In the Shadows
The Power of Silence
What happens when you find out the ones you rely on for comfort and support, are secretly aligned with those that have no regard for your well-being? This unexpected, but common narrative became a reality for me during this past election; my trust in others vanished, and left me with significant doubt on who to trust. I felt like anyone could be hiding values that they’re too scared to reveal in order to fly under the racist radar. In a society where division forces us to choose a side, the true colors of some are openly exhibited, while others hide in the shadows out of fear for the repercussions. In my experience, this phenomena has ultimately led to torn relationships and broken trust.
With the extreme tension and societal divide that the Presidential Election brought, the atmosphere in my house reeked of anxiousness and uncertainty, as none of us have spoken about our own political beliefs with each other before. I knew that some of my roommates, including my best friend, had voted Republican in the 2016 election. However, with Trump’s corrupt and authoritarian presidency, I thought that there was a good chance their votes would be different this time around. There were various questions running through my head, but “Who’s voting for the Republican?,” was the one that I needed closure with. My biggest fear came true on Election Day, as I found that my best friend voted for Trump yet again.
The worst-case scenario that I could imagine came true on an early Tuesday afternoon, minutes before my 3-hour Zoom class. A simple text turned into verbal warfare as I accused his silence as compliance with racial injustice and also a way to hide a shameful vote. I hoped that he would correct me and I prayed to look like a fool by having these aggressive accusations shot down. After various accusations, I eventually just cut to the chase and asked, “Did you really vote for Trump?”.
Tell me I’m wrong. Disagree with what I am assuming. Reject my accusation. Don’t tell me you did it. Please God, don’t do this to me. I already lost a family member this week, I don’t want to lose a brother. Don’t say what I think you’re going to say.
After what felt like hours of pressing the idea that he voted for Trump, my best friend never corrected me or tried to clarify what was going through my mind. With disbelief and denial flooding my body, I hoped that somehow, someway, this was all a huge misunderstanding.
My world felt like it had just frozen in time, but simultaneously was engulfed in flames, as I felt my face was burning from ear to ear. All the meetings on racial injustice, the conversations on discrimination, his questions that I answered on social inequality, and the lack of support towards the Black community from the President. It all felt like it was for nothing. Trust that was built off of years of friendship, and a bond that felt like it could withstand anything. Gone, with a single conversation.
After hours of aggressive conversation and accusatory remarks, it finally sunk in that this situation was in-fact all real. It happened. Was I ready to cut off one of the few people that I considered family just because of a vote? Or was our friendship strong enough to withstand one of the most controversial situations anyone could think of?
Being a brown-skinned kid with curly hair brings challenges and oppressive forces when you want to partake in one of the whitest sports: swimming. While I have countless scenarios of the oppressive microaggressions that I faced being a black swimmer, the instance that I remember the most came from my idol. Being the grandson of a man who was born and raised in the South under parents who were sharecroppers, he wasn’t very supportive of me pursuing a sport that he believed my genetics would prohibit me from participating in. “Why are you trying to swim? You know you can’t do it. You know we have heavy bones.”
While it hurt to receive pushback from someone I loved and thrived off their pride that they had with me, my dad pulled me aside and let me know exactly why my grandfather did not give me his stamp of approval. In order to prevent slaves from swimming away from their plantations, my grandfather was raised with the false ideology that black people couldn’t swim because our genetics cause us to have heavy bones. For the entirety of my grandfather’s life, this racist lie not only affected him, but affected me as well in the way that he felt towards his quarter-black grandson’s passion. So even before I was ever able to get into a pool, my grandpa believed that any attempt to pursue this newfound path of mine would ultimatley lead to my personal perish.
Coming to Cal, I felt very much so out of my comfort zone due to leaving my family, who I hold very close to my heart. It’s not a shot in the dark to claim that I was one of those kids who was very much so raised in a social bubble. I had very few friends growing up because I already was extremely close with my family, therefore eliminating that desire to enlarge my small circle. With that being said, I also wasn’t that kid who walked the halls by himself, as I had many acquaintances, but it was very difficult for me to establish an authentic friendship.
My hesitation to establish a genuine relationship with others, outside of my family, developed as time went on. As long as I could remember, my father would always preach to me that due to the skin that I was born in, being very selective with who to truly trust and confide with was a necessity. While many may desire to have this kind of mindset and attitude towards others to establish a sense of superiority, or maintain their ego, events and circumstances in my life practically forced me to adopt this mindset towards myself and others.
