The Dear Blank Friend Project
I have started a project I call “Dear Blank Friend” where people from around the US write to a close friend that is unlike them – be it a woman and a man, a Jewish person and a Muslim person, black and white, etc. During this project one friend will write the other friend and ask them those really difficult and uncomfortable questions that can come off as antagonizing if it weren’t for the trust between the two friends that already exists. It’s through this trust and understanding that these conversations can build, without being offended, to make headway and speak honestly. The names can be anonymous if anyone feels uncomfortable, but these conversations are meant to be both intimate and at the highest point of our intellect.
When person 1 asks their questions (in letter/email) to person 2, person 2 responds to the questions, then writes to a new person/friend and asks questions. Then that person responds, and writes new questions to another person/friend, and thus the project moves forward. The point of each letter is not to “win” an argument, but to have a conversation. Our perspective is shaped by experience.
We would name each section with the “labeling” and focus of the letter. For example if I was writing a friend that was transgendered, I would write “Dear Transgendered Friend,” which would be the title of that exchange. The label is to acknowledge that recognizing diversity can deepen a friendship, and should not be ignored or brushed over. Talking about our differences doesn’t need to separate us, but may strengthen us.
Overall I’d like to have 50 people involved, resulted in 100 letters. I would need to be involved with each exchange to curate the overarching goal of the project, which is to reach a wide variety of people. Would you be interested in participating? Do you have any questions or thoughts? If so please email me at [email protected].
Below is an example of a real exchange:
Letter one: Dear Black Friend
Relationship: These are two friends who have known each other since elementary school, and also attended middle school and high school together. They were in each other’s classes, on multiple sports teams together, and also rode their bikes to school together every day. Their parents were friendly with each other, if not friends. They’ve always thought highly of the other. The pair grew up in Plantation, Florida, which is a diverse community in both ethnicity and financial means. Both happen to currently live in Chicago, Illinois. Meisha is a white straight female, and Skylar is a black straight female.
It took me 27 years to realize I was part of the problem. Overt racism was never in my vernacular, but microaggressions certainly existed within me, and I’m sure some remain undetected. My family is very open and accepting of all walks of life. They instilled these beliefs within me to the point that I assumed all people felt that way. I believed it so strongly that when I read about police brutality I had trouble accepting it was real. The actuality that someone would kill another human for being black seemed so impossible to me that I denied it for years. While I didn’t blame the victim I told myself there must be more to the story, or there was something that I didn’t understand. Now I realize when any minority, or marginalized person says, “Something discriminatory happened to me,” one of the best things I can say is, “I believe you.”
I come from Jewish ancestry, and while the persecution of any person is not comparable, I often think of the slurs used on my family to replace slurs used on other minorities to help me understand how it feels. People often accuse others of being too sensitive or being obsessed with political correctness. At times it seems as though the line between taking oneself too seriously and feeling disrespected are blurred. That’s how I can tell the difference. When someone calls a black person a “nigger” (It’s hard for me to even type that word.) I replace it with “kike.” I imagine my great grandma being called that by a group of cackling adolescents in Poland, while they walked to school in the snow. I let it sink into my heart. I feel the pain and know this isn’t a matter of humor. That’s how I can tell the difference. The pain. Yet, I ask myself, what slur can a white man replace these words with and feel that pain? Honkey? Cracker? These words aren’t jaded with violence and death and persecution. Do you think it’s possible for them to even begin to understand if they have nothing to haunt them? Further do they have to understand in order to deeply sympathize?
My goal in all of this is to be an advocate, and yet at some points I find myself being attacked for being white when it comes to conversations about racism. There is no doubt that no matter how many articles a white person reads or conversations a white person has with a black person, they can never replicate the innumerable slights black people face daily. I am not challenging that. However, in some cases I see a person who is rightfully angry and devastated with the current climate, but that anger is so great that it blinds them from seeing who is an enemy and who is an ally, based on skin color. Do you ever feel that way towards white people?
When working on something this large together, it’s impossible to agree on every iota, but if I disagree on a matter and then I am told my white fragility needs to be checked, it’s disheartening. It doesn’t mean I am going to stop advocating equal rights and fair treatment, but it’s something I struggle to understand. If I am not doubting the struggle, but engaging a conversation on ways to prevent it, are my own thoughts invalid because they are bleached with white privilege?
One of the debates at hand was the glamorizing of violence. My argument was that while the system is rigged against people who are black, racists in power use the pro-violence approach as a reason to dehumanize black people. I don’t question that black persons have turned to illegal acts because they don’t feel like real members of an imbalanced society, and further that the system is so overwhelmingly against their success that in many cases it feels like (and maybe it is) the only choice. What I am saying is if powerful black figures promote these activities, it only makes it harder for the forward motion of this movement. My logic is that, in this case, I hear what racist people say when they think other white people are on their side. Doesn’t it help to hear how the enemy thinks? Do you think that’s victim blaming? If it is, is it inaccurate? Is this now a never ending cycle of cause and effect?
I read a status on social media that said, “As a black woman, I am so tired of explaining. It’s not my job to explain how things are to white people. Figure it out yourself.” The anger is valid. Ignorance is rampant and no one was listening for a long time, but is it possible that people asking stupid questions is better than when white people didn’t even stop to ask questions in the first place?
Is it possible for a white person to have an opinion and valuable input when it comes to this race war or is the only way to be a true advocate to agree and support? From a “black perspective” what is a white ally’s place?
Thank you for agreeing to have this conversation with me. I believe discussing things that are uncomfortable to admit is a step forward. We are trying to undo years of nothing short of systemic brainwashing.
