Standing up for what is right

The tragic murders of George Floyd, Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, and the events of the last few weeks have brought to the world's attention that racism is alive and well, and deadly.  The grief that each of their families must be going through is heartbreaking.  Each one of us has a responsibility to stand up and fight against racism in our own communities.

I've been reading a lot of accounts from black people who are sharing their life experiences and feelings.  It has really made me reflect on the times in my life when I could have stood up to say something to combat racism, but didn't.  I grew up in a small Midwestern town where there were just two black families that I knew of at the time. I ended up being best friends with the daughter in one of those families, and she was the Maid of Honor at my wedding.

We first met in first grade, and I can honestly say at that time, I didn't know that there was any difference between us.  All I knew was that she had a doll whose hair could grow longer if you pushed its belly button, and I had a different version of that same doll, and we wanted to play with our dolls together.  After getting together with her after school once, I remember hearing my parents talking after they thought that I was asleep.  They were talking about whether or not it would be a good thing for us to be friends because they thought that she would be treated differently because she was black, and whether or not that treatment would extend to me if I was her friend.  This was around 1970.  Honest to God, that was the first time that I had even thought about her skin color.  To me at that age, I didn't perceive that it was any different than someone having different hair or eye color.  But, my parents thought highly of her and her family, and, thankfully, supported our friendship.

We (my friend and I) didn't talk about race then.  I look back, and I am certain that I could have been a better friend and more in tune with subtle or more overt racism that was certainly occurring towards her during that time.  I was too self-absorbed to even contemplate that she and her family had to face racism. 

The first time that I really remember being in a situation where racism was blatant, was when I was in graduate school in Houston in 1985.  A group of fellow graduate students and I were eating at a restaurant, and a mixed race couple sat down at a table next to us.  One of the other graduate students asked that we move to a different table, because she couldn't eat next to "that sin against God".  I was dumbfounded, and didn't say anything, and moved along with the group to a different table.  Why didn't I speak up?  I don't know, but I wish that I had. 

I went about my life- getting married, having 3 daughters, making a living, and being with my parents as they got older and eventually passed away.  I now live in a medium-sized racially diverse university community.    I have worked for the last 9 years in two elementary schools that are minority majority, as a mentor coordinator.  Being in these schools daily has opened my eyes up to the economic and opportunity injustices that exist.   I have matched community members with students who need an extra adult in their lives, and sometimes those matches are cross-racial.  I've felt proud of being part of a community program that promotes communication and understanding between generations and between races.  I also have ran an after school sewing club for 8 years, sharing my love of sewing with mostly minority students.  Supplies were provided so that income would not limit any student that wanted to be a part of it.

My point in telling you all of this- I was not blind, and I was intentionally doing things that I thought were helpful, but as I examine my actions, I can see that I was doing things that I was comfortable with.  I was not pushed out of my comfort zone.

Probably the most personal experience that I have had relating to race, was when I became a mentor to a young black girl when she was 10 years old through our school based mentoring program.  She has just turned 18, so we've been meeting for 8 years.  I'm supposed to be a trusted guide for her, but the experience has been an education for me as well.  We talk about race and police violence a lot. The men and boys in her family have been targeted by law enforcement, and she doesn't trust the police.  At one point after we had been meeting about 5 years, she admitted to me that she didn't like me at first because I was white- which hurt.  But now, she says that I am like a Mom to her, and I feel that she is like a daughter to me, so we've made a lot of progress.  When she began high school, we started going out to eat during her lunch period.  I have been taken aback at how differently she has been treated in my presence by both the staffs and customers of local restaurants.  One time, we were going to a diner, and the restaurant was pretty empty.  The white waitress wanted to seat us at a table in the back near the kitchen. Looking around the empty restaurant, I didn't see why we should be seated at the worst table in the room, and I requested that we be seated in a window booth, and she reluctantly let us sit at a window booth.  After we were seated, the waitress spoke only to me, completely ignoring my mentee, as if she was angry with her.  My mentee said "I don't like her", and I agreed with something like "Yeah, she's a pretty bad waitress.".  It was clear as day that racism was at play, but I didn't call it by name.  That would have been uncomfortable.

Another time, we were at an ice cream parlor, and my mentee had placed her order, and then changed her mind immediately and asked that her order be adjusted.  The white cashier told her it was too late- she couldn't change it.  I knew that, of course, she could have changed the order!  And I didn't say anything.  I didn't want to cause a scene, thinking that it really wasn't a big deal.  But it was about more than ice cream- it was a power play with the cashier making herself feel more important and getting away with it.  Now, I wish I had made a big deal out of it, even though that would have been uncomfortable.  There is no way that the cashier would have treated me the same way had I been the one that changed my mind.

Most recently, we were at another fast food restaurant where most of the staff was black, but most of the customers where white.  After we left, my mentee said, "I don't want to go back there- that place is racist."  I said, "What do you mean- all of the employees are black?"  She said, "I'm not talking about them, I'm talking about the customers.  I didn't like how they were looking at me."   I responded by saying, "They were just looking at you because you are so pretty."  She said, "No, that's not it.  I know what those kind of looks feel like, and this felt different".  I should have acknowledged her feelings, and encouraged her to talk about how that kind of situation makes her feel.  Why didn't I?  I knew that she was right.  Was I embarrassed by my own race? Admitting that would have been uncomfortable.

We haven't had lunch together since Covid 19 made eating at restaurants impossible.  But, when we start meeting again, (and I can't wait to do so),  I am definitely going to be more aware, and stand up for what is right, no matter how uncomfortable it makes me.  Silence is not an option.  The senseless deaths of so many black citizens has got to stop. The fact that black Americans in 2020 live in daily fear of the people that are supposed to protect us has got to change.  The insidious injustices like my mentee has experienced turn into deadly injustices if left unchecked.

Of course, we need to be doing more than just speaking up at those moments like I've described.  We need to understand how we got here by listening and learning, and working together to implement change.  Melanie at Following the Thread just posted an Anti Racism Reading List.

I read and admire so many black sewing bloggers, and this last week, upon reading their feelings, I am learning so much about them, their lives, and their hopes and dreams for our society.   Thank you for sharing your opinions and experiences. Here are just a few black bloggers that I have learned from if you haven't already seen their posts regarding this topic:

Dressmaking Debacles
Sew Filled to the Brim
Erica Bunker
Miss Celie's Pants

With compassion,

Ann