Have you ever said any of the following: “I don’t see color.” “We are all the same.” “I don’t care if a person is white, black, purple, or whatever.” They are playing ‘the race card’.” Considering this passage what might you say next time?
I’m sure I have said any of those in the past, I just don’t remember specific moments.
What I do remember is always having strong black women in my life- teachers, neighbors, best friends- and always being educated by them about race issues.
I remember my sixth grade teacher, Mrs Roskos, getting so sick and tired of hearing slurs hurled up and down the hallways during passing periods that she spent an entire week yelling at us and teaching us “Bigotry begets bigotry” and teaching us Spanish (as the Mexican kids were the ones most often targeted in the school)
I’ve always grown up somewhat oblivious to slurs because I was just never exposed to them. I remember in fifth grade going to school and announcing very proudly that my best-friend was “colored”. She was quick to be offended and her mom thankfully sat down with me after school to explain why that word isn’t used anymore. Luckily he mom didn’t think I meant it in a bad way.
I’ve always been able to have open and honest conversations with my good friends if something came up that I didn’t understand and I’m very thankful for their patience in teaching me.
I’ve never had a negative reaction to BLM, Rodney King Riots, etc, because I always had a safe black home I could run to that taught me what was going on through their eyes.
If I ever said “I don’t see color” it was what was accepted at the time as an understanding of “I’m not racist” and was taught to me by my black friends.
But of course as the world changes so does the need to update our understanding.
When you say I don’t see color, you are erasing the very different lived experiences of people who are not white. And that is a micro-aggression often used towards non-white people: the erasure of their history and experiences.
I’ve always been lucky to be the woke in my family and was always quick to call out racism. Such as when my mom started saying shit like Ferguson wouldn’t have happened if those thugs knew their place and let her know that thug is the modern day equivalent of the N word.
She didn’t like being called out.
And I didn’t give a shit.
I’m lucky that I’ve always known about my privilege and that I’ve taken the time to be educated about what I don’t know.
Have I said racist shit? Sure, I don’t know a white person who hasn’t.
Have I learned from it?
Absolutely.
I remember I was held up at gun point by a black man when I was 15. My parents were perfectly happy to allow me to suffer from PTSD and live my entire life fearing every black man from then on. I’m the one who insisted on therapy because I knew every black student at my school had nothing to do with the guy who shoved a gun in my face 100 miles away, and I refused to allow myself to be scared to walk down the hallways at my school.
I’ve often wondered how exactly my bigoted racist family managed to raise me, but I’m glad I never let them influence me that much.
Again, please don’t read this post as “I’m so good” I’ve also said racist shit. I’m just lucky enough that I was educated and got past it.
Trovando La Mia Voce 