Before I answer each of your questions, I feel like there are certain points to be addressed that encompass a large amount of my general thought process. I will also say that my viewpoints tend to align with many of my other black friends, professional colleagues, and family members:
This concept that it is difficult to believe police brutality is, “actually happening,” or “really that bad,” does not exist to the black American. It’s not a surprise or a secret, even. This is because being raised in a black household teaches you very early in life the very strict rules of society, even before you want to learn them. Your parents teach you about slavery and the disenfranchisement of your people yeeeeears before the school systems teach you (if your school system even covers it at all) and parents make a point to convey how you (as a people) have ended up where you are today. More importantly, your parents instill these values within you for one main reason: they want their children to survive. And by survive, I mean literally not get killed. Every parent fears their son becoming a “Trayvon Martin,” which is why there is very little surprise from the black community when tragic events do occur. Once you, as a black child, understand the spectrum of how white Americans can view you, then you also understand how to conduct yourself. For example, a black male teenager and a white male teenager are viewed completely different especially in the eyes of the police. But in the black household, you’re taught this already. You’re taught to conduct yourself in the most non-threatening manner because at baseline, there are many white Americans that already find you to be intimidating, dangerous, unpredictable, uneducated, or worse. Parents teach their children the same values they were taught in order to ensure that, for one, you don’t forget your history, and for two, you live to see another day, and three, you can hopefully learn to navigate this system well enough to possibly be successful in the future.
Generally speaking, black people as a whole are not looking for white America’s sympathy, at least not usually. What we want is for white Americans to acknowledge their privilege and recognize that black individuals in the same country are treated as second class citizens namely in the eyes of politicians, law enforcement, and even their employers. It is general knowledge in the black community that if you have an interaction with a police officer while not committing a crime, you probably have a 50% chance of walking away safely, and a 25% chance of being shot, depending on your neighborhood. And, of course, if you are committing a crime then you should know better. Because they will definitely shoot you, petty theft or not. Historically, police officers have never valued black lives, so we’re cautious at baseline, and if you’re committing an actual crime, then good luck buddy because you’re probably a goner. We know this isn’t how it is for white people.
Also, I don’t think white Americans need a past filled with death and despair (slavery or Holocaust) in order to have a sense of decency and a proper moral compass, but I will say, many white Americans do find it difficult to understand what it feels like to live in a society where your best interest has never been taken into account. They have a hard time coming to terms with this mainly because many tend to ignore the facts presented to them or feel as if the facts presented don’t have an impact on their lives personally, so they choose to not acknowledge or address it. “Why rock the boat when the issue doesn’t even pertain me?” Valid question. The answer? Because if this is really “One nation, under God,” and all that jazz, then my problems are your problems. We are all Americans, right? Rich/poor/black/white/doctor/teacher/creator/immigrant/military/gay/straight, all of it. So, I don’t think asking for equality is “too much” to ask for.
Anyway, onto the question of what we want from white allies, right?
One of the MOST important things a white ally needs to understand is that all black people do NOT view how to tackle racism in America in the same way, at all. This is where it gets really tricky. For the sake of simplicity, I’ll try to break it down. There’s three main attitudes of blacks towards racism in America. The sooner you understand this, the sooner you’ll realize that the white ally plays a different role to each black friend.
1) The “I’m Not Part of This” black friend
Generally has a large group of white friends, does not like to talk about racism with anyone, ever. Likes to pretend no one in America is slighted by anyone. Kind of has a hippie-esque peace, love, and happiness vibe about them, but overall doesn’t like to discuss controversial topics. Would rather play beer-pong with you than talk about current events.
Role of white ally: Just play beer pong with this black person. If you attempt to ask a racial/political question you’ll either get, “I don’t really have feelings on that,” or “Can we not talk about racism? Is that still a thing?”
2) The “Martin Luther King Jr.” black friend (I, Skyler, am in this group)
Generally follows political/racial events happening in the nation and has a factual based opinion on the matter. This group is open to discussing racial topics in order to learn from all parties involved. (Exceptions: we do not talk about racial, political, or religious differences while at work, because duh.) This group overall wants the world to be a better place. Unlike black person number one, black person number two recognizes the work that needs to be done and is willing to also work with others to make a positive change across the board.
Role of white ally: Have open discussions with this friend about the thoughts, feelings, and emotions of blacks in America. As long as you don’t say anything too outlandish, the conversation will go well. The main thing this friend wants from you is for you to listen, learn, and spread the knowledge you gain. Oh! And for you to shut down your racist white coworkers, friends, family members when they say dumb Trumpy things. Yes. Thanks in advance.
3) The “Malcolm X” black friend
Generally, this group of blacks are also very knowledgeable, follows the news/politics, but are of the Malcolm X, “by any means necessary,” mentality. Meaning, they are mainly driven by anger and passion, but also have a desire to see change equal to black person number two. They are angry that there are still white Americans that don’t “get it,” angry that the government is built to keep black people, men in particular, from prospering, angry that the black community has been torn apart by the mass incarceration of black men in the 80’s and 90’s resulting in the dysfunction of the black family structure. Girl, basically everything blacks have ever been slighted by. I’m not saying these statements aren’t cause for anger, but this group dwells on these facts, turns them into rage, resulting in riots, damaged property, and the killing of police officers. They then justify their actions as it all being in the name of “We will achieve equality by any means necessary.” They seldom listen, act very quickly, and tend to think after the situation has ended.
Role for the white ally: There is no role for you here. This black person will feel as if you do not understand them at all. They don’t want to hear how much you think you know about the black struggle. To them, you are a product of privilege, not necessarily the problem, but they will not work with you to find a solution to their BLACK problem, because you’re not black, and in their eyes you don’t get it and never will.
I just hit you with a lot of information, and you probably have even more questions now, but hopefully this helps move the conversation along.
