I Will Not Cancel You

"We in movement must learn to choose life even in conflict, even when seeking accountability, composting the tension and bad behaviors while holding the beating hearts."

– adrienne maree brown

I will not cancel you. No matter how much harm you've done. No matter how hateful your actions and words and views.

I will not cancel you even when I know you are being intentionally provocative. When I know you are lying. When I know that you know that I know that you're lying. Even when those lies lead to real negative and long lasting consequences.

I will not cancel you because it would be too easy to cancel you. Too easy to engage in the same sort of interaction that you engage in. Too easy to get lost in the inhumanity that you are lost in.

I will not cancel you.

And, I will not condone your words and behaviors and views.

I will rebuke you. I will confront you. I will criticize you. I will hold you publicly accountable for what you've done.

But I will not cancel you.

Because I know there are people less experienced than me who are watching me and learning from me and being inspired and motivated by me.

People who may be tempted into thinking that canceling you is the quickest way to achieve justice.

People who may be misled into thinking that canceling you will ever achieve justice.

My Bottle Will Be Thrown Into the Sea

"There is always something enriching in the suffering of a creator who hopes his bottle thrown into the sea will one day reach its destination."

– Alain Mabanckou

Twenty months ago, I was challenged by a coach to write more regularly on LinkedIn. To say everything that I had to say. To say it with conviction and consistency and purpose.

To put myself out there more often, more convincingly, more powerfully.

To be candid, it was not a difficult challenge for me to rise to. I had been writing publicly for nearly ten years at that point. I had been saying what I had been saying for a while.

But I was in a lull. I was in a dip in form. I had lost what momentum I had gained.

So I started writing. Every day. It was fun. It was good. People noticed. People responded. People were interested. People were curious. People were inspired and moved and motivated to think and act and change.

I was driving impact. I was disrupting. Unapologetically. I was emerging and evolving and influencing.

Much of what I wrote made its way into a book. It got organized and edited and polished.

That book will come out in a few months. Once its out I will no longer be in control of how people will respond to its contents.

My bottle will be thrown into the sea. Maybe one day it will reach its destination?

Do You Really Expect Me to Change Who I Am?

"Most White people don't really WANT to know what to do about racism if it will require anything of them that is inconvenient or uncomfortable."

– Layla Saad

"I want to do something about racism, but I don't know what I should do."

"You should explore how your White privilege contributes to the perpetuation of systemic racism."

"How do you know I have White privilege? You don't even know me."

"White privilege isn't an indictment of you as an individual. It's an unearned advantage that has been bestowed on White people for simply being White."

"I don't believe that. I grew up poor. I worked hard. I've earned what I've got." 

"I'm sure you do work hard. Poor White people still have White privilege—especially since they have been indoctrinated over the centuries to side with wealthy White people because of their shared whiteness instead of with Black people with whom they share common economic and social concerns."

"I'm not siding with anyone. Dr. King said we should treat everyone equally."

"There's a difference between equality and equity."

"Stop badgering me about this. I'm a good person. You're making feel bad about myself for being White."

"You're showing your White privilege right now."

"You're being mean. That's unfair. Do you really expect me to change who I am?"

Holding You Accountable to Your Commitments

Dear White people who made commitments to racial justice in the spring and summer of 2020 after the murders of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery, and others:

I'm here fifteen months later to hold you accountable to your commitments.

Have you done what you said you were going to do? Have you changed how you act, how you think, how you speak, how you treat people?

Have you evolved your consciousness? Have you developed your racial fluency? Have you educated yourself?

Have you fundamentally changed who you are?

Because if you're like most White people, who you were in the fight for racial justice before the spring and summer of 2020 wasn't good enough.

Your inaction, ignorance, "neutrality," and privilege were actively harming Black people and other people of color.

Your old boys' networks, your abuses of power, your invulnerability, your lack of courage and curiosity, your performative empathy and compassion were contributing to the perpetuation of systemic racism and White supremacy.

So, fifteen months later, are you showing up differently? Now that you know better, are you doing better? Are you honoring your commitments?

Are you engaging with Black humanity?

Or are you still upholding the status quo you've been upholding for hundreds of years?

Reverse Racism Does Not Exist

"My brother was shot by a Black dude in Richmond when we were growing up."

