Everyday Dismantling #7 – Learn By Making Mistakes

How did you learn how to tie your shoes? To drive? To apply makeup or style your hair? To write your name in cursive? To read? To swim? To ride a bike?

Unless you are some freak of nature and succeeded in learning those life-skills in one single attempt, it took time. It took failure. In some cases, it took a combination of courage and humiliation. For example, I finally stopped perming my hair, and through the gentle coaching of a teacher/director I learned to give up dreams of acting and stick to public speaking as “me”.

So many of my dear readers have responded to my most recent post about a racist encounter in a public space with questions:

What should a bystander have done? What would have been the right response? What  were you hoping someone would do? What should I do when I see something like this happen?

But before I answer the question(s), I’ll do what I did before and throw it back to you, my dear readers.

Why are you asking these questions? Why do you want to know the “right” way to respond when witnessing a racist situation? What is the worst thing that could happen if you had actually been there and done something, anything?

I really wish there was one “right” answer so that we could teach it in schools, churches, synagogues, mosques, coffee shops, and craft beer stores. I wish there was a line or a phrase that would’ve been perfect. I wish I could tell all of you that if someone had only done this or said that I wouldn’t have walked away shaken, wouldn’t have cried this morning at the sound of my friend Deidra’s voice checking in with me or this afternoon when Deb’s kind note arrived.

But there isn’t.

My dear readers, I can hear the fear of failure behind your question. Not all of you, but some of you. Maybe a lot of you. You are afraid of saying something wrong, afraid that you will come off as the arrogant white person, the white savior.

And you might come off that way because until you practice saying and acting out what you are learning in your heart and mind it may sound scripted, savior-ish, stilted. It may come out wrong or awkward. You may be misunderstood. You may make a mistake.

But you should do something, say something. It may not be met with overflowing gratitude. You may not even be thanked. (Brad walked away and I was trying to hold it together so I didn’t seek him out afterwards. I just wanted to leave. But just in case, Brad, if you are reading this, if you are the youngish white man in the polo shirt, I think it was blue, who stepped in, thank you. Thank you.) You may actually exacerbate and escalate the situation. You may fail.

But do something because your conscience, your soul, your heart and mind told you that in the presence of injustice and hatred and confusion people need to act, not just think, the part of justice and love and peace. You should speak up and speak out when you know something is wrong not because you want to be right or perfectly understood.

This is not my first rodeo with racism. I learned I was a chink and a gook growing up in Roselle, Illinois. I was bullied and harassed. I have been told over and over in so many different ways that I do not belong, and while EVERYONE can sympathize with that, NOT EVERYONE knows the personal pain of being told in so many ways over a lifetime that they do not belong in this country because of their race, ethnicity or religion (actual or perceived). This incident and all the others I’m referring to are not the same as not being picked for the dodgeball team or being in the cool crowd or feeling left out.

I was told to leave this country because Asian Americans are perpetual foreigners. My sons, who witnessed this and have told the story to their friends, will say, “We were told to go back to where we came from.” They took the white man’s comments personally.

There is some irony in all of this. Unless you are Native American/First Nations this here United States of America is actually not “OUR COUNTRY” in the possessive ownership sense. We citizens of the USA who lack Native blood are ALL IMMIGRANTS residing on stolen land. This really isn’t “OUR COUNTRY”, is it? Let’s sit on that for awhile, shall we?

But that’s not what that man meant. He didn’t challenge the white male cashier. He saw me and my sons and assumed his white privilege and did not hesitate to tell me to “Go back to your country.”

None of us can learn a new skill in one attempt. None of us. We all fail. We will make mistakes along the way. Silence is a mistake my family and I cannot afford.

Be willing to make a mistake. To fail. Practice in your head what you might say or do and maybe whisper it out loud right now as you finish reading. And then wait for it. Don’t throw away your shot.

 

 

 

Everyday Dismantling #6 – Listening

Lou Ann just listened.

“What I’m saying is nobody feels sorry for anybody anymore, nobody even pretends they do. Not even the President. It’s like it’s become unpatriotic.” I unfolded my wad of handkerchief and blew my nose.

