These Times They Are Changing
Like so many of us, I’m struggling with what to say/do as I have been witnessing the social and racial unrest in my country, and indeed the world. I generally stay away from politics and most current events in my blog because I’m looking for the universal experience of being human, of being a creative and a searcher of authenticity.
But these times call for us to be counted, to stand with our values and beliefs, in solidarity with those who have been persecuted for centuries.
As a white female who has never had to face the fear and discrimination of being a person of color, I’m aghast at not just our governments response to protests, but my own complicity.
Born in 1960, I grew up in suburban Boston, in a mostly white, mostly liberal small town. My kindergarten teacher was a lovely black woman who I remember fondly, although she would be the only person of color in all my years of schooling. I remember we had black dolls as well as white dolls to play with, which was not typical. Her son was in my class, and one of the few black kids I knew in my early years.
The civil rights movement erupted in the late 60’s, but I was only 8 years old so much of it passed over my head at the time. My parents were liberal democrats and there was no question in our household that there should be equality for all races, although it wasn’t something we discussed very much.
As a teenager back in the 70’s the white suburbs outside of Boston became the ground for the controversial social/educational experiment simply known as “bussing”. The idea was to desegregate schools by bussing the inner city black and latino kids out to the white suburbs to get a “better” education.
But many felt it was an attempt to acculturate people of color, taking them out of their own communities to integrate better into white culture. Critics felt they were negating the black culture, forcing kids to assimilate in order to have more “opportunities”. This may or may not have been successful.
By that time I was in high school, and because of bussing, suddenly we were a much more diverse population. I don’t remember much overt strife between us students - maybe the occasional skirmish, but nothing beyond the push/shove of “boys being boys”.
I had the opportunity to interact with the black guys who were from the city, because many of them were athletes and I happened to be a cheerleader (don’t judge me!). And my memories of those interactions were without exception very positive and a few became friends that I still think of with affection.
But the point I am making now, as I reflect back, is that I never really considered what those kids were going through - to be yanked out of their communities, trying to find their way in a different climate that wasn’t interested in who they really were.
I was oblivious to their challenges, and I never cared to reach out and offer any support to those who, say, didn’t have sports to use as a way to connect. I regret this lost opportunity to have showed compassion and been a positive bridge for those kids who were often marginalized.
Throughout my 20’s I lived in New York City (Manhattan and Brooklyn) and London, and my world was hugely diverse with friends of many racial and ethnic backgrounds. I loved taking the subway out to my apartment in Brooklyn (before it was gentrified) where I was often the only white person on the train. I felt part of a bigger world, a rich tapestry of differences, and I felt the unity of our common humanity.
One of the main reasons why I love to travel this great wide world is to interact and witness the gorgeous diversity of peoples and cultures around the planet. I’m turned on by the variety of faces, landscapes, languages, food, art, music. I travel because I’m bored by the same same. I’m restless with the status quo.
And yet, for almost 30 years now, I have lived in Boulder CO, which is hardly a bastion of diversity. We all acknowledge that truth and often complain about the Boulder Bubble and the lack of friends we have of color. I am frustrated by the lack of social opportunities to interact and yet have not done enough to reach out and change that.
So my pledge, going forward, is to do the following:
To always make my voice heard for racial equality and justice - voting in the change, signing petitions, donating to organizations that are working to promote justice such as the NAACP legal fund and Black Lives Matter movement.
Seek out businesses owned and run by people of color. Support their efforts with my dollars.
To find ways of connecting with those in my community that are of different cultures and backgrounds.
To listen and learn about the experiences of non-whites through their own language of art, music, books and film. The creative arts is one of the most honest and authentic avenues of cross cultural communication, and I’m committed to whole heartedly listening to the expressions of artists of color that I might be inspired by their visions and strength.
These are all small steps but as part of a bigger movement have tremendous power. I hope you will join me.