Can't Even

I'm sure you've noticed I haven't posted in a while. Raven, you know why. Now to share with all of you, readers. I have been pretty wrapped up in what's been going on in Baltimore the last week or so. For those who don't know let me sum up: Baltimore, MD broke into protests/riots after Freddie Gray, a young black man, died after a spinal injury sustained while in police custody. This is one incident in a string of incidents involving the police and the black community and a hefty dose of misuse of power.

I have been thinking a lot about the situation in Baltimore and across the country and I have a lot of feelings about the issue (really, issues). But I have so many it's difficult to decide where to start. And more paralyzing than that is the feeling that it isn't really my story to discuss or weigh in on. A lot of my white friends and coworkers have been saying in the last few weeks that they have a lot of feelings about the situation, but don't feel it is their place to comment or offer opinions as it's not "their issue/story". I wondered if maybe they were right. I don't have the faintest glimmer of an idea of what it means to be black in this country. Especially not a black male (surprise I'm neither of those things). Should I keep my thoughts and opinions to myself?

I've gone back and forth on the question for a while. I can see an argument to be made on both sides. It's certainly not right of me to weigh in as if I have all the information. Nor is it right to bring a solution to the table assuming a million others haven't been offered already (some exactly the same as what I would suggest). It would also be wrong to assume that my voice holds a ton of weight in the discussion. I haven't experienced a lot of the issues personally. I haven't even had many friends who've experienced them personally. 

But I also don't think it's right for me to stay silent. To believe that the issues surrounding Baltimore don't affect me would be incredibly short sighted and ultimately, naive. Every part of a society interacts with every other part of the same society. Just because I will not be harassed by the police because of my skin color doesn't mean police brutality doesn't affect me. Just because I will not suffer from racism directly, doesn't mean that living in a racist society* won't impact my life in profound and far-reaching ways.

I don't have a lot to say about the issue when you really boil it down. That's what I've been realizing this week. The most pressing thing I have to say is this: we all harbor prejudice from the everyday person on the street, to a sitting politician, to an on-duty cop. Not all of us are aware of those prejudices and that is the problem, not that we have. We are always going to make snap judgments about other people. We sort people and things and situations into groups to make our lives simpler and keep ourselves safe. It's natural to do and we shouldn't have to be ashamed that we do it because it's not a conscious choice. But we should try to understand those subconscious choices we make and not let them guide our conscious actions. Every cop should understand that they are quicker to shoot at a black target than a white one (seriously, there have been a million studies done). This isn't necessarily a bad thing unless it's a bias that goes unchecked. With training and awareness of the bias hopefully how quickly we react to an unarmed target will change. 

The other thing I have been thinking a lot since stories like these starting gaining a wider audience through the media is that getting defensive about the issue is the least productive thing you can do. A lot of reactions, especially from white folks, has been to turn the attention to black on black crime (usually gang related). Notably, shortly after the shooting of Michael Brown in Ferguson there was a high homicide weekend in Chicago and an outcry about ignoring black on black crime in favor of advancing a race argument about Ferguson's shooting. Stewart's "Daily Show" tackled the issue and uses almost the exact words that I have been turning over in my head for weeks: We should expect our police officers to hold themselves to higher standards than criminals. We should should expect police officers to behave better and with more, shall we say, legality, than a gang member.

Beyond those two, very prevalent thoughts, I have been wrestling with an almost happiness that events like these are forcing a conversation in this country about the way we view race and racism. I will never and can never be happy the events occurred and I think it is beyond upsetting that they had to occur to force this clearly necessary conversation, but I am also glad that people have reacted as they have. In most cases. I wish there was better, more fair, coverage of Baltimore that showed how people are pulling together and rallying around the issue in peace and as a community, rather than focusing on the outliers taking advantage of a chaotic situation. I think it is imperative that this country take a deep, hard look at its race problems and remind ourselves that the civil rights movement did not end in the 60s. We should still be fighting today. We should still be vigilant about racism and racist attitudes in ourselves and in our government because they haven't gone away. And they're never going to if we don't work through our own guilt and defensiveness to confront them. That is ultimately the reason I decided to post about it. It isn't my story. It's our story. We are all a part of it, whether we acknowledge it or not. And like we've all been hearing since elementary school, if you're not a part of the solution, you're a part of the problem.

So there you have it. My few coherent thoughts on the issues of Baltimore before I descend into blind rage and madness. I can feel it coming on now so I will bid you goodnight. And happy conversing.

*We can save the debate for whether or not we live in a racist society for another post. Suffice it to say that I feel like we do because everyone harbors racial prejudices and by and large the people in power are still white (and male - though that is a whole other can of worms.)