“What’s that supposed to teach people?” I demanded. “It’s no wonder kids get the hurting end of the stick. And she’s so little, so many years ahead of her. I’m just not up to the job, Lou Ann.”
 
Lou Ann sat with her knees folded under her, braiding and unbraiding the end of a strand of my hair.
 
“Well, don’t feel like the Lone Ranger,” she said. “Nobody is.”
The Bean Trees, Barbara Kingsolver

I don’t know about you but July is turning out to be a discouraging, deadly month.  I am afraid to turn on the news, read a newspaper, or look at my Twitter feed.

This week I’ve opted to watch the Republican National Convention. Strange as it may sound, it was a spiritual discipline to watch and listen. Speakers talked with nostalgia about an America I have never known nor am I familiar with. It was challenging to sit and listen and not roll my eyes at every other phrase or promise of success. It was particularly difficult to listen to people who claimed the same faith as I have in Jesus and hear them paint a reality that seems very different than mine.

Listening is one way everyone, but particularly my dear white readers, can begin the very hard and good work of dismantling privilege. Listening requires we shut our own mouths and the internal commentary long enough to allow the words, stories, and heart of someone else be the vessel of the Spirit to identify prejudices, biases, racism, sexism, ableism, homophobia in our hearts.

Listening is an act of loving submission and partnership, a ceasing of my mouth to allow another person space to verbally communicate and express whatever it is that needs to spoken, yelled, or ugly cried between the two or more of us present.

As a Korean American woman I learned as a little girl my place in the world was the listen. To speak only when spoken to. To stay silent and stay out of trouble. I spent a lot of time listening to the world around me, which to this day is so often comprised of white men and women. Their stories, their words, their interpretations of life and scripture became the norm and everything else became secondary and optional.

And as I listened this week I heard many white men and women who are afraid that no one is listening to them anymore. That sharing space and power means losing. I heard people who have been so accustomed to being the only voice screaming louder and louder in hopes of remaining the only voice.

So my dear readers, listen. If you are truly looking to dismantle privilege (that elusive white privilege some are screaming doesn’t exist but their screaming about loss and fear and destruction begs otherwise), listen. Listen to those of us who are not surprised it has come to this. Listen to those of us who have been trying to tell you that racism is alive and well and never died. Listen to some of the speeches given this past week for the code switching. Listen to the screaming and yelling about building walls and past greatness.

What do you hear?

Everyday Dismantling #4

What are some practical, everyday ways we can work to dismantle privilege that both are simple, clear things to do and don’t burden PoC (people of color) with the expectation they be our (unpaid) teachers?

It has been one hell of a month – 11 days in Pacific and Eastern Standard Time and what feels like a relentless stream of violence against black people and examples of white supremacy, white privilege, and American racism. (I am using “American racism” because I am freaking tired of people pointing out there is racism in other countries. That’s fine, but like I often hear: WE ARE IN AMERICA!)

So to end this month there are three just two things, dear readers, I would like to suggest as practical, everyday ways to dismantle privilege:

1. Leverage your privilege in a mundane, boring, non-savior sort of way that doesn’t involve asking a PoC for anything. As a Korean-American woman who is in great health with reliable transportation, I have made a small, tiny commitment to donate blood.

What does blood donation have to do with dismantling privilege? What did you think dismantling privilege was going to be? Saving poor people of color and being their saviors?    Nope. Jesus already has that spot in my life, thank you very much. Dismantling privilege in part is taking stock of where privilege lulls us into thinking our money, our platforms, our influence are the best and perhaps only ways of breaking down systems instead of considering how our entire embodied lives can impact the world and people around us. If I can’t do the little things, I have no business trying to do any heavy lifting of social injustice.

I don’t particularly like giving blood, and the finger prick, IMHO, is the worst. But I live in the “safe” suburbs where kids and adults don’t generally get pulled over for a missing license plate or arrested for drug dealing and abuse. But I also live within walking distance from a Level 1 trauma hospital where we regularly hear medical helicopters coming and going. Broken systems in a deeper sense mean we all experience death and brokenness in a way God did not originally intend. People are suffering and dying everyday, spiritually and physically, right in front of our eyes. It’s not just in the news. So as an act of worship I barely inconvenience myself to willingly shed blood for those who need it, because my health allows me to do it freely. That is part of dismantling – acting freely, without strings attached, to help right something that is wrong.

