My "White" perspective, a limited perspective

As with several other Americans, the Trayvon Martin case is still weighing heavily on my heart. I know several who have moved on and just don’t want to hear “Trayvon Martin” or “Zimmerman.” For me, I feel that this conversation among Americans is long overdue. I used to be one that would proudly proclaim “this is not about race” or “don’t turn this into race” because I did grow up in a place where racial issues were rampant and superimposed. People looked at Mississippi like the plague, ignoring their own silent prejudices. We were working through it while supervised through the microscopic lens of media and opinion. You can see my post tenaciously protecting my beloved home state HERE. We just get so sick of the word “race” being overused. 

Today, though, as one of those people who previously proclaimed avoidance of race, I stand here seeing that it IS still an issue. I never realized it as much because I tried to be open-minded and surround myself with people who love all races and embrace each one equally. Once I stepped outside of this bubble, my perspective began to change. Revelations of my own hidden prejudices surfaced, and I began to see some very covert prejudices in others. It’s now very personal to me being in an interracial relationship and dreaming of adopting a black boy. If you don’t think there’s still racism, look into adoption. Guess which ones are the least likely to be adopted? Black boys. Guess which ones come with an obligatory “warning?” Black boys. Guess which ones have, in the past, had lower adoption fees? Black boys. These are CHILDREN! Guess which ones are the most desired? White. When you look, it is blatant. I consider myself fairly open-minded, but it takes years to pick out all of the soul’s impurities and work to address them and I don’t think we ever eliminate them all. How did I discover this when I’ve worked so hard toward the plight of the minority? When I’ve had conversations including apologies with races that I’ve previously stereotyped? I’m “great” compared to many others. It stems from buried fear. I’ve eluded to issues I have encountered in the past with harassment and reverse prejudice growing up from some young black males. I thought I had recognized it and moved past it, until in the midst of rallying for Trayvon Martin, did I realize that had I been walking in that neighborhood at night, I may have chosen to cross the street and walk on the other side. Ouch. Fear bubbles up, still. Now being a woman who is cautious is one thing, don’t get me wrong. I never put myself in compromising situations when possible. But, just to entertain this thought was enough to realize I still have issues to continue to work through. 

Seriously, the Cheerios commercial that aired in May is enough to convince one that racism is prevalent. Surely, you’ve seen it but if not, watch HERE. I loved the children’s take on it when a group showed them the commercial to see what their reactions would be. Please watch it HERE. It’s evident. They learn what we teach them. I see them as the pure-hearted children that then, because of us, grow up to be the hate-filled adults that cause the comments section of YouTube to be shut down. 

I realized that although I try to be cognizant of my actions and thoughts and however present I may be in them, I will never know what it is like to experience the world through darker skin. I can’t, therefore, I cannot and MUST not speak on behalf of them. While I argued that so many situations were NOT because of race, I spoke through my own perspective which is limited at best. Now, these issues affect me directly as I choose to marry and adopt men with darker skin into my family. I cannot fully understand because a privilege comes attached to me that I can’t even see or recognize, that I never asked for. I have come to realize this when I recycle in Santa Ana.  I can relate to the efforts of recycling when I’m surrounded by others but I can’t relate to their experiences. The majority of the recyclers I’m surrounded by are Latino. They are not here, like me, to build a community because I choose to. Many rely on this source of income. I stood next to one man in line waiting for the disbursement. I see him each time I am there. He rolls his recycling to the center in a grocery cart. He doesn’t drive a car, ever. He had a very kind face filled with age. Each line I’m sure tells a story of hardship and hopefully triumph.  His smile was warm and comforting and brought me to tears wondering of the details of his life. I know that if we were side by side, I would be given the benefit of the doubt in many situations. Because of my merit? No. 

I’ve prayed earnestly to have impurities, biases, and prejudices brought to surface as much as possible NOW before my road down as a trans-racial family begins.  I want to be the best that I can be. Children learn what they live. They love who we love. They hate what, and God forbid who, we hate. They become who we define them to be. 

Do you need to ask that some hidden fears or assumptions be brought to surface?

Maybe before speaking on behalf of a race either way, we sit back as Caucasians and listen and let them speak for themselves. 

Model love well,

Danielle