"Thug"

I want to talk to you about language.

I want to talk to you about the words we choose and what they mean and how carefully and lovingly we should wield them, especially in these delicate, volatile times when there is so much repair work to be done and so little room for new damage. We are stretched thin and the only way to reach out to one another is gently, carefully, and with mindfulness. Remember: words are powerful. They manifest our realities in many ways. The words we hear and use inform our perception, and too often we toss them around thoughtlessly without fully exploring their meanings and connotations.
I am saying this because I have noticed that a lot of white folks truly believe that because they have never used the "N" word, they have never employed racist or racially-insensitive verbiage, and are genuinely indignant at any suggestion otherwise. I'm talking about the well-intended white folks who claim and genuinely believe they "do not have a racist bone in their body" and yet get on board readily with the rhetoric surrounding Mike Brown and what he did or did not "deserve" based on the perception of him.

With the advent of so-called "political correctness", there has been less and less tolerance for overtly racist language, and so, no, in civilized society, we definitely don't accept or condone use of the "N" word anymore. When people used that word freely back in the day, it was clear to all what was meant by it: it was used by white people to relegate a black person's status to "less-than"; even in the absence of overt malice, its intent was always to devalue and reduce. Later, as it lost favor among polite society, the intent behind its use was (is) to vilify, dehumanize, and to openly express contempt.

But since as a society we have basically agreed that it is no longer acceptable to use such overtly offensive language, I have noticed that in place of this one taboo word, there are now several other words we can get away with using which convey basically the same thing.

Specifically I want you to consider the word "thug" and what you mean when you use it, and the connotations it conjures in the mind of your audience.

The actual definition of this word:
Thug (\ˈthəg\) *noun*
1. a cruel or vicious ruffian, robber, or murderer.

So, by definition, any number of people of any background could be described as "thugs", right? But today, what people usually mean when they toss the word "thug" around is very specific. Generally, when we hear "thug" it is referring to a young, urban black male who may embody any, all, or none of the following stereotypical behaviors: listens to rap music (too loud), is dressed in a particular fashion (possibly with sagging pants), who may or may not sell drugs (but probably smokes weed) and who may (probably) have a (illegal) gun. This person is presumed to live outside of the law and to either be a criminal or a potential criminal. This person is assumed to be undereducated, under-or-unemployed, and, of course, unduly aggressive. Please note that it is not always used to describe how this person is actually living, however, because that person need not actually BE a "thug" by definition. He need only be perceived as one by these unreliable cues we rely on (loud rap music, sagging pants, etc).

White Americans (and some black Americans too) disapprove of so-called "thugs". We are afraid of them. Unfortunately, this fear renders us unable to see each person as an individual. It allows us to dehumanize through judgment and disapproval. Because when we have decided someone is a "thug", our conscience has already concluded that this person is expendable by presuming he is "dangerous". So by extension, whatever befalls him is his own doing because he was a "thug" and therefore probably deserved it.

It seems to me that "thug" is the new catch-all word that is used to appease our collective conscience when we consider what happened to Mike Brown, as in, "Well, he was a thug; what do you expect?" as though by reducing him to that, we can collectively wash our hands of the whole unpleasant ordeal. As if by committing to the narrative that he was an inherently dangerous "thug," we can render his death and the outrage it sparked irrelevant.

In the context of right now, our collective comfort with this term reeks of respectability politics and victim-blaming. It is loaded with judgment. People are using it to describe those "looting and rioting" in Ferguson, and feeling very righteous in doing so (because looting) without critically engaging in any of this…but then also applying it uncritically and imprecisely to any black person who isn't adhering to the sartorial or behavioral rules of polite (white) society, even when we have no idea whether that person is actually a "cruel or vicious ruffian, robber, or murderer."

So the problem for me is that it is a lazy, reductionist term that simply serves to allow distance between that person's humanity and our own. It's just a new and politically correct way to express contempt and disregard for people who aren't like us. Basically, it's the new, socially-acceptable "N" word, and I submit that we need to eradicate it from the discourse if we are ever going to be able to get anywhere.

"Black on black crime" is not a thing, either.