I was raised in a small, country-like town called Morgan Hill, where white people made up a large majority of the population. With this atmosphere, I could literally count the amount of black people I met throughout my childhood, on one hand. It was hard for me to truly connect with others, as I felt the relationships that were existent were completely artificial, or there was a lack of similarities with cultural backgrounds to truly bond over. With these circumstances already in place, my passion for swimming did not help provide that sense of community that all of my white acquaintances had genuinely established and maintained with each other for years. Even during these somewhat lonesome times, I still preferred to confide in the authentic sense of community that I had with my family, rather than attempt to create a relationship with others that I knew would fall through, the second adversity presented itself.
So, when I chose to commit to Cal, I felt like I was joining a unified and well-established University that was parallel with my personal beliefs, alongside with a swim team that was radiating the concept of brotherhood the second I stepped on campus. This sense of brotherhood and acceptance was very important for me in my process of choosing which college to attend. I am a brown kid with curly hair, trying to make it in a white sport. I felt like I finally had a group away from home to support me through these micro aggressions and oppressive ideologies being a black swimmer.
I knew that being at Cal would help provide that type of community that I had always felt was absent in my life, but little did I know that this opportunity would bring someone in my life that I consider to be as close as a brother. My freshman year roommate was a white guy from a different part of the country, but the second we met, we clicked and were as close as could be. Even with the extreme cultural differences, we got closer everyday and our friendship became more of a brotherhood. This connection encouraged me to open up more and let others in, resulting in the establishment of the community that I feel I truly have here at Cal. My roommate made me realize that my blackness does not mean that I am not compatible with anyone from different backgrounds. Instead, our differences became strengths, exposing us to cultures that we had never truly experienced.
We were together through both of our toughest times, providing that backbone that I previously only felt I had with my family. When my grandfather passed 3 weeks ago, and I locked myself in my room, he was the only one who was persistent enough to make sure I was okay. After refusing to give up on me regardless of my pushback, we went to go get breakfast and just talked for hours. He helped me cope with the pain that I had, knowing I had just lost someone I hold so close to my heart.
With as strong of a connection as this was, all of these strong moments and memories were put in jeopardy as this year’s election day arrived. My opinions on the current President have always been put on display with my roommates, so it was never a secret with who I voted for this past election. Sadly, this was not the same story for my five other roommates, as their opinions were never truly brought to my attention due to a lack of communication regarding politics. I knew that my best friend had previously voted for Trump in the 2016 election, but with the events that had occurred over the past 3 ½ years, I thought for sure that his vote would not be the same as it was last election.
Being 1 of 2 black swimmers on our team, after the murder of George Floyd, myself and my other black teammate were asked to speak about racial injustice and discrimination to our teammates. Even with no pay, or incentives, we jumped at the idea of doing so because we felt like we could make some type of difference in having this uncomfortable conversation(s) with our white teammates. Having this opportunity to spread knowledge on such an important topic that has been ignored, and pushed to the side was more valuable than any amount of money or benefits that we could’ve received. We spoke about how complicity is no longer a neutral stance in this fight for social injustice, rather it powers the oppressor, and how the current President of the United States has played a role in the emergence of racism that the country has attempted to hide.
After the 2 hour-long talk with the entirety of the team, my best friend texted me, asking me to go further in depth with what we spoke about during the meeting. He wanted to get a better understanding of what was, and is happening in this country to people who look like me. This pursuit of wanting to truly understand and ultimately help in the fight against racial injustice, solidified my confidence with my decisions as I considered this man a brother. Showing me that regardless of his background, he was willing to take the time to understand and fight for what was right. With those events taking place and numerous more conversations revolving around social justice occurring as time went on, I knew that my best friend would not vote for the oppressive authoritarian to stay in the White House.
My grandfather passed away during the time that my house had voted together, so I was home with my family, missing out on those political conversations that my roommates shared with each other. So, when I came back, the topic of voting came up and I asked who everyone voted for. As soon as I did, my best friend left the room to answer his girlfriend’s call and the two other roommates that were left in the room, told me they voted for the Green Party candidate.
I was internally shocked at first, feeling many emotions. Happiness that a vote for Trump was not in the picture. Angry because I felt like my talks of complicity did not truly resonate with the people I perceived as my best friends. Betrayal because I felt my roommates did not choose to help make that push for change. I immediately walked up to my room as soon as it was not socially awkward to do so and just sat there in silence, reflecting on what had just happened. I chose to be optimistic about the situation and held onto the fact that at least the vote wasn’t for Trump. “It could’ve been way worse,” is what kept me from absolutely losing my shit. Already dealing with a broken heart from the loss of my grandfather, I kept my mouth shut as an attempt to keep my community that I had tried so hard to create, intact.
