My Skin Isn’t Welcome Where I’m From

Song of the week: We The People…. ~ A Tribe Called Quest

 It’s time to talk about where I grew up.  

Recently one of the local school boards passed a resolution to embrace anti-racist practices, and to honor and embrace diversity.  To no one’s surprise, but to many folks' disappointment, several community members are fighting the resolution, trying to sue the school district, and doing it all in the name of the “safety” of their children.

Let’s talk about safety.

A few years back, my therapist suggested that I have PTSD.  She didn’t give it to me as an official diagnosis, but it did open us up to new conversations about my childhood, about the way I continued to process my anxiety and depression, and also to understand why trips to my hometown always resulted in a massive depressive episode.  Things weren’t great at home growing up, but that wasn’t the primary trigger; it was an entire childhood of racism and discrimination.

When deciding how to write this, I was thinking about listing all the terrible things.  But much like I said when discussing Allie’s diagnosis, that’s not what I want to talk about.  It hurts to rehash this, y’all.  I’m tired of explaining what racism looked and felt like.  I’m tired of trying to convince folks that my experiences are real.  It’s trauma porn.  Why do you want to know about how my 6th grade teacher tried to fail me?  Or how people didn’t believe that my white parents or siblings were my family, including school officials?  That everyone in my hometown thought I had only gotten into a top university to play Division I sports?  That I was conditioned to lower my voice, be excessively polite, and make myself as small as possible walking into a store? Why do you need evidence?

If you feel like this is directed at you, you’re right.  If you are feeling targeted right now, that means you’re part of the problem.  I don’t care if your feelings are hurt.  You are not safe for people of color, and I will not prioritize your feelings over the physical and emotional safety of myself and those I love.  

What I do ask is that you pause and reflect.  Why are you so angry?  Really?

You are not being accused of being racist.  In fact, this shit ain’t got nothing to do with you.  You, your whiteness, your lived experience, is NOT universal and is NOT the center of the universe.  Reacting to this resolution with hostility is selfish and self-centered.  You are living in denial, and it is harmful. THAT is what the school board is trying to address.

Think of it this way:  You teach your children that if they are doing something that is hurting their sibling or friend, they need to stop.  It doesn’t matter if your child isn’t being hurt. It doesn't matter if they didn’t mean to hurt their friend.  And it certainly doesn’t matter if they are having fun and don’t want to stop: you tell - and teach - your child that this behavior is unacceptable. Y’all are the child. I am the sibling or friend. I am telling you it hurts and I am asking you to stop.  

When I tell white people where I grew up, they almost always respond with “Oh, what a beautiful place!”  When I tell folks of color, they almost always respond by sucking their teeth, grimacing, and saying “How was that?”  I will never move back to my hometown.  If I have children, I would never choose to actively put my child in harm's way, and therefore could never move them to that area.  

My sisters and I have been talking about drawing strong boundaries, so let me draw one here: If you call yourself my family or friend or community, and you disagree with this and/or the school board’s resolution, you are not my family any more.  You are demonstrating that you would rather I be targeted and harmed than to learn more about yourself, and I am not willing to put myself in harm's way to accommodate blood or marriage.  That's not what family is for.  

If you are my white family/friends/community and you want to demonstrate that you love me and you have my back, I challenge you to share this.  You can tell the people you piss off that it’s not a political act - it’s an act of love.