Here is a link to an article: 

http://www.msnbc.com/msnbc/rudy-giuliani-former-mayor-black-violence-reason-white-cops-ferguson

Here is what I think about it: 

CUE RANT.

Why is this still even a topic that comes up? I'm going to say what a lot of other people are saying right now but which apparently not everyone is willing to grapple with: so-called "Black-on-Black crime" is not a disparate thing that can be accurately delineated from any other kind of crime. It's just another spin designed to correlate Blackness with violence. What people who trot out this argument fail to also acknowledge is the fact that *intraracial* violence is the standard- white people kill white people, black people kill black people, etc. This happens organically, based largely on proximity (which because we are such a segregated nation often means people of similar race/class backgrounds live near one another) and is often over allocation of "resources" (whatever those resources may be). To divert attention from the issues at hand (which include police brutality, excessive force, racial profiling) by insisting that the REAL problem is intrinsic to the community which in this case is the one being victimized/targeted is just another way to deny culpability and enforce white supremacy. We NEVER TALK ABOUT- indeed have never even named- "White-on-White" crime. You know why? Because it too is not a thing even though pretty much all white-perpetrated violent crime is committed with other white people as victims, and even though WHITE PEOPLE ARE JUST AS VIOLENT AS ANYONE ELSE, INCLUDING BLACK PEOPLE, EVEN *gasp* BLACK MEN. The extent to which white privilege permeates our culture is glaringly reflected in this missing verbiage. That is to say, we don't call it "white-on-white" crime, ostensibly because we are individual snowflakes and so nothing we do reflects on other white people. We are not a collective or a monolith, but we are quite certain that black people are.

One woman quoted in this article tweeted accurately: "Dear Rudy Giuliani, when talking about police shootings of blacks, changing the topic to Bad Stuff Black Folks Do Too is beyond offensive."

**Also (sort of an aside but it's something I have been thinking about): If we are not a fundamentally white supremacist culture (as many would like to believe in modern times) then how is nothing made of the fact that basically all serial killers in the history of America are white men? Why is there no mass hysteria regarding how "scary" white men are, considering they are the ones most likely to commit planned, heinous, sadistic crimes? How do we collectively not recognize how intellectually disingenuous it is to name one thing but willfully ignore the correlative other thing? It's astonishing, really: the extent to which white supremacy is ingrained in our culture and how readily we accept it as truth, when really, one critical question begets another critical question and before you know it, the whole thing unravels and underneath is a giant pile of bullshit.

End rant.

Privilege.

If your life experience is such that you trust that you can reasonably expect the legal system to work on your behalf, and you have had mostly if not entirely pleasant experiences with police, and you have faith in the justice system to fairly grant you due process, and you expect that you will be treated with respect by most authority figures most of the time, and you think that generally speaking, America is a pretty friendly place to be, AND you can with some assurance assume most of the people you love have had similar life experiences, then I can understand why the events of the past couple of months are confusing if not downright mind-boggling.

For someone whose worldview is skewed by privilege- which is what this perspective is informed by whether we fully appreciate it or not- it doesn't make sense. And to be perfectly honest, I can probably say that all of the above is true of my own personal lived experience, and if I left it at that level of understanding, I might be just as confused as so many other people about what in the hell is this #‎FergusonOctober stuff about.

But I'm not, and here is why: I'm trying. I'm intentionally engaging in understanding and keeping updated on what is happening, and I'm reading articles and blog posts and status updates, and I'm talking with strangers in coffee shops, and I'm getting deep and uncomfortable with good friends, and I'm checking myself at every turn to make sure I'm at the very least paying attention so that I can speak in an informed way on this stuff, because that is a role that suits me.

I'm not saying you need to go out and rally. I just want you all to engage a little bit and challenge whatever preconceived notions you have. I get that many of us have police officers in our lives that we love, and that can make us feel torn on this matter. But it's entirely plausible that you can love and respect individual cops, and still recognize and acknowledge that the system- at every level- is skewed to the disadvantage of a large swath of the population, specifically young black men. That's what this is about.

