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You appear to like white women

Matthew Barrett,
Houston, TX

I’ve heard this from different women of color more times than I would like. I’m not entirely sure what would cause someone to make such a bold assumption, but it’s exasperating. Is it the way I present myself? Is it my diction? Why would my attraction to the opposite sex be limited to the racial identity of the individual, opposed to character? Ironically, I’ve never been in a long-term relationship with a white woman, nor is it a particularly exclusive pursuit that I seek when dating.

I confront my racist thoughts daily.

Karen Polis,
Long Beach, CA

I am a 59-year-old white woman who grew up in a well-to-do suburb of Washington, DC. I wasn’t aware of the racist conditioning I grew up with until I became a Los Angeles Public Defender in 1990. I have since had numerous jobs in the criminal justice system, all of which dealt with the needs of the Black community. I after the 2016 election, I went back to school full-time at Howard university. I got a Masters of Social Work. I chose Howard so that I could work on issues of race. I am now a licensed independent clinical social worker. I am practicing law as a Los Angeles Public Defender again, and providing teletherapy for a handful of Black clients in the Washington, DC public health system. I have never told a Black person that racist thoughts pop into my head every day. They are thoughts that stem from TV, commercials, attitudes, the news, etc. growing up in the 60s and 70s. Fortunately, I race was a neutral issue in my household. Still, the conditioning was very strong. When the racist thoughts pop into my head, I swat them away, sometimes 10 times in a minute. They are thoughts of judgment, lesser than, distrust. Are used to go through the process of looking at the thought, questioning it, immediately, concluding that that is not my value or feelings about the Black community. Today the process is much quicker. By repeatedly confronting the racist thoughts, my mind now nimbly swats them away. I’ve had this conversation with white people. I say that the difference between me and a member of the KKK is that I don’t believe my thoughts while they do. The more time I spend with Black people, the less the thoughts pop up I cannot control the thought coming into my mind, but I can control the thought that comes after that. I do not like these thoughts. They are extraordinarily uncomfortable. I don’t feel white guilt about having the thoughts because I understand that it comes from conditioning, not me. I also have thoughts about body size that stem from my conditioning as a competitive gymnast in the 70s. That said, the racist thoughts interfere with my peace. They feel bad. They feel angry and judgmental and demeaning and condescending. I feel yicky when I feel that way. Some people may feel empowered or strong when feeling superior. But it drains my peace when I feel judgmental. Being pelted with racist thoughts from within me feels like a lesser degree of hearing racist thoughts from other people. I’ve slowed down, my thinking enough that I can watch the thought come up, swat it away, new thought, back hand it, over and over again. It’s like playing tennis at Wimbledon where are the racist thoughts are lobbed against me from my subconscious brain, and returned to the server by my conscious brain. Only I’m not playing another person, but an infatigible ball machine fueled by 400 years of racist thinking. My family came to this country from Greece 100 years ago. Yet I have been conditioned by 400 years of American racism. At the Howard School of Social Work, we focused on the Black Perspective and were consciously challenged to look at our hidden feelings (e.g.: populations we would have trouble serving). I have taken that task to heart. I have four hour long conversations with an African-American friend of mine, who is a lawyer and a sneaker geek. We talk about issues of race and the world in a unique way. We have both bought microphones to start a podcast that we’ve been talking about for years. Our conversations talk about our varied experiences that always land us back in the middle. I am saving a copy of this in hopes that I will have the courage to share it with her in one of our talks. I am not there today. How do I tell a dear friend that tiny racist voices blather in my ear when we talk (sometimes)? Does it matter that I tune the voices out? That I don’t listen to them? Or is the point that my brain generates the racist thoughts at all? Hey, maybe she has racist thoughts about me when we talk? Wouldn’t that be grand. Now that would be an interesting conversation. How 2 friends silence the involuntary racist thoughts about one another and our communities, and more importantly, talk openly about it. Thank you for this opening. Best of luck with the project! KP

Just cutting ribbon is not enough

Cayleigh Malone,
Hyannis, MA

As a white middle class female, I have realized through classes and my own perspective that not all races don’t have an equal advantage. Black people and other races have been oppressed in America throughout history. Now in a time where there is “equal opportunity” we have to realize that the oppression has caused races to be behind the starting line, so us just letting them start with us isn’t enough.

No my parents don’t pay school

Cayleigh Malone,
Durham, NH

Often times people think that because I am a middle class white woman, my parents are paying for my education. While I am grateful to have a roof over my head and food on the table, I am on my own in college. My parents have their own medical bills to pay and I have to learn how to pay loans and live on my own. So when someone says I attend on “daddy’s money”, please realize I will have all my own loans to pay after school

I see much. I feel everything.

IMG_20140527_191755Jeanie Mitchell,
Atlantic Beach, FL.

I’m a taxi driver. I’ve been accused of being too liberal to be a cab driver. I see so much, every day. I transport a lot of people and I hear so many stories. I fear being a white woman, carrying a white man, in this industry, more than I fear being a white woman who transports a black man, in this industry. I see the “flat line” in their eyes, when they converse with me, I hear their tired voices. They work hard, they strive to rise above.
When we strip ourselves of all; color, background, religious/sexual orientation, political views…..one is left exposed as HUMAN.

My Black is Best on Me

Shani Ketema,
Newark, NJ.

Mini Buns. Boxer Braids. Tans. Injections. Street style. TRANSLATION Bantu Knots, Cornrows, Black skin, thickness and what I’ve been wearing for years cause designer is expensive.

I’m beyond tired of hearing that my black looks better on the bodies of white America. It’s not fair that someone can buy my skintone in a store and spray it on them- especially if all my life I had to hear how bad it was to be colored this way. Especially if it took years for my older sister to love our skin. It’s not fair that my twerk means I have no self respect, but my friend Jenny’s twerk just means she’s having fun killing it. It’s definitely not fair that my hair- locked and curly is a problem on me but not a problem for the white women to whom Elle, Vogue and Allure appeal to. It’s not fair that Kylie Jenner has taken everything that I as a black girl was teased for and made it into something ‘litt’ for her own personal gain. I could go on and on about the other things that are coincidently okay on white women: my a**, my gele (Nigerian hair piece), my dashiki etc etc. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that black people in blonde weaves and blue contacts isn’t the same thing. It definitely is and I’ll entertain anyone who points that out. I’m just saying that I shouldn’t have to hear that my black looks better on a white woman.

Working hard as a white woman

Lindsey Halsey
River Falls, WI

Sometimes I feel that racism is taken to such extremes that we forget how much everyone struggles and is judged through life. I’m a young, white, middle-class college student who struggles with school, an income, and creating a future. We all struggle throughout life, racism isn’t completely to blame.

You don’t look like a Latina

Marie-Elena Reyes
Portland, OR

I have been speechless when told this (often by white women). The first time, I was angry and hurt to hear my life and racialized experience in America wiped away by someone trying to make me feel accepted. The most recent time this happened I knew what I wanted to say (actually scream at the speaker) but I couldn’t get past my surprise that source of the comment was a career coach who I had been working with for months. I am continually amazed at how little has changed in terms of understanding culture and race for white Americans.

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