I think many white people, myself included, heard about #AltonSterling and #PhilandoCastile and thought, ‘Well, yes, #BlackLivesMatter, but what can I do about it? I’m not a killer. I don’t know any killer cops.’
Law enforcement officers who shoot black men do not appear in a vacuum. They don’t pop out of a police academy one day. They grow up in our households. They go to our Thanksgiving dinners. They are friends with our sons, our daughters, our spouses. We are part of the culture that creates these officers. Whenever we keep silent, we enable that culture. Whenever we excuse an ‘off-color’ comment, we enable that culture. Whenever we let stereotypes and fearmongering go unchallenged, we enable that culture.
And, yes, these officers answer our 911 calls. The officer who shot Alton Sterling has probably helped a whole lot of white people ‘feel safer.’ The officer who shot Philando Castile has probably ‘stopped by to make sure you’re doing okay.’ That doesn't change what they've done. What this tells us is that someone who you trust today is perfectly capable of murdering a Black person tomorrow.
When you glorify police officers who are ‘doing the right thing,’ when you share (staged) videos of cops giving hugs, you are building a culture that trusts a cop’s 'instincts' over video evidence. A culture that gives them paid administrative leave and then doesn’t press charges. A culture of grand juries who hand out ‘not guilty’ like candy and a culture of state prosecutors who spend more time talking about the Black people who were murdered than about the police officer they’re supposed to be proving guilty.
Agreeing that #BlackLivesMatter means more than passively following hashtags and ‘trying not to be racist.’
It means not calling the police. Yes, even when you feel unsafe. There are ways to feel safe that don’t involve risking a Black person’s life.
It means not moving into historically Black neighborhoods and displacing people who have lived their all their lives just to save a few bucks on rent.
It means not nodding along when someone calls an area ‘sketchy,' or 'urban.'
It means not mocking and then appropriating and then claiming African-American Vernacular English. Yes, even if you're gay. Yes, even if you learned it from a Black friend.
It means recognizing that ‘thugs’ don’t deserve to die any more than ‘law-abiding members of the community.’
It means recognizing that ‘law-abiding members of the community,’ who do everything right, are just as easily killed by police officers, who will get off just as free.
It means changing laws so that 1/3 of Black men don’t spend time in prison, and not letting other white people blame ‘absentee fathers.’
It means recognizing when you have been wrong and learning to be better instead of just giving up.
It means speaking up against people you love who are wrong.
It means helping other white people to change instead of writing them off or ‘keeping the peace.’ Yes, even if it ‘might hurt your career,’ or ‘make things awkward,’ or ‘split the family.’ White police officers have been splitting families apart for as long as the police have existed—it’s just that now we have video. White people who call the police when they see a Black person have been splitting families apart.
White people: I understand that it can feel weird to talk about this, whether it’s on Facebook or over the dining room table. Some time ago, I stopped posting about Black people who were killed by police, or trans women who were murdered, or mass shooting, or bombings, because I didn’t want my Facebook feed to be a litany of the dead. It felt like pandering. It felt like I was trying to score points. It felt like other people were better qualified, or more eloquent—what could I, as a white woman, possibly say that would help prevent one more Black death?
Part of being white in the age of #BlackLivesMatter is recognizing that Black lives matter more than white feelings. By remaining silent, we are building a white culture that passively accepts police murders of Black people, even if we feel bad about it. If we don’t think that we have anything to say, then we need to amplify the voices of Black people who DO have something to say. Share articles. Retweet. Learn. And for God’s sake, stop posting like nothing happened. Because it did happen, and continues to happen, every single day, whether you see a hashtag about it or not. One hashtag may not change the world. It won’t bring anyone back. But what it does is change the white culture of silence and our silent endorsement of the status quo.
#BlackLivesMatter
Law enforcement officers who shoot black men do not appear in a vacuum. They don’t pop out of a police academy one day. They grow up in our households. They go to our Thanksgiving dinners. They are friends with our sons, our daughters, our spouses. We are part of the culture that creates these officers. Whenever we keep silent, we enable that culture. Whenever we excuse an ‘off-color’ comment, we enable that culture. Whenever we let stereotypes and fearmongering go unchallenged, we enable that culture.
And, yes, these officers answer our 911 calls. The officer who shot Alton Sterling has probably helped a whole lot of white people ‘feel safer.’ The officer who shot Philando Castile has probably ‘stopped by to make sure you’re doing okay.’ That doesn't change what they've done. What this tells us is that someone who you trust today is perfectly capable of murdering a Black person tomorrow.
When you glorify police officers who are ‘doing the right thing,’ when you share (staged) videos of cops giving hugs, you are building a culture that trusts a cop’s 'instincts' over video evidence. A culture that gives them paid administrative leave and then doesn’t press charges. A culture of grand juries who hand out ‘not guilty’ like candy and a culture of state prosecutors who spend more time talking about the Black people who were murdered than about the police officer they’re supposed to be proving guilty.
Agreeing that #BlackLivesMatter means more than passively following hashtags and ‘trying not to be racist.’
It means not calling the police. Yes, even when you feel unsafe. There are ways to feel safe that don’t involve risking a Black person’s life.
It means not moving into historically Black neighborhoods and displacing people who have lived their all their lives just to save a few bucks on rent.
It means not nodding along when someone calls an area ‘sketchy,' or 'urban.'
It means not mocking and then appropriating and then claiming African-American Vernacular English. Yes, even if you're gay. Yes, even if you learned it from a Black friend.
It means recognizing that ‘thugs’ don’t deserve to die any more than ‘law-abiding members of the community.’
It means recognizing that ‘law-abiding members of the community,’ who do everything right, are just as easily killed by police officers, who will get off just as free.
It means changing laws so that 1/3 of Black men don’t spend time in prison, and not letting other white people blame ‘absentee fathers.’
It means recognizing when you have been wrong and learning to be better instead of just giving up.
It means speaking up against people you love who are wrong.
It means helping other white people to change instead of writing them off or ‘keeping the peace.’ Yes, even if it ‘might hurt your career,’ or ‘make things awkward,’ or ‘split the family.’ White police officers have been splitting families apart for as long as the police have existed—it’s just that now we have video. White people who call the police when they see a Black person have been splitting families apart.
White people: I understand that it can feel weird to talk about this, whether it’s on Facebook or over the dining room table. Some time ago, I stopped posting about Black people who were killed by police, or trans women who were murdered, or mass shooting, or bombings, because I didn’t want my Facebook feed to be a litany of the dead. It felt like pandering. It felt like I was trying to score points. It felt like other people were better qualified, or more eloquent—what could I, as a white woman, possibly say that would help prevent one more Black death?
Part of being white in the age of #BlackLivesMatter is recognizing that Black lives matter more than white feelings. By remaining silent, we are building a white culture that passively accepts police murders of Black people, even if we feel bad about it. If we don’t think that we have anything to say, then we need to amplify the voices of Black people who DO have something to say. Share articles. Retweet. Learn. And for God’s sake, stop posting like nothing happened. Because it did happen, and continues to happen, every single day, whether you see a hashtag about it or not. One hashtag may not change the world. It won’t bring anyone back. But what it does is change the white culture of silence and our silent endorsement of the status quo.
#BlackLivesMatter