I don't know what solution will feel right to you, but my solution personally is to intentionally look beyond my own lived experience to see what the people around me are experiencing. Getting out of my feelings of indignation or defensiveness and just bearing witness to what other people's lives have been like. Because injustice harms all of us in the long run. And because the daily lived experience of racism and oppression and injustice routinely wounds the spirits of people I deeply love. If someone you love is being harmed, and you don't say or do anything about it, you are complicit in the harm that befalls them. Personally, the worst thing someone could say about me is that I lacked the courage to speak up for what's right.

Anyone can feel free to message me, and I won't think your questions or concerns are silly; I'm telling you: I WANT to talk to people who don't get it for whatever reason, and try to help them connect the dots and begin to understand what all of this is about. Being white has a million advantages, most of which we are entirely unconscious of; one of them is the mobility to move amongst other white people and to say things with authority and without the risk of being delegitimized by accusations of "playing the race card".

I'd like to say I'm sorry for belaboring this stuff, but that would be disingenuous. I'm not even a little bit sorry. This is important, regardless of how you feel about the specific events. It matters that we keep talking about it. Black lives do matter, and that core belief is the heart and soul of the protests that are continuing to disrupt business as usual here in STL. Let me know if you want to talk about it.

The Ferguson Syllabus

Here are some helpful articles that may provide some context for the current events.


http://sociology.about.com/od/Current-Events-in-Sociological-Context/fl/The-Ferguson-Syllabus.htm

Sexism analogy.

Dear fellow women, 
You know that really frustrating feeling when you try to explain to a man how unsafe you feel sometimes just for being female, and how you have to always be cognizant of the fact that although not all men will, *all men can potentially hurt or sexually assault you*, and how when you walk down a street by yourself or even with other women, it can be scary just because you're a woman and thereby potentially a victim, and how mad/hurt/confused you get when you hear men or even other women victim-blaming rape survivors for wearing that outfit or for provoking him, saying things like "she was asking for it"

...and you know the man you're talking to is a good man, but he just doesn't really understand what you're saying or he argues with you because you're being dramatic or he undervalues your statements, which by the way, do actually reflect your personal experience in the world of being female, by refusing to accept your explanation of what life is like for you, saying things like "You know I'm not like that, so why are you getting mad at me" or "Not all men are rapists" or "You shouldn't be afraid of men" or "You're imagining things." or simply, "No, you're wrong."

You know that feeling? How helpless you feel to convince the man to put himself in your shoes and accept that this is your reality as a woman? And even though you know that part of why he doesn't want to hear it is because it somehow reflects on him and even though he knows he would never hurt you, it just makes him feel bad and defensive and he doesn't want to talk about it. And you end up feeling unheard or like maybe you're just being crazy or paranoid?

You know that feeling? Yes? So, extend it to others. Can you think of other times this sort of dismissive logic is used? Can you imagine how it makes other people feel when their personal experience of being marginalized or undervalued or targeted is discounted because the people hearing about it don't want to accept that people like them are doing 'bad things'? While not directly analogous, it might help to contextualize in a new way some of what is happening currently in our city/country/world. I hope it helps.

Love,
~amy~

Why it doesn't actually matter whether Darren Wilson is racist.

Dear fellow white people, 
It's me again. So, in light of recent conversations I've been having and witnessing, I'm going to try and guide the conversation to a deeper and more abstract place. I can't promise I'm going to do the best job at it, so have some patience as I attempt, perhaps clumsily, to tease out some of the additional issues that are coming up in the wake of the #Ferguson events. Remember that I, like you, am looking at things from the vantage point of my own "otherness" and so I can't rightfully claim any firsthand knowledge, and I am completely open to being corrected if my assessment strikes someone who does have firsthand knowledge of such things as inaccurate.