2. Care for the PoC around you. Now, this doesn’t mean going up to PoC you don’t know and giving them a hug and asking to get to know their story, and I say this because this was suggested at a conference I attended where the last thing I needed was another random white person asking to get to know me. I am assuming, dear readers, you have friends who are not white. Send your friends an actual note of encouragement or a text. Check in with them when the poo poo hits the fan. Tell them how their engagement and unofficial role as unpaid teachers of social justice has made an impact in your life. Treat them to coffee. Send them a care package or a gift certificate (I am not even kidding you on this!) and encourage the PoC, especially those who are deeply engaged in the work of dismantling privilege, to care for themselves. We are TIRED.

Honestly, I don’t know how some of my black friends walk out the front door anymore. Does the car have both license plates? Do I have my polite voice? Will I make eye contact but not too much eye contact? Will my friendliness be perceived as disrespect? Can I reach for my license and registration or do I need to point to my purse or wallet first? Again, to point out the obvious (maybe it isn’t that obvious since many of you don’t actually KNOW me), I am a Korean-American woman. I don’t think being pulled over by a police officer is a threat to my life. But life in America as a non-white person can be exhausting, a series of microaggressions – daily reminders of my otherness – that I choose to ignore or engage. Some examples of the “easier” ones:

  • The random stranger who greets me with a phrase in her/his choice of Asian language, usually a man saying “konichiwa” or “ni hao” because clearly all Asians speak all Asian languages and not English.
  • The “where are you from” line of questioning that is rarely satisfied by my answer: Chicago.
  • “Where did you learn your English? You speak it so well.” 
  • Conversations about “minorities” or “black people” but then being put at ease by being told, “but you’re not like that”.
  • Reading Yelp reviews about nail salons and the rudeness of employees speaking another language in front of customers (‘cuz you know the nail techs are always talking about you, lady) or the language barriers mono-language Americans face when ordering at their favorite authentic Asian restaurant.

We can only ignore things and let them roll off our backs for so long before we begin to pick up the message that we don’t fit the standard of American. This happens not just on the street but in our churches and places of worship, our schools, our favorite coffee shops. Turn on the tv or open up a magazine. Go to the movies. Look at the speaker line-up for conferences or at the attendees at the next conference or meeting you are at. Look at the list of recommended books. Glance at the patrons in your favorite restaurant. I usually make a scene when my family and I aren’t the only ones. Why do I pay attention? Well, because white people don’t have to. And because you don’t have to, your energy doesn’t go into managing all of the possibilities of every encounter, every post you put up on Facebook, etc. You aren’t tired the same way we are tired so care for your friends of color.

Everyday Dismantling #3

 

 

 

This has been one heck of a week. Confederate flags. SCOTUS decisions on health care, fair housing, marriage equality. Funerals. I am exhausted and as usual sitting in the tension. Dear Readers, do not run away from the tension. Sit in it. Wait it in. Rest in it. That is where Jesus has always been.

So, we return to the question:

What are some practical, everyday ways we can work to dismantle privilege that both are simple, clear things to do and don’t burden PoC (people of color) with the expectation they be our (unpaid) teachers?

The beauty and challenge of the internet and social media is the access and our ability to choose and filter the voices we listen to and learn from. One simple way to begin working on dismantling privilege is to listen to PoC who are voluntarily being your unpaid teachers. We blog. We tweet. We post things on Facebook. We write things that challenge you. We write things that challenge one another. We do not always agree with one another. That is part of the process of dismantling privilege: we must recognize the echo chamber we have created for ourselves. I’m all for being in the company of like-minded people. I find life there. But there is also life and learning by listening to a variety of voices.

