A couple of years ago, I started a Master’s of Social Work program. I was shocked by what I found in the first few courses. More accurately, I was shocked that it had taken getting to a master’s level of education before I came across the information presented. How could this be the first time that I had encountered the truth about racism, privilege, and anti-oppressive practice? I mean of course I had known about racism and privilege, but in a vague, imprecise way. I had never encountered the idea of anti-oppressive practice. These are concepts that we should be teaching from kindergarten onward. Every politician, journalist, teacher, medical professional, lawyer, and business person should have to take a course in anti-oppressive practice. And yet, it took a specialized program at the post-graduate level to come across the basic history of how racism got to where it is today.
Some of the bigger learnings that really struck me were the effects of slavery and land ownership laws that persist today, the effects of colonialism and capitalism, and the pervasive impact of implicit bias and systemic racism. We read studies where children as young as six were showing preference for white dolls, labeling the white dolls as ‘good’ and the Black dolls as ‘bad’. This was true for children of diverse cultures, even the Black children, who labeled the Black dolls as bad, but also correctly identified them as the dolls that looked like them. Heartbreaking.
One of the topics of discussion that came up in that program, and that I have heard bantered around again recently, especially in the wake of George Floyd’s death, is what white people should be doing about racism, privilege, and white fragility. There are many conflicting views on this topic, with many ideas but little consensus, especially with regard to speaking out. Some are of the opinion that it is the responsibility of privileged individuals to speak out on behalf of those who are marginalized. Others believe that those with privilege should consciously take up less space, leaving room for those who know first-hand what they need – to hold space for marginalized groups to speak out on their own behalf. The idea is that those with voice who are used to having a platform have taken up enough space and that it is important that we hear from those who have been silenced or spoken over for way too long. Proponents of this view believe that the best thing white folks can do right now is to LISTEN and get out of the way.
I’ve thought a lot about this issue in the last week, as my Facebook feed has become full of comments and shares, and I’d like to weigh in on it. I am listening, and I’m willing to be corrected. I am stepping out imperfectly, open to feedback. This is where I am on my journey toward effective allyship.
I think the question of speak up or shut up depends very much on the circumstances. If I am sitting at a table with a variety of people, some of whom are marginalized in areas where I hold privilege, that’s a good time to shut up and listen. That’s a time to hear and magnify the words of people who have first-hand experience of the problem and know what they need to heal their own communities. That is a time for me to listen and follow the lead of the people I want to ally with.
But I think that when I have a platform that marginalized people might not have access to, I have a responsibility to speak out. For people who aren’t yet ready to embrace the voices of those they aren’t used to hearing, I feel I have a responsibility to speak in a more familiar voice – to speak as a peer, providing leadership within the safety of a friendship, a family relationship, a classroom, or even an institution. My silence in those moments is more harmful than taking space, because I leave space for people to argue AGAINST the cause of justice. I leave space for prejudice, for the perpetuation of privilege, and for the arguments born of white fragility. Moreover, I have a responsibility to speak out against those arguments, being careful to frame my rebuttals in words that can be heard by those I am addressing. I have to meet them where they are.
That said, it is important that I continue to learn, to LISTEN to marginalized groups, and to believe what they say about what they need. This is not my soapbox. This is an opportunity to participate in undoing the wrongs caused by my ancestors – wrongs that have benefitted me both directly and indirectly my whole life. This is not a time for hurt feelings, for defensiveness, or for feeling good about my contribution. This is a chance to lean into the discomfort of conversations long overdue, to really hear the pain of those who have been silenced, and to begin to change the systems that continue to oppress them.
So how do I know when to speak out and when to sit quietly? If the vacuum left by my silence is filled by a voice that does damage to the cause of moving toward justice, or is not filled by any voice at all, then I have a responsibility to speak up. If the vacuum left by my silence is filled by a voice that otherwise would not be heard, then I have a responsibility to shut up and let that voice be heard.
Let’s listen and speak together. How can you use your ears? Who can you hear? How can you use your voice? Who can you reach? Let’s open up the conversation!
Out of the Well 