June 2020
I don’t feel particularly privileged. And honestly, the phrase “white privilege” makes my skin crawl. I asked a friend what he thought. “I get up and go to work, day-in and day-out. I know what it means to be on time, work hard and be accountable. I’ve earned my success.” I could relate. Like a lot of white folks, I want to be a part of the change. But what does that mean? A different friend noted, “The rules change so rapidly, I can’t keep up.”
In 1963, Martin Luther King Jr. shared a dream of racial equality. King was figuratively holding up the Declaration of Independence and asking the nation fulfill Thomas Jefferson’s vision from 187 years earlier. It remains a dream unfulfilled.
Census analysis by the Empowerment Network finds progress for African Americans is being made. Today about half of blacks define themselves as middle class — roughly the same proportion as whites. Many live in suburbs with little crime, better schools and services like well-stocked grocery stores. However, recent polling finds that blacks living in the suburbs report higher levels of racism than those in inner cities.
Political scientist Ernest McGowan’s study of suburban blacks came out with two interesting findings. Blacks living in predominately white neighborhoods are acutely aware of race, so, in order to fit into social networks, they often define themselves by their education, job or income rather than race. He also found that their white neighbors were oblivious to race — especially their own. For suburban whites, their social networks were founded on other characteristics such as religion, job prestige or materialism.
Once I attended a “Table Talk” on race. One participant was a mixed race gay man. He asked if I ever thought about the person standing near me when I shopped. “No. Why would I?” I asked. “That’s the point, you don’t have to.” Ouch.
As I think about moments when I had to be aware of my race, I remember walking from downtown Memphis to the Lorraine Motel, where M.L. King was killed, which is now the home of the Civil Rights Museum. The farther south I walked, the more my whiteness stood out. I walked a bit faster.
I recently walked across the Tenderloin district of San Francisco. Drug users were passed out on sidewalks. Young men on corners acted as spotters for drug dealers in the mid-block. I walked a bit faster.
A favorite experience was going to a soul food restaurant in Houston’s Fifth Ward. B.B. King sat at a corner table. Although I was the only white guy, Heaven Sent was the place to be. I didn’t bother Mr. King that day, but in all these situations, I was acutely aware that I was alone and felt the need to be aware of those around me.
In “Letter from a Birmingham Jail,” King writes about explaining to his 6-year-old daughter why she couldn’t go to the local amusement park. He described “seeing tears welling up in her eyes when she is told that Funtown is closed to colored children, and [then] see[ing] ominous clouds of inferiority beginning to form in her little mental sky …”
Studies in medical journals increasingly link the stress of long-term racism with adverse physical and mental health conditions. Perhaps white privilege is the fact that I am not forced to think about my race. Or that I do not fear going into public places because a seemingly innocuous encounter could quickly become violent or potentially deadly because of my race.
In time, our nation will emerge from this period of isolation caused by the coronavirus. We could go back to things as normal. Or we could use the moment and choose, as free people, to give a bit of ourselves so that others can enjoy the luxury of moving through life without having to worry about how someone will react to the color of their skin.
Fifty-seven years ago King shared his dream. In the ’70s we drove in our cars and sang with the radio, “Dream on, dream until your dream comes true” (Aerosmith, Dream On). Today, we have a chance to help put racial divisions behind us. All around, I see people eager for change. This time, let’s be human rather than Republican or Democrat. This time, let’s choose the change our kids and grandkids will live with. This time, let’s make that dream reality.
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