I make up the white supremacy. I say this not proudly, but as a matter of fact. I’m a white male. My “people” run this country, and they do it in the worst way. Don’t believe me? Turn on the news. Open Facebook. Tumblr. I grew up with a fairly comfortable life, but no matter what happened with my family, I was privileged from the moment I was born at 9:24pm on April 1st, 1986. I immediately had more opportunities, more admiration, more respect, more everything and anything than whatever black baby was born that same day in that same hospital. White privilege.
If it’s not of white European descent, it’s not as good. Women, art, music…it all takes the back seat. And Jesus Christ? He didn’t have Kurt Cobain blonde hair and blue eyes. We can’t have Jesus, Lord and Savior looking like, well, a black man…his hair like “wool” according to the Bible. I’ve been to petting zoos. Sheep’s wool is not long and stringy. We disregard whatever beauty, whatever knowledge, whatever concept is presented to us because it’s not white like us. Adaptations of black characters from books and history translate into film and TV shows as white. Go watch any movie about Jesus. Nobody wants to see a black Jesus, because it’s not as good.
This Charleston shooting I think is the final straw for me. I have seen the deaths of a seemingly infinite (and still climbing) number of black men and women being executed—and I use executed as the appropriate word—by law enforcement and your average white Joe feeling like he has the right to gun down a wandering black man who has a hoodie on. But this Charleston shooting is different because it was in a church. I’m not saying Eric Garner or Freddie Gray’s death were less of an impact, I’m saying this took place in a church. A holy place. A refuge. A place to pray and be together, where the world doesn’t scoff at you for having more melanin in your skin.
Step one in any sort of recovery or rehabilitation process is admittance to having a problem. The problem with our country is white people. That’s step one. We, I, am the problem. I have no doubt I have been picked over a more or equally qualified black person for a job, school, or just an overall kindness out in public. Something as simple as a fellow white person holding the door open for me, but perhaps not making the extra effort for a black person. And the problem is that it’s not always intentional. We are all raised in this country, under a white supremacy, and we are all programmed this way to think it. We need to reprogram.
I write this because I read a horrible comment in an online news article about the shooting by a black male, who said, “Why couldn’t they all have been white folks?” It was horrible because first, the fact that this man felt in his heart that the tragedy would’ve stung him less if the dead people were white; but second, because I kind of agreed with him. I used to believe that education and love and respect were keys to ending this shit between people of all colors. In 4th grade I did a report on Martin Luther King, Jr. and I illustrated a photo of a black man who was shot and left bleeding on the side of a highway. In my 4th grade mind, this was all over. Black people were not treated this way anymore, it was in the history books. Trayvon Martin. Mike Brown.
My heart goes out to the victims of all “my people’s” doing. Yes, there is black on white crime, there is black on black, white on white…but the people who say this very thing are part of the problem; by justifying the actions. And who is the problem again? (All together now)…white people. I suppose I wrote this because I was upset. I have been for a long time. I’m tired like anyone else who has a heart and soul and recognizes the problem. I’m watching all this happen. In 2015. I’ve seen Obama give the same damn “We need to love each other, this is a tragic event for history” speech at least 10 times now. It’s getting old. He’s right, but he’s not supposed to give these speeches—we are supposed to do better.
I wish I knew the solution to all of this that’s been going on. I only know the problem. Charleston will be in the papers for a few weeks, then once this “mentally unstable” shooter is tried, it’ll be all over the news again, but then he’ll go to jail and rot. Then it’ll be in the history books. Like Oscar Grant. Sharonda Coleman-Singleton. History, right? Then we’re back to reposting puppies slipping on hardwood floors and cats wearing socks. I urge you white people to examine yourself. Understand how your privilege affects the lives of others. And how you use this privilege. I suppose this little essay will create some dissonance and more division of course, but that’s expected.
It could be so simple to say be kind to each other. Love each other. But it’s almost too simple. We have to analyze everything. “Well, what’s love?” If we, white people, can have as much empathy for the shooting victims of Charleston and the countless others as much as we do for a character on Game of Thrones dying, then we might have a chance at some kind of peaceful co-existence. Support each other. Understand the struggles of people who aren’t privileged from birth. Appreciate how much extra work a black person in college went through in getting the same degree as you. I’m not black, I never will be, so I’ll never fully get it. (I know a perfect Rachel Dolezal joke could fit here but I’ll refrain…she’s a joke enough) But I can value people who aren’t given the “white privilege” by acknowledging their hardships for simply having more melanin than me.
Be nice to each other. Listen, love, understand, appreciate, and we should be able to make for some better material in the history books, yes?
jacobvanloon
amandla
gummygunk
snowghoul
ellievsbear