"I went to high school with mostly Latino kids in Texas. They called me 'guera' because I was White."

"Throughout my childhood I was exclusively bullied by Black and Muslim kids, who always seemed to own the schoolyard."

These are examples offered this week as evidence that White people are victims of racism too.

I am committed to validating any given person's lived experience as true.

That said, individual acts of prejudice, bullying, discrimination, hatred, othering, marginalization, shooting, teasing, or any other less-than-ideal approach to interacting with other human beings does not prove that there is "reverse racism."

Racism is about power.

Racism is a system intentionally invented and rigorously maintained to put so-called White people on top and everybody else beneath them—thus the term "White supremacy."

Racism is more than individual acts of violence and discrimination—no matter how harmful, hurtful, or frequent they may be.

Until any non-White racial group has the power to consistently create and sustain laws, regulations, policies, and social norms, reverse racism does not and will not exist.

What does exist is the individual's ability to see a bigger system beyond their individual experiences.

I'm Not Interested in Your White Solidarity

Oh, I see, because I’m White and you’re White, we're basically the same.

That even though we've just met, because we're both White we share the same views.

That I too hold outdated perspectives about race.

That because you don't know what the fuck you're talking about means that I don't know what the fuck I'm talking about either.

That because you think it's okay to say and think and do racist things I also think it's okay to say and think and do racist things.

That because you never read books by and about Black people, listen to podcasts hosted by and featuring Black people, or follow Black people on social media, that I too am unfamiliar, uninterested, and uninvested in the vast dynamism of the Black experience.

That because you think your whiteness is "normal" I think my whiteness is "normal" too.

That we have some sort of secret bond, some sort of innate connection, some sort of magical unspoken trust.

That because we're both White I would automatically choose to listen to you, side with you, believe you, support you, instead of people who are not White.

That because you have chosen to cling to White supremacy I have chosen to cling to White supremacy too.

I invite you to reconsider your assumptions and try again.

Because I'm not interested in your White solidarity.

Let's Play Devil's Advocate

Let's just play devil's advocate for a minute...

For argument's sake, let's just say the racism Black people say they experience actually is racism. 

And perhaps we could say that Europeans created whiteness centuries ago to justify the subjugation, oppression, and enslavement of Black people.

And perhaps we could just say—again, for argument's sake—that enslaved Black people didn't really like being enslaved.

I mean, for argument's sake. Stick with me—if you can.

And if we say that Black people didn't really like being enslaved, and in fact found it the most despicable dehumanizing existence imaginable, and had to endure it for hundreds of years, could we say, that maybe, just maybe, they'd still be kind of pissed off about that?

Especially if we say—again, just for argument's sake—that slavery was followed by the Black Codes and the KKK and Jim Crow and lynching and disenfranchisement and redlining and over-policing and the war on drugs and White supremacy and White rage and racist laws and racist policies and racist systems and continued marginalization, most of which is still happening today.

So, if we said all that was true—still playing devil's advocate here—could we maybe, just maybe, believe a Black person when they said they experienced racism?

Or is that too much of a stretch?

I'm Not Interested in Being Nice

"I need a love that is troubled by injustice."

– Austin Channing Brown

I'm not interested in being nice.

I'm interested in justice. I'm interested in equity. I'm interested in change. I'm interested in power inversion.

I'm not interested in being nice.

I'm interested in love. I'm interested in empathy. I'm interested in compassion. I'm interested in humanity.

I'm not interested in being nice.

I'm interested in growth. I'm interested in evolution of consciousness. I'm interested in accelerating awareness. I'm interested in elevating fluency.

I'm not interested in being nice.

I'm interested in dismantling White supremacy. I'm interested in disrupting the status quo. I'm interested in subverting systemic racism. I'm interested in true equality.

I'm not interested in being nice.

I'm interested in liberation. I'm interested in amplifying marginalized perspectives. I'm interested in underrepresented viewpoints. I'm interested in the voices of the voiceless.

I'm not interested in your niceness. I'm not interested in your tone policing. I'm not interested in your privileged narrative. I'm not interested in your guilt.

I'm interested in your commitment.

I'm interested in your accountability.

I'm interested in you being troubled by injustice.

I'm interested in you being better.

Demand More. Be More.