With my anger and feelings of betrayal growing in my chest, my silence lasted for 2 more days until I grew a pair and decided to speak my mind to the person I considered my best friend. I sat on my phone and conducted a five paragraph text that laid out all of the emotions I was feeling the past few days, so long that you had to click on the text to scroll through the entirety of it. At the end of my text, I told him I was not mad at him, but felt more disappointed and betrayed with the decision to vote third party, but through it all, I didn’t want political views to hinder our relationship.
After waiting for a reply for a couple minutes, he finally responded, telling me he feels the same and also emphasized the importance of not letting political views come between us. Then I read the rest. He asked me why I thought he voted for a third party and I told him that’s what I heard from our other roommate. He instantly shot me down, creating suspicion for myself, but also giving me that glimmer of hope that he in fact did vote for Biden. Beating around the bush, I asked if my dream scenario was in fact true and as I predicted in the back of my head, that also was not true. Out of anger, I accused him of voting for the other major candidate and waited for what felt like hours for a response, and that’s when he broke the news to me.
I immediately lashed out and reminded him of what we discussed for hours upon hours regarding social injustice and how the President has encouraged racism through his oppressive behavior. Yelled at him and told him he doesn’t care about me, my family, or anyone else that looks like us.
For hours, texting back and forth, getting more enraged as he tried to tell me that Trump isn’t racist because he marked the KKK as a domestic terror group and also due to the empty promise he made that was the Platinum Plan. Telling me that he thinks Trump is corrupt, but Biden is ten times more corrupt. Telling me how Trump’s policies are more appealing than that which Biden is promoting. No matter what kind of reasoning he gave to me for his decision, I was set on my views, and so was he.
As he continued to give reasoning for his vote, I realized that a majority of it had to do with how Trump’s policies would benefit him. As I contemplated what he was saying, I couldn’t help but feel like as long as his pockets were in good shape, racism that myself, my family members, and others in the Black community was not a dealbreaker for a vote. What frustrated me the most is the fact that I knew that he was very well aware of these problems because the conversations and meetings we had emphasized these exact issues. I had finally come face to face with someone who shared the same values as the other side of America and the worst part about it was that I was completely blindsided.
So, now what? I feel like after the reality of the event set in, I was faced with a difficult decision; Do I shut my best friend out of my life because of his vote, or do I try and work past this? I felt like this decision forced me to choose between maintaining my morals, or keep my friendship intact. I sat in my 3 hour zoom class and tried to think of the right thing to do. I always said that I would be quick to cut ties if anyone I knew had voted for Trump, but actually being in the situation makes all these self-proclaimed decisions very difficult. How could I just lose my best friend in the span of an hour, all because of a vote? But how could someone who claims to be my best friend, vote for me and my loved ones’ oppressor?
I went back and forth with these troubling thoughts for a while for about three hours. At this point, I started to literally feel sick to my stomach, feeling like I lost a huge part of my community, and another piece of my family.
After sitting alone in my room distraught for hours, I decided that I wanted to discuss this matter with my roommate before I made any decisions on how to handle our tainted relationship. With a huge knot in my stomach, I finally got out of my seat, walked downstairs, knocked on his door, and entered a room that felt like it would soon be a battleground if this decision to talk to him went wrong.
I sat down in the chair across from him, and after the awkward “hey,” knowing we had just been going for each other’s throats a few hours ago over text. I told him that I don’t want our relationship to be completely dismantled by this situation and wanted to talk things out. We both took turns giving our sides of the situation, but this time it was in a respectful, calmer manner, rather than heated verbal exchanges. He told me about how he truly cares about the fight for racial justice, and that this was more of an economic decision for him.
As I tried to work past this sticky situation, I couldn’t help but think about if I was making the right decision in trying to repair our friendship. This situation was extremely sticky because on one hand, I do know he cares to some extent about social injustice due to the conversations he asked me to have with him. Yet on the other hand, I had doubt in my mind about what he was saying because I felt like his actions did not match his words.
We tried to mend this relationship for hours, and after having an extensive conversation that felt like more like some type of marriage counseling, we dapped each other up and let each other know that we’re brothers through it all.
Now, I know that a complex situation like this would be handled differently by others if they were in my shoes, and I am not saying that people should make the decision that I did to fix our friendship. I’m not writing this in hopes of giving advice, or introducing the ideology that we all need to forcefully stand together and live with our differences. I’m writing this because I wanted to share an experience that taught me more in four hours, than any other situation in my life had. While I may forgive, I will never forget, but in a world where differences are polarizing the country, I wanted to make peace and progress with my brother. And I hope that one day, this country will work to do the same.
