racism" as a way to prove that systemic racism isn't that bad, or that it only exists here and there, or that it isn't a thing at all is foolish and harmful.
Because there sure is a lot of racism considering how few racists there are.
A White Guy Confronting Racism
Hello my fellow White people!
Me, or anyone else, stating that we live in a White supremacist world is not a personal attack on you as a White person.
If the mention of White supremacy makes you get defensive, if it triggers some sort of feeling, if it makes you argumentative, I invite you to ask yourself why.
I invite you to reflect on why you are so quick to disagree, to counter, to dismiss, to look for examples (i.e., excuses) of why we don't live in a White supremacist world.
I invite you to sit with your uncertainty, to get comfortable with your discomfort, to examine how you contribute to the perpetuity of White supremacy.
I invite you detach from your whiteness, to resist White solidarity with other White people you don't know and probably have little in common with.
I invite you to explore your personal narrative as it relates to the White supremacist system we all live in. I invite to consider ways in which you can change that narrative and begin to write a new antiracist narrative for yourself.
I can't and (usually) won't tell you what to do. You have to want to know who you want to be. Once you have greater clarity on who you want to be, you will have greater clarity on what to do.
So, you up for this challenge?
Sincerely,
A White Guy Confronting Racism
Rewriting the False Narrative of Racial Progress
We like to think of racism and racial progress as a one-way street of goodness and love.
That things used to be really bad, and then they were a little less bad, but now they're not really that bad.
That there used to be a lot of racism, then there was a little less racism, and now there's not much racism, and soon there will be no racism.
That White people used to be really mean, then they were a little less mean, and now they're not really that mean anymore.
That there used to be slavery and lynching and disenfranchisement and blackface and Jim Crow, then we had MLK and things got better, and then we had a Black president and racism was basically over.
That we used to have blatantly racist politicians writing and passing blatantly racist laws, but now we. . .
. . . still have blatantly racist politicians writing and passing blatantly racist laws.
Which doesn't fit the "there used to be a lot racism, but now there's not much racism" narrative.
Because it's a false narrative.
Because every single time in history there has been racial progress, it's been followed by an aggressive, angry, coordinated White supremacist reaction to that racial progress.
Racism used to be smugly overt. It used to be malicious and harmful.
Now it's smugly covert. And malicious and harmful.
Finding the Best Way to Dismantle Racist Systems
There's a lot of discussion on whether antiracism work should focus on systems or individuals.
In my opinion, the answer is yes. It's a both/and.
Systems undoubtedly need to be dismantled. And, individuals make up systems. To dismantle systems the individuals in power need to change and contribute to dismantling the systems.
Here's the other part. Each one of us is intrinsically motivated and driven to make an impact in different ways.
Some of us are driven to make an impact at the societal level. Some of us at the organizational level. Some at the individual level.
Whatever you're driven by, it's relevant. When we try to do – or are asked to do, or are expected to do – work that we aren't motivated by, aren't good at, or don't like, we do mediocre work at best.
I work best with individuals. I am motivated by helping individuals change and improve and contribute more optimally to a more equitable and racially just world.
And, those individuals work at organizations and are part of society. I collaborate with others who are motivated by driving organizational and societal impact, and we each bring our strengths and experiences together in a collective vision.
If you're committed to dismantling racist systems, you will find the best way to dismantle racist systems.
A System of White Supremacy
What happened in Atlanta on March 16 was an act of White supremacy that happened within a system of White supremacy.
A system of White supremacy that has been around since White people decided to call themselves White so they could keep their White supremacy.
A system of White supremacy that breeds and caters to specific acts of White supremacy.
A system of White supremacy that will now attempt to show sympathy and compassion for the victims of White supremacy.
A system of White supremacy that will make a show of responding with carefully crafted statements and messaging.
A system of White supremacy that, however, will be slow in taking any meaningful action, driving any meaningful impact, or affecting any meaningful change.
A system of White supremacy that is too used to existing and operating in a system of White supremacy to dismantle the system of White supremacy.
A system of White supremacy that is made up of millions of individuals who contribute knowingly or unknowingly to the perpetuity of the system of White supremacy.
Millions of individuals who have the ability to be empathetic and compassionate. Who have the ability to take action. Who have the ability to change themselves to help change the system of White supremacy.
But who may or may not have the will.