Martin Luther King Jr. and Rosa Parks and Malcolm X and Nelson Mandela and Gandhi and Frederick Douglas and Sojourner Truth and Harriet Tubman and other people of color you've probably heard of and who fought for truth and justice and equity and equality are all great and you should continue to praise them and learn from them.

And. 

Continue to look for inspiration and motivation beyond the people you know of, the people you've heard of, the people who get the most recognition, the people who are regularly praised as champions for social justice.

Expand your understanding of who to root for, who to learn from, whose voices to amplify.

Expand the potential for inspiration beyond political figures and religious figures and business leaders and community activists.

Look to any and all people on the downside of power who fought the power, who challenged the power, who disrupted the power, who refused to let the powerful continue the disempowerment of the less powerful.

Perhaps these people are musicians like Fela Kuti or writers like Sandra Cisneros or comedians like Dick Gregory or hip-hop journalists like Davey D or poets like Chrystos.

Don't let the narrative of the privileged majority limit which minoritized voices you hear.

Demand more. Expect More. Learn more. Change more. Be more.

The Explanatory Comma

On Code Switch yesterday, they were debating how much context to give when talking about racism. Is it better to explain every reference, or just ask people to Google?

They said that having to constantly use the explanatory comma, an inserted clause that explains something you've just mentioned, disrupts the flow.

It got me to thinking:

Does White Supremacy, the system that sees White people as superior and everyone else as inferior, really need to be broken down?

Do we really have to repeatedly explain how systemic racism, the systems that create and maintain racial inequality in nearly every facet of life for people of color, is harmful and needs to be dismantled.

Do ignorant White people, people from European descent who began calling themselves White so they could be superior to people with darker skin, really deserve to be catered to like this?

Shouldn't White people use their White privilege, unearned advantages White people have because they're White, to do their own work and figure sh*t out on their own?

Shouldn't White people remove the burden of education, the expectation that people of color will tutor them on racism, and educate themselves?

Shouldn't White people be better, a more excellent or effective type or quality, and fix the problem they created?

Are You Asking the Right Question?

White people, stop asking "what should I do?" to fight racial injustice. Start asking "Who do I want to be?"

Go about answering that question until you figure it out. That might take minutes or hours or days or weeks or months or years or longer.

However long it takes, commit to figuring it out. Commit to embodying immovable values and principles that guide your thinking and action and decision making.

Identify what you believe in, what you will not stand for, what behaviors you will and will not tolerate—from yourself and others.

Articulate to the world what is and is not okay for you. Proclaim it with confidence. Declare it with conviction. Shout it to anyone and everyone, whether they are listening or not.

Be consistent and constant. Establish your views, your perspectives, your belief system. Become known for what you care about. Become unapologetic. Become defiant.

Absorb doubt. Absorb criticism. Absorb attacks. Absorb dismissal. Absorb character assassination.

Don't waffle. Don't hide. Don't run away. Don't retreat. Don't devolve into your comfortable habits of privilege.

Use your power for good. Use your social capital to uplift. Use your voice to amplify the unamplified.

Commit to becoming who you are meant to be. Then you'll have no problem knowing "what to do."

Evolving My Consciousness to Fight for Equity and Social Justice

I've been asked where I'm from, but I've never been asked where I'm really from.

I stole candy bars from a convenience store when I was a kid, but I was never assumed to have stolen anything by just being in a store.

After I've given a keynote or a presentation I've been told I spoke well, but never with a tone of surprise.

I've not gotten an initial interview for a position that I was qualified for, but not because of the name on my resume.

I've been referred to as "the White guy" before, but not with any sort of disdain or dismissiveness.

I've lost my temper, swore in public, been curt with servers and telemarketers, but I've never been accused of being the angry White guy.

I've had my name mispronounced, but never because it was "too foreign sounding."

I've been pulled over by the police for minor traffic violations, but I've never been harassed or abused by an officer.

I've been hired because I was the best person for the job, but I've never been seen as the "diversity hire."

I've been a privileged White dude all my life, and I can't say I've never taken advantage of that privilege for my own personal benefit.

What I can say is that I recognize my privilege, and I am continually evolving my consciousness to use my privilege to fight for equity and social justice.

How about you?

Until There's No More Inequity and Injustice

TRIGGER WARNING: THIS POST REFERENCES ATTEMPTED SUICIDE.