There has been a lot of talk around the question of whether Darren Wilson was acting from a place of racism or race-based prejudice and how (if) that informs both the legitimacy and ultimately the outcome of all of this. It's obviously true that we do not have "all the facts", which seems to be the biggest concern for a lot of people, especially those who know and love individual (ostensibly non-racist) cops. So I'll say maybe this is one of those "Yes, AND" conversations. Yes, I agree that we *don't* have any idea whether that particular cop holds any racist attitudes. Reserving judgment on that particular police officer isn't difficult for me personally. But that is because I don't think that Darren Wilson needed to be racist in any intentional way in order to hold unconscious bias that might lead him to be more quick to shoot an unarmed black kid. The bigger question is why he might -consciously or unconsciously-believe himself to be in greater harm because Mike was black, and how that could have influenced what happened. Regardless of Darren Wilson's PERSONAL CONSCIOUS FEELINGS about black people, the situation is still problematic because it speaks to a perception issue that IS directly linked to race.

There are several studies demonstrating this phenomenon (http://fairandimpartialpolicing.com/bias/)

Part of the larger systemic problem that people are angry about, and my understanding of at least a contributing factor to why this is continuing in Ferguson, is that black and brown men are statistically significantly more likely to be pulled over, detained, arrested, charged, sentenced, and incarcerated - AND/OR SHOT TO DEATH- than their white counterparts in otherwise similar circumstances. Ultimately, in the bigger and more abstract social justice picture, it's not really about Michael Brown or Darren Wilson and what happened specifically between those two men on that day. That situation is tragic and sad and confusing for all of us who are paying attention to it.

However, it seems that the events in Ferguson are also serving as a catalyst for a larger conversation around (among other things) how black men, particularly young urban black men, are perceived and responded to as if they are more dangerous than white men. For people who keep asking, whether out of genuine confusion or out of irritation at an age-old American problem that just won't go away, "Why are we talking about racism? The cop might not even be racist. Racism isn't the issue."

Let me be clear: racism IS the issue. In an abstract way, it's the WHOLE THING. Racism is the principle that drives the conversation around what happened and why it matters, regardless of the exact details of that day. I am struggling with how to take this idea from an intuitive, abstract place (which I totally understand can be confusing to people who aren't used to critically engaging in this way) and turn it into a digestible nugget of information that will make sense to people who are stuck on the idea that what is ultimately at issue is whether Darren Wilson is racist and/or clearly used excessive force in this particular case. I just don't think that is the issue at all and that it's a distraction from grappling with the bigger, uglier elephant in the room, which is the long legacy in America of devaluing, disenfranchising, and ultimately criminalizing black men. 

I have faith in you, fellow white people.

Dear fellow white people, 

For my white friends who think I am being dramatic in writing the posts I've been writing…please read this link (at the end of my post). It gave me goosebumps and brought tears to my eyes. The author does an infinitely better job than I could do at contextualizing what I've been trying to explain to you, because she is an actual person and this stuff is personal to her in a way that it simply cannot be for me. I have been writing the Racism posts this week because I think it is SO IMPORTANT as white Americans that we understand the effects of not only the structural and institutionalized racism of the systems in place, but more immediately our poor interpersonal race relations, on actual human beings. The offhanded remarks of clueless friends, both in real life and on social media, is causing real damage to real-life relationships. The lack of effort to deeply engage with uncomfortable realities is showing up all over social media, and I hope you know your black friends and acquaintances are seeing you not try. The lack of sensitivity so many white people are demonstrating in regard to the recent Ferguson events is damaging all of our current and potential future relationships with people who don't look like us. It is reinforcing the false social constructs of race and supporting the segregation St Louis is so (in)famous for. To truly show up as an ally, you have to stop saying unhelpful, intellectually lazy things both in your everyday life, and on this semi-public forum, and instead, maybe sit down with a black person that you know and have an ACTUAL CONVERSATION*.

*Please note: not every black person you know is going to have the patience or emotional bandwidth to take on these conversations, and you also have to be respectful of that. To some extent, it is your responsibility to learn this stuff, and it is not their responsibility to teach you. Minorities often find themselves doing a lot of the heavy lifting in these conversations, and it isn't really fair. Please note also that there is as much diversity among black people's opinions on all this as there is among whites'. One black person's opinion isn't all black people's opinions. You don't get to have one conversation and be all, "oh, I get it now!" Revisit the concept of white privilege if that doesn't make sense.

