There Is No Monster Under the Bed: Let’s Face Our Fears of Critical Race Theory

Lindsay Messoline
Educate.

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We have all witnessed children react to something that frightens them by closing their eyes and plugging their ears. They feel as though they’ve successfully protected themselves and are no longer in danger; they have eliminated the existence of that which scares them. As adults, we know better. We see their desire to hide from their fear but recognize that closing their eyes and plugging their ears does absolutely nothing to eliminate the perceived threat. Whatever scares them is still there.

As white people in America, we are being challenged to learn about, listen to and, for once, center the experience of others in this country. A heartfelt and anguished invitation is extended to us, begging us to acknowledge the pain that has been caused. To atone for sins that continue to wreak havoc on the lives of marginalized people, even sins we sometimes didn’t know were being committed. And yet we stand here, like children, closing our eyes as tightly as possible, covering our ears, hoping and praying that this eliminates the existence of what frightens us most: the pain in the truth.

Ted Cruz has famously dismissed Critical Race Theory by saying it, “teaches that every white person is a racist.” Ibram X. Kendi reminded us recently that Critical Race Theory was called a “monstrous evil” by Pat Robertson. Education Week has cited that as of June 29, twenty-six states have introduced legislation to limit the way we teach about racism and sexism in our classrooms (and some have banned the conversation altogether). By labeling it a big ugly monster, we have successfully given ourselves a reason to shut our eyes and cover our ears.

Perhaps one of the greatest examples of white privilege is the fact that we can plug our ears. We can close our eyes. And we have for centuries. What’s more, the law is on our side to do so. But, like the barking dog or loud siren that frightens the child, the truth, the real “monstrous evil”, is still there. Systemic racism and its effects are still there. No amount of ignoring changes the reality of where we’ve been or where we are today.

White people invented race, and we’ve benefited greatly from this invention. Now, those who have experienced harm, discrimination and death as a result of our invention want to talk about it. Because we no longer stand to gain anything from this conversation, we simply pretend the concept of race, and all its horrific effects, aren’t there.

Though we are acting like children by ignoring our fear, the children still have us beat in one aspect. They admit they are afraid. They recognize that they are scared. In this one way, we should be like them. We should acknowledge that we are only working so hard to ban this conversation because we are terrified of it. Upon admitting our fear, we could realize that we have faced other scary and painful things before. We have lived full lives, lives that have included suffering in some kind of way. And we’ve confronted that pain, that fear. We have worked through difficult situations. We have come through agony to become a stronger, better version of ourselves.

Think of any painful event you have faced. Think of the first time someone pushed you on the playground, that awkward growth spurt in junior high, the first major failure you had as a young adult, the loss of your first love, the painful process to have your child, that divorce that rocked you to your core, that job with that horrible boss, that illness that almost destroyed you. Pain is a part of growing. And growing is always good.

Ask yourself and reflect: How do you feel having survived what you did? What is better about your life now? Revel in the pride and hard work you’ve done to come through pain in the past. Would you really want to go back to the place before the painful event? Would you want to unlearn the lessons or un-receive the blessings that occurred as a result? How much stronger are you now that you are on the healing side of the pain?

The road that directly follows painful events has never been easy. It is one that requires honest and arduous work. It requires reflection, atonement, strength, and facing our fears. All of us, in some way, have experienced the benefits and rewards that come from walking that path. We have learned new things and have been able to handle the following challenges life brings us in a more effective and powerful way. We look back and think, “wow, I can’t believe I was strong enough to do that.” And yet, we were. And we are. And our lives are far better because of it.

That is the road ahead of us now as a country. We can have painful discussions, we can admit our fear, we can work through it, face it, acknowledge it, atone for it, deal with it, and best of all, heal from it. We have that choice. And only we can make it happen. We, as white people, do not have to be that child, so afraid of reality, so afraid of what it will challenge us to do. We are adults who have accomplished, achieved, overcome, become so much. If we can fight through life’s pain and fear as individuals, and still stand tall, imagine what is possible for us as a nation. Envision that better, stronger, more honest America. Let’s unplug your ears, open our eyes, and work to make that vision a reality. We certainly will all be better for it.

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Lindsay Messoline
Educate.

Teacher with 20-year career of working with learners from marginalized and minoritized communities.