Why does a cisgender, straight, White guy like me care so much about equity and social justice?

Imagine you're an eighteen-year-old freshman in college and you've just tried to commit suicide by slashing your wrist.

It didn't work, but you did get kicked out school for repeatedly hitting on your roommate. Yes, your male roommate. Yes, you're male too.

You knew you weren't supposed to do that. You knew your roommate wasn't interested in that. You knew that something bad would happen.

And as you're in the hospital recovering, your mind goes back to the first time you tried to commit suicide when you were thirteen.

When you realized that you liked boys and not girls. When you knew you couldn't tell anyone. When you knew that you could be jailed or committed or killed for telling anyone, let alone acting on your feelings.

This was 1962. The college incident was 1966.

The marriage to the woman was 1971.

The kid was born in 1973—the same year homosexuality was depathologized.

The good news is that kid grew up, chose to learn about and embrace and tell your story.

Chose to learn about and embrace and tell his story too.

Decided unapologetically to fight for equity and social justice.

Until there's no more inequity and injustice.

Book Writing Is a Collaborative Effort

I discovered and embraced years ago that I'm a collaborative learner. While I'm capable of doing my own thing, I prefer working with others to create something together.

To thought partner with others. To inspire and be inspired by others. To challenge and be challenged by others. To uplift and be uplifted by others.

As I've been working on my book for the last eight months, I've come to deeply appreciate that writing a book—what may seem like a very solo endeavor—is one of the most collaborative things I've ever done. 

This weekend, my son and I started recording a few episodes of my upcoming podcast. I'm the creator; he's the producer. I could do it solo, but it's way better to work with him, leverage his expertise, and feed off each other's creative energy.

I've experienced similar highs of creative thriving with my book editor, my book designer, my Kajabi designer, my publisher, my early draft readers, my testimonial readers, my podcast tour person, and so many others who've played a role in this book project.

Sure, I wrote the book. Sure, they're my ideas (borrowed from and influenced by many others.) Sure, my name's on the cover.

And, as Obama says, "[I] didn't build that. Somebody else made it happen."

A lot of somebody elses. All of whom have my deepest gratitude.

None of That Creates Equity and Social Justice

I actually do have a lot of Black and Asian and Latino friends.

I actually do have a Black doctor.

I actually do have an Asian dentist.

I do listen to music by Black musicians—reggae, jazz, hi-life, roots blues.

I do enjoy food from Ethiopia, Nigeria, Burma, Japan.

I do read books by and about Black, Asian, Latino, and Native American people.

I do listen to Code Switch and other podcasts that feature Black and other underrepresented voices.

But none of that creates equity and social justice.

What does help create equity and social justice is:

Believing the lived experiences of Black people and other people of color.

Understanding that systemic racism is an oppressive force that upholds the fallacy of White supremacy.

Recognizing how White people benefit from that system.

Not being attached to my whiteness.

Acknowledging my privilege.

Using my power and influence and social capital to disrupt the status quo.

Rejecting narratives of the privileged majority.

Refusing to coddle in the arms of "people like me."

Speaking up and speaking out about inequity and injustice.

Being an unapologetic accomplice and co-conspirator for equity and justice.

Accepting that I'm very imperfect and make mistakes all the time.

Challenging other White people to do all these things and more.

Embrace Humanity—All of It, All the Time

Here are a few pointers for those who are struggling to be an effective ally.

1. Don't tell people (including yourself) that you're an ally. You don't decide if you're an ally or not, other people do. Show don't tell.

2. Be more than an ally. Be an accomplice. Be a co-conspirator. Notice the unjust rules and laws and regulations that are creating barriers to opportunities, that are limiting access, that are creating and sustaining inequity. Smash that sh*t to pieces, not because you're a rebel, but because you believe in civil disobedience.

3. Don't strive for, expect, or demand recognition for your efforts. You don't get a pin or a cookie or a ribbon. And, really, who wants that shit anyways—for anything!

4. Learn about and then embody social justice principles—agency, liberation, equity, participation, human rights, dignity, regard.

5. Accept, understand, and embrace that the narrative of the privileged majority will always, always, always be a marginalizing and oppressive force, even when—especially when—it is not being done with malicious intent.

6. Don't take things personally. Don't make it about whether you're "good" or "bad." Do the work because you are called to do the work. Do the work because it's the right thing to do.