This is all REALLY HARD to understand for some of us, and I get that. Our vantage points as white Americans are so skewed by privilege that we often simply cannot see beyond it. But that's not an adequate excuse anymore, if it ever was. Given what's coming up for so many people right now, if we want to be decent human beings, we have to dig in and get our hands dirty and maybe even get our feelings hurt in order to even BEGIN to really understand what's happening and why it matters so much.

Before you dismiss me as suggesting it's "just that easy", I will say that I get that I have an advantage here over most of you. I have the benefit of having been raised by liberal, well-educated parents who didn't teach me bigotry, so I didn't have any unhelpful or narrow attitudes to unlearn. I have a Masters degree in Social Work, so my educational context is different than many of yours. I have the added personal, real life benefit of having been able to safely navigate meaningful dialogues about race with black people who love me and know my heart. But I am still a privileged white female from an all-white small town in Illinois. I still came from what many of you came from. There was literally not A SINGLE BLACK PERSON IN MY HIGH SCHOOL. Really. 

My point is that I wasn't just born knowing about race and class and privilege and being comfortable challenging people on it. I was, however, born caring about other humans, and so I made dismantling racism an intentional, brick-by-brick process of asking questions, listening, reading, thinking, talking. I had to do the work. You can do that too. I have faith in you.

http://www.xojane.com/issues/i-dont-know-how-to-talk-to-white-people-about-ferguson

Racism 102

Dear fellow white people, 

Now that you've had a chance to absorb Racism 101, let's move on to some slightly more difficult concepts. We can call it Racism 102: Next Level. 

1. Please note that it is generally not considered a compliment when a white person tells a black person how "articulate" they are. That's because it is often perceived as a thinly veiled way of saying, "Thank you for speaking in away that makes me comfortable." Regardless of your intent, it runs the risk of being interpreted as condescending, as though you are pleasantly surprised by the fact that this black person communicates clearly. At best, it falls under the category of "racially insensitive". I would recommend you just avoid this altogether.

2. Reverse racism is not a thing. I repeat: REVERSE RACISM IS NOT A THING. I've heard so much about this lately. In the simplest terms: racism is about power and oppression. Specifically, the power to oppress. Black people can certainly have biases and race-based prejudices, and can dislike or even hate you (or me) just for being white. And no, of course that doesn't feel good, because I'm a good person and it's not my fault I'm white and how could you hate me just for the color of my skin? …. (!!) Okay, now take the indignation you feel at the idea of that and recognize that it represents just the tiniest little tip of the giant ugly racist iceberg of what it's been like historically for black Americans, and remember that everybody knows white people did all of that. So, once again: black people can do any number of things to white people, but what they cannot do is be racist. Please stop referring to reverse racism, as it reflects a fundamental lack of understanding of what racism even means.

3. Being an ally is not the same thing as being a savior. No matter how well-intended, white folks approaching matters of race from the "savior" place is probably going to be interpreted as paternalistic, condescending, and distinctly unhelpful. Being an ally is about listening and responding to what the people you are endeavoring to advocate for actually want and need from you.

4. You should absolutely be present and protest alongside the people of Ferguson if that is what you feel called to do, but be open to the knowledge that it both is and isn't your fight. I know that's kind of confusing, but I just mean: be respectful. Don't make a spectacle of being there. Just be yourself. Nobody needs to you be anything else. You don't have to change the way you speak or dress or behave to be an effective ally. In fact, I'd venture a guess that it minimizes your credibility. If you don't normally use urban slang, for example, please don't start now. It's awkward for everybody.

5. You don't have to apologize or feel bad for being white. You didn't choose it any more than anyone else chose their skin color. Presumably none of us are directly responsible for the terrible, violent, and/or oppressive actions of any past or present fellow white-skinned humans. But we ARE responsible for doing what we can to dismantle racism when and where we can. Every day, not just in the wake of these recent events.

