A Little History...

I think the only way to talk about racism without sounding like you’re attacking anyone is to address one’s own racist thoughts. Because we have them. Because I have them. If you asked my friends, both of color and white, they would most likely tell you that I’m not racist. Except for my friend Jacky. She would probably tell you that I’m a “recovering racist”; someone who’s aware of her own racist tendencies and thoughts and is actively working to address and alter them. And I’m inclined to agree with her.

Grad school was the first time I really addressed my own racist inclinations. It was in a multicultural class that I can’t really tell you much about today. I don’t remember the question the professor asked us and I don’t remember what we were reading, and I think the conversation may have followed a documentary called The Color of Fear. But I do remember the conversation was life changing. My cohort of fellow social work students sat in a giant circle in the classroom all looking at each other and discussing (I guess) our experiences with racism. When it was my turn to talk, I shared this story…

“I was working at starbucks last night, the closing shift. It was getting late and we were starting to clean up. I was behind the register when the bell signaling that someone was coming through the door rang. I looked up and it was a black man in a sweatshirt with the hood pulled up and gloves on. And my initial thought was, “I don’t know what to do if he pulls a gun”. He walked to the counter as I slightly panicked and tried to not look like I was slightly panicking, as my mind raced through what I was supposed to do if we got robbed and wondering why no one had ever talked to us about what to do if we got robbed. And then he got to the counter and ordered a frappaccino. And paid for it. And I felt relief and then shame.”

Why was my initial thought when this man walked through the door that I was going to get robbed? I started crying as I shared the story with my classmates. I could have argued with myself that it was not the color of his skin, but the way he was dressed. But when I asked myself if a young white man in a hoodie walked into my starbucks late at night would I have come to the same conclusion? The answer was a resounding, “No”. I admitted to myself and to my classmates that as much as I didn’t want these thoughts, I a Master of Social Work candidate, who hates racism and loves social justice, was still fighting racist thoughts.

Which brings me back to today. 4-5 years later, I still find myself with these ridiculous racist thoughts popping up in my head. So many people think we live in a post-racist world. That racism doesn’t affect individual’s futures and opportunities or the way we interact with each other. But I think if we’re honest with ourselves, we’ll discover like I did, that at best we’re recovering racists. Which I think is a good place to start. Like any good 12 step program, admitting your problem is the first step.