There are a million ways to get it wrong. Don’t let that stop you.
I am a White woman in the United States. My work, in part, addresses systemic inequality. Yet despite years of experience having conversations around race….
This document lay open on my computer for over a week. Written and revised and rewritten again. “What’s most important to say? Is my tone appropriate? Do I sound condescending or judgy? What’s the perfect balance of empathy, humility and directness?”
Meanwhile, White colleagues, clients and friends reached out. Asking me what to do. I heard countless variations on the same fear:
I’m White. I’m sickened by what has happened. I want this to stop. I want to be useful. …and…
I don’t know the best way to help. I’m afraid I’ll say the wrong thing. I’ll be misunderstood. I’ll unintentionally hurt someone, make them feel attacked or uncomfortable. I want to speak my mind, but I don’t want to come across as judgmental and shaming. I’ll reveal my ignorance. Feel embarrassed. Humiliated.
These thoughts can paralyze. We can’t let them…because
The silence, ignorance and inaction of good White people brought us to this moment.
My White sisters, brothers and others: this one’s for you.
There is no way to get it right. There are a million ways to get it wrong.
You will get it wrong. Over and over. I speak from experience. Our education on racial history is painfully inadequate. Our knowledge of the challenges facing the Black community is cursory at best. We understand the Black experience through a lens of whiteness.
We’re not bigots. We have Black friends. We believe in racial equality.
That doesn’t matter. Unless you’ve been paying close attention for a long time, you don’t understand.
Most of us are beginners. Like most beginners, we’re going to make a lot of mistakes. Learning is messy and sometimes embarrassing.
After years studying the roots of inequality and working with thousands of people in organizations, here’s what I know: The fear of getting it wrong is mostly ego. It’s rooted in a desire to preserve our identity as good people. It’s NOT helpful. Because wanting to look good often means looking away.
There’s only one way to truly get it WRONG: Failing to listen, learn and act.
Because if you’re not doing something tangible, you’re racist.
Harsh. Right? I need to say it unfiltered. If you’ve read this far, you mean well. You don’t carry personal animus toward people of other races. That’s good. That means you’re not a bigot. You can still be part of upholding a system that harms people you care about.
So, don’t worry about making embarrassing mistakes. You’ll survive. I have. And trust me, I’ve made my share of dumb mistakes. You’ll learn and grow. You’ll probably be forgiven. If you’re not…well…does it matter?
There’s work to be done. And it’s our work. These are my thoughts on where to start.
Conversations that don’t matter:
Looting — Let’s all agree. Looting isn’t helpful. Some of us think it’s an understandable expression of rage. Some of us don’t. Doesn’t matter. It’s an irrelevant distraction to the issue. People working for change aren’t looting and they’re not responsible for stopping it. The way we stop looting is to extend dignity, belonging and opportunity. Because no one ever said, “I feel safe and valued. The future’s looking good. Think I’ll burn it down.”
Outrage — Of course, attend peaceful protests and post on social media. Outrage sends a signal. But outrage is cheap. Don’t conflate expressing anger and solidarity with being a responsible citizen. Civic engagement means educating yourself on the issues that matter, supporting specific solutions, and holding public officials accountable. It’s not sexy. It doesn’t feel emotionally cathartic. It’s often boring and inconvenient. It gets real shit done.
Whether we’re good people — Conversations around race will trigger you. Guaranteed. You’ll feel unfairly judged. Sometimes you might be. You’ll disagree or have a different point of view. In those moments, it’s tempting to deflect instead of reflect.
Ask yourself what’s most important. Winning or learning? You don’t have to agree or follow blindly. But it’s useful to take a long pause before arguing with the perspective of a person of color. They may be misguided. It’s possible you’re the unfortunate recipient of misplaced anger. More often, there’s valuable truth.
Actions that do matter:
Educate yourself — Listen. Read books. Watch television and movies dealing with themes of race. Follow African American thought leaders on social media. Listen to their podcasts and TED talks. An excellent starting place is 13th, director Ava DuVernay’s stunning documentary on racial inequality in the United States, made available here by Netflix outside their paywall.
Pro tip: Don’t ask Black people to educate you. Do your homework. Helping White people understand how the system is broken is emotionally and mentally exhausting. And it’s not their job. When a Black person does share their experience, hold it with care and listen deeply. It’s a gift. In that moment, the desire to look good is the least important agenda item.
Speak up — If you hear other White people say things that are racist or uninformed, whether intentional or out of ignorance, say something. It doesn’t need to be confrontational. A resolute and heartfelt viewpoint, stated gently and compassionately, can have lasting effect. It may not be apparent in the moment, but the tone you set empowers others to speak up. And don’t limit yourself to racism. Talk about issues and policies and history that matters. When you speak it, you normalize it.
Get involved — Do something tangible. Bonus points if the work isn’t visible or exciting. The most important work often isn’t.
If you want to start where there’s high impact, get active in local and regional politics. Learn about the issues that disproportionately affect people of color: policing, criminal justice (bail, sentencing, prison labor, solitary confinement), access to quality education, voter suppression, access to capital, etc. Ask elected officials and candidates about their stances. Propose and advocate for better, fairer policy. Vote.
If politics isn’t your thing, donate money and time to groups that work for racial justice. (Still vote)
If groups aren’t your thing, identify a person or business you can support. Tutor a young person. Design an internship. Contribute to an educational fund. Shop at Black-owned businesses.
Does your employer have a diversity program? Participate in it. Is it mostly window-dressing? Black people can’t safely call that out. You can.
Get creative. Are you a lawyer, web designer, doctor, coder, chef, artist? Donate your skills where they make a difference.
There are a million ways to get it wrong…and just as many to do something right.
I’ll continue to get it wrong and to get it right. I probably did both in this article. Perfection isn’t the point. Change is.
The lives and dignity of our Black sisters and brothers depend on it.