7. Embrace humanity—all of it, all the time!

Believe People

I have a simple suggestion for people who say they care about social justice, equity, and inclusion, but who seem to have a difficult time demonstrating it.

Believe people.

Believe people who are on the downside of power.

Believe people who are not part of a dominant group.

Believe narratives that doesn't align with the narratives of the privileged majority.

Believe people's stories.

Believe people's experiences.

Believe people when they describe their lived realities.

Don't interrupt them. Don't disrupt them. Don't gaslight them. Don't "at least. . ." them. Don't silver lining them.

Don't discount someone's reality because it's different than your reality.

Don't assume that your norm is the norm.

Don't rely on your limited worldview and perspective to make inaccurate conclusions and come up with unhelpful or harmful "solutions."

Don't assume when someone tells you about their hardship that they are playing the race card or gaming the system or exaggerating or making shit up or looking for pity or wanting your sympathy or flat-out lying.

Lead with curiosity. Lead with empathy. Lead with non-judgment. Start conversations by listening. Be humble. Be present. Be compassionate.

Challenge your assumptions. Change your belief system. Interrupt your thought patterns.

Disrupt the status quo.

Writing About Writing About Writing

When I don't write for a while, I sometimes think it's because I've run out of things to say.

But rarely is that the case. What really happens is that other obligations make it difficult to find time to think of what to say in a compelling, relevant manner.

Because there's more than just the five minutes it takes to write these posts. It's the unquantifiable amount of time it takes to let ideas germinate, to craft a powerful way to say what I want to say, and write things that I can be okay having my name attached to.

The very first time I got paid consistently for writing was in 2011 when I was transitioning out of teaching. It was a new site called GoodBlogs.

The way it worked was you wrote a post each day about anything you wanted and if people liked what you wrote, they gave it a like.

If you had the most likes at the end of the day, you got $20. For twenty straight days, I wrote stream of consciousness about writing stream of consciousness writing. I earned $400.

I learned that good writing is good writing even if that good writing is about writing about good writing being about good writing.

Ever since, I've used public spaces like this as an online journal to write out loud what's on my mind.

I trust you're okay with that.

And, no, you don't have to pay me.

Why Mindfulness Is Important

Here's an example of mindfulness in action.

My father-in-law is watching the Olympics. "Hey, Jared, what game is this?"

I look at the TV. There's a basketball-size court with a field hockey-size goal at each end. Women are passing a ball with their hands.

"It looks like handball."

"That's not handball. Handball's when you throw a ball against a wall. I played it as a kid."

"I played handball as a kid, too. This is also handball."

He pushes on with the belief that the game he played as a kid and the game on TV could not possibly have the same name.

Here's the mindfulness takeaway:

While I was *invested* in answering his inquiry to the best of my knowledge, I was not *attached* to him accepting my answer. In other words, whether he accepted my answer was of no importance to me.

And that's the other takeaway:

I suspect his pursuit of holding on to his belief was due to habitual stubbornness, and not any genuine investment in knowing what the game is called.

Seems harmless, yes?

But what about the countless examples of people not examining their belief systems around race and gender and sexual orientation and. . . that result in ongoing harm, marginalization, oppression, and death to others?

Same attachment. Greater consequences.

That’s why mindfulness is important.

Fight the Power

"Instant judgment and punishment are practices of power over others. It's what those with power do to those who can't stop them, who can't demand justice. This injustice of power is practiced at an individual and collective level."

– adrienne maree brown

Every single relationship in the history of humanity is defined in some large or small way by a power dynamic. There is always a power imbalance.

Some entity (person, group, organization, country, etc.) always has more authority, more influence, more strength, more status, more money, more seniority, more tenure, more social acceptance, more privilege, more access, more autonomy, more agency, more opportunity than another entity.

This will never change.

But those of us who are committed to fighting for equity recognize that the inequitable distribution of power and the failure of those on the upside of power to use their power for good is the primary factor in the perpetuity of inequity.

We recognize that the powerful depend on the powerlessness of the people on the downside of power to uphold the status quo.

We recognize that that's how colonialism and racism and capitalism and sexism and ableism and classism and. . .are sustained.

And we recognize that that shit is fucked up. 

And will continue to be so unless we fight the power for the long haul.