6. Active anti-racism includes addressing what I call the "tiny racisms" or "micro-aggressions" of other white people, and not just saving your activism for the more obviously offensive remarks or actions. It includes addressing - and not excusing- the well-meaning but ignorant. Please note: this can and should be done with compassion and understanding. Feel free to revisit Jay Smooth's instructional video on this topic, which I posted a couple of days ago to my page. Remember to make it about what the person DID, and not about what they ARE. Don't go around accusing people of "being racist". I can tell you now that that's never going to go well, because once someone goes to the defensive place, they can no longer hear you and the conversation becomes futile. **Message me if you need tips on how to navigate these sorts of conversations. (Seriously, I don't mind. I like talking about this stuff.)

7. Being actively anti-racist does not suggest that you hate white people or that you assume the perpetrators of racially insensitive actions are white supremacists in any intentional way. Much of the time, people really just don't know, and that has to be okay or we won't be able to have these important conversations. As active allies, we are uniquely positioned, and to some extent obligated, to interrupt racism where we see and hear it because we move so easily among other white people. Similarly, if someone tells you that something you've said or done was racially insensitive, instead of immediately getting defensive, please consider hearing them out. Holding each other accountable in a respectful way is the key.

Racism 101

Dear white people, 

Here is a lesson called "Racism 101" that I have created, because despite this being 2014, some of it bears repeating in light of recent events.

1. Please note this is my own opinion and perspective, and is not representative of any group or demographic.

2. Please note that because I'm white, probably nobody would assume or expect that I'm actually speaking for all white people, so #1 probably goes without saying.

3. Please note that that #1 & #2 are functions of a phenomenon known as White Privilege.

4. If you don't know what that means, that's okay. Lots of white people don't! That is also a function of white privilege. Because most of the people we are around are also white, we often don't even have to think about the fact that we are. We often simply equate being white with "normal". And when another white person does something we don't agree with, it is just a person doing something we don't agree with. It never reflects on or informs our attitudes about white people in general. This, too, is a function of white privilege.

5. If you'd like to better understand what that means, please read Peggy McIntosh's seminal piece "Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack", linked for your convenience here: White Privilege

6. If you begin a statement with the words, "I'm not racist, but ______", please note that anything following the word "but" is pretty much guaranteed to be racist or at the very least, racially insensitive. If you're truly not saying anything offensive, you don't have to qualify it as such. Please think carefully when making statements you feel necessary to justify preemptively.

7. Having a black friend does not automatically exempt you from being racist. It's nice that you have a black friend, and you might also actually not be racist. But those things are not mutually exclusive. It is not a way to justify whatever you might have said. See #6.

8. Being friends with a black person, or even a whole lot of black people, does not give you carte blanche to casually (in conversation, when addressing a person, or even when singing/rapping along to a song) use the N word. White men seem more likely to feel entitled to this terminology when addressing their black (or even white) male friends than women do. Regardless, I don't advise it. It simply isn't our word. In my personal opinion, there are no circumstances under which it is ever appropriate for white people to use it, and that includes the reappropriated version that ends in an "a" sound rather than an "er". Regardless of pronunciation, that word has an ugly historical context that should prohibit it from ever crossing your lips as a white person.

9. "Why can black people say it and I can't?" is not a sound question. The answer is: because everything. Please revisit all of the above, and also history.

10. When you accuse a person of color of "playing the race card", the presumed intent is to discredit their self-report of their lived experience, (which you will never share) and to let yourself off the hook for understanding it. If that is not your intention, please stop using this phrase. It's rude and lazy. Come up with another way to say, "I don't understand how this relates to race or could be perceived as racist." Nobody is going to be surprised to learn that you don't understand it, because white people never really have to wonder whether x or y outcome/treatment/action was racially-motivated. Because white privilege. 

11. I don't think you're stupid if any of this is new to you, or even if you disagree with some of it. Again, I am merely stating my opinions in the hopes that it will help ease some of the tension that's been spilling over due to the events in Ferguson of late. Please note that I am not an expert on race nor am I exempt from grappling with my own conscious and unconscious biases. I have had to ask a lot of questions and feel pretty uncomfortable, over many years, in order to even come to the rudimentary understanding I have of what some of this is really about. There are all kinds of things I don't know, and like anyone, I always have something more to learn. It is okay to not know something. It is okay to ask questions. It is okay to be ignorant, so long as you are making a sincere effort to understand and be educated. I hope this helps.