On being unqualified, but having a voice anyway
A few weeks ago, I was at a restaurant with a friend, chatting and having a drink, when a woman collapsed just a few feet from our table. I didn’t see what direction she came from, just that she landed with a thud, and she most certainly was not moving. My brain was working overdrive: “Should I go over there?” “Why isn’t she moving?” “Why aren’t the people she’s with running over?” “Didn’t I just read about a change in CPR standards?”
Within fifteen seconds or so, management had run over and called 911. The woman came back to consciousness and seemed confused, maybe drunk, but, in any case, not fatally injured like we first thought. We left shortly thereafter, my friend and I both debriefing but unable to deny the fact that we did nothing. We were completely stunned into silence as we sat, mouths agape (our very own Force Majeure moment).
I’m not a doctor, and only mildly paid attention to CPR training in High School, so I wasn’t all that surprised or ashamed that when thrust into that situation, I wasn’t the one to leap from my chair and start doing mouth-to-mouth. But during those crucial seconds, my overriding thought (and the reason I felt complacent to just sit and wait for someone to take action was): I’m not qualified to help.
The same thought keeps creeping into my mind over the past few days, as I see the sickening tragedies that keep happening, won’t stop. That two black men would be shot dead, without reason, by the forces purportedly protecting us. That peaceful protestors would be arrested. That the hatred comes from all sources, Republican leaders and so many citizens being so unabashedly racist publicly.
These past few days, I’ve been stunned into silence again. My general (and yes, cowardly) feeling has been I’m not qualified to help. I can’t possibly understand what the black community is feeling, and voicing my sorrow for them & my opinion isn’t going to help anyone.
I’m a white woman of privilege, and I haven’t read enough articles, point-and-counterpoints, I don’t have enough black friends, I haven’t had enough experiences that would help me understand the sickness that is infecting our country to have and speak an opinion and do something.
I’m not qualified to help.
But this problem is too big to accept sitting on the sidelines, cheering on the people who can make change. I’m the first to admit that I don’t know what would help. But I know that feeling unqualified and complacent to wait to be told what to do isn’t acceptable. And that feeling separate, ashamed, but uninvolved, is contributing to the divide that is worsening. That silence isn’t an option, that supportive white voices are welcome, even though it’s so complicated, so fraught, is bubbling up:
Something more is required of us now — what?
“I think we all know, deep down, that something more is required of us now. This truth is difficult to face because it’s inconvenient and deeply unsettling. And yet silence isn’t an option…I have come to believe that truly transformative change depends more on thoughtful creation of new ways of being than reflexive reactions to the old. What is happening now is very, very old.”
My White Boss Talked about Race in America and This is What Happened
“The fact that a White colleague in a work setting made it a point to make a point about racial injustice in America and acknowledge the Black community’s pain, hurt, and anger over it…the fact that she didn’t just act like today was “business as usual” — that meant more to me than any free lunches, office perks, or holiday bonuses ever could.”
It should go without saying that all of us support #blacklivesmatter, but in a time so divided, nothing goes without saying. And so we must say it.
We cannot let fear of backlash or misinterpretation of our words be a reason not to speak at all (a fear that’s even more pronounced for me, working in brand voice and dealing with backlash everyday).
We cannot wait until we have something new or smart or self-serving to say on an issue before we speak out in support of it.
We cannot hide behind humor and sarcasm (although it is the internet’s default) because we don’t want to face the fact that this situation is deadly serious.
We cannot comfort ourselves that being liberal & voting the correct way to support the issues we care about is enough.
I know that saying “I’m sorry, and I care so much,” isn’t much, but it’s better than silence.
Here’s to not feeling helpless anymore, listening with open ears for ways to help, and to always, always, always, shouting that #BlackLivesMatter.