This is not a complete list. It’s a start. If you, dear readers, have other PoC to add to this list of Twitter handles, please do so in the comments! Are you, dear reader, a person of color who tweets? Please add your handle to the comments! (And thanks to Judy Wu Dominick for the start of this list, @judydominick.)

twitter

@CSCleve (Christena Cleveland)
@trillianewbell (Trillia Newbell)
@JohnMPerkins (John Perkins)
@NoelCCDA (Noel Castellanos)
@LeroyBarber (Leroy Barber)
@JennyYang (Jenny Yang)
@lisasharper (Lisa Sharon Harper)
@efremsmith (Efrem Smith)
@tanehisicoates (Ta Nehisi Coates)
@DruHart (Drew Hart)
@austinchanning (Austin Channing Brown)
@breyeschow (Bruce Reyes Chow)
@WEB_Ture (Dominique Gilliard)
@eji_org (Equal Justice Initiative)
@profrah (Soong-Chan Rah)
@shaunking (Shaun King)
@thabitianyabwil (Thabiti Anyabwile)
@asistasjourney (Natasha Robinson)
@wirelesshogan (Mark Charles)
@sandravanopstal (Sandra Van Opstal)
@revdocbrenda (Brenda Salter McNeil)
@drchanequa (Chanequa Walkers-Barnes)
@themelvinbray (Melvin Bray)
@seanisfearless (Sean Watkins)
@jeffchu (Jeff Chu)
@foreverfocused (Jonathan Walton)
@iammickyjones (Micky ScottBey Jones)
@nativechristian (Native Christian)
@sepiamutiny (Sepia Mutiny)
@latinotheology (Latina/o Theology)
@latashamorrison (Tasha Morrison)
@zakiyanaemajack (Zakiya Naema Jackson)

Everyday Dismantling #2

What are some practical, everyday ways we can work to dismantle privilege that both are simple, clear things to do and don’t burden PoC (people of color) with the expectation they be our (unpaid) teachers?

Well, it’s been a long week. The news doesn’t get better. I don’t know why we’re surprised. The confederate flag flies freely with no shame in South Carolina. When a symbol of racism, slavery, and hatred stands alongside the U.S. flag what does that say? I don’t know what you hear but I hear “F-U”.

So today’s suggestion is simple and a repeat of something mentioned last week.

BE YOUR OWN BEST RESEARCHER.

If you are reading this post, you are technologically savvy and connected enough to do this extremely well.

For example, today is Juneteenth. If you don’t know what that is, what it means, what it symbolizes, please start by looking it up in whichever search engine you prefer. Go to the library. Read a book or a magazine article. You do not need to depend on your friends of color to teach you about everything you do not know about history.

Today also marks 33 years since Vincent Chin was bludgeoned into a coma. He died four days later. If you’ve never heard of Chin, look him up in Wikipedia. Click on the links. Again, do not depend on your friends of color to be your only unpaid teachers.

You may find yourself wondering, “But Kathy, I am asking you to teach me because I trust you and you said to learn so I’m asking. Why won’t you just tell me what you know instead of directing me to an impersonal website or book?”

BECAUSE PEOPLE OF COLOR GET TIRED. We get tired of being your only sources of information, especially if you are looking for information. We’ve all heard the phrase “wait for the facts” in relation to every. single. violent. incident. involving police and the black community. Well, there are some facts you do not need to wait for. You can look them up and learn.

And if you are a bit taken aback at my tone or feel dismissed by my suggestion to do some research do not put your discomfort on me or your friends of color. I don’t like to look stupid or caught off guard (unless it’s surprise party & then I had at least have some lipstick on). I like to be prepared. But part of this journey is that we actually DO NOT KNOW IT ALL. If you feel stupid, embarrassed, ignorant consider what is going on deeper in your soul. Take a moment and reflect:

  • Why am I feeling embarrassed about not knowing this piece of information?
  • Why does it create dissonance in me?
  • What do I think this ignorance says about me? Is it true? Is this how God sees me? If not, what might the Enemy be trying to do in my heart?
  • What is God’s invitation in this for me?

And if you’re willing to consider another suggestion, Rev. Michael McBride, the director of Live Free and Urban Strategies with the PICO National Network, has invited people to join in sending notes of support and prayers to our brothers and sisters at “Mother Emmanuel” AME Church in Charleston, S.C. Click here to send in your prayer and encouragement today.