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I love history. Was a history major at the University of Texas (I even went to class on occasion) and I’ve been reading a lot of history lately. Presidential history and 20th century American century mostly. In any and all of these books, the treatment of people of color,
specifically African Americans, will inevitably come up. The racism, injustice, fear and violence they face and have always faced in the United States is hard for someone like me to comprehend, frankly. If I’m being honest, I’d rather not think about it. Also in these books,
there will be an incident, moment or movement that constitutes a fork in the road. An opportunity to advance the cause of equality and civil rights forward, or fight against it and push it back. The further back you go in history, some of the “advancements” themselves are
pathetic and offensive by 2020 standards. But they are advancements just the same, and the white men holding the power have the oppprtunity to advocate for them or stand against them. The men who stand in their way never stop them, of course. The cause advances; it always has and
it always will. The only question in the moment for those who have the power is which side of history will you be on, and how much unnecessary pain will you cause by trying to delay the inevitable? Seems like we’re in one of those moments now. Following this week’s outrage over
the senseless murder of George Floyd (on the heels of many others) maybe the most jarring moments for me have come when I’ve seen and heard African Americans pleading for white people to speak up. To acknowledge the systemic racism that has always
existed and still exists in this country, and to do the heavy lifting in fixing it, because we’re the ones who can. That challenged me. Threatened me. Actually has really shut me down and disoriented me for most of the last two days. As a white, straight,
Protestant male I pretty much check every box on the Chart of Privilege. There’s no doubt that privilege has helped me live a life that to this point has been mostly enjoyable, and ALWAYS comfortable. The fact that I’ve never been any kind of advocate
for those who through the lottery of birth don’t share in this privilege has gnawed at me for a while. It comes up when I read history, or when I read the news while doing my day job. But for the most part it’s easy enough to not speak up, not rock the boat. Just brush it aside
and go about the business of my own life. Until this week. Until George Floyd. Until the challenges pointed directly at people like me from African Americans, some of whom I know, some I don’t. And I’m ashamed to say, my initial reaction was to be defensive, maybe even a little
pissed off. “Hey, I’ve got my own problems!” “Don’t blame this on me-I’ve never hurt anyone, certainly never oppressed anybody. This isn’t my fault. Isn’t my fight!” But the fact is, this is a moment in history; I’m afraid I’ve read too much history to see it as anything else.
And I believe people like me will be on the wrong side of history if we don’t say what we’ve been asked to say, and what I truly believe: yes, systemic racism has been woven into the fabric of this country since its beginning. It still very much exists in 2020. It’s not okay,
it’s never been okay, and the only way forward is for everyone, certainly including white people like me who have benefited from this system, to consistently work to change it in big ways and small ways, until we are all truly seen and treated as equals. Full stop.
And they all lived happily ever after, right? Actually, I have no idea what happens next. But I hope I’m forever changed. And I hope that change is at least in some very small way a benefit to those who have been treated so unfairly for so long.
