Painful Truths

I want to tell you a story…

It’s a story about a conversation that was a small moment in the grand scheme of life events. But it’s a conversation that forever changed how I think and walk through this world.

Life has generously blessed me with the friendship of the most kind-hearted person I have ever known. And in addition to being incredibly caring, my friend Monica also has the magical ability to very gently and lovingly open my eyes to the ways I am being an asshole. Just off the top of my head, I can recall three separate conversations we’ve had over the years that have profoundly changed the way I see myself and how I interact with the world.

Monica and I met in college, and a few years after we graduated and had all gone our separate ways, a group of us reunited for Monica’s wedding. We were in our mid-20’s; a time in our lives when everyone was desperately trying to get partnered up. 

As a group of us girls sat around in Monica’s parents’ kitchen, catching up on what and how everyone was doing, someone asked about another friend of ours. I had recently spoken with this friend, so I chimed in with, “Oh, she’s doing great! She met this awesome guy, he’s really smart and funny, and they are super happy and having so much fun together. I think it’s getting pretty serious, BUT he’s Indian.”

Monica immediately froze and said, “No. AND he’s Indian.”

And not knowing what I had said or what she meant, I said, “what?”

And in the gentle and loving way that only Monica is capable of, she said, “Lisa, think about what you just said. You said BUT he’s Indian, as if it is some sort of drawback or negative. Do you really think that? Or is it just a fact; just a part of who he is as a person?”

And in that moment, for the very first time in my conscious memory, I was awakened to my own bias.

I could have bristled in response. I could have gotten defensive. I could have gotten angry and said something like, “That’s not what I meant. You know I’m not racist. I have a ton of non-white friends!”

But I didn’t. 

I chose instead to hear what she was saying. To really look at what I said and try to understand why I said it.

My internal dialogue went something like this: Where did that come from?! In my heart I don’t believe that he’s “less than” because his family is from India, but if that’s true, why did I say it in that way? Is it possible that I hold biased beliefs so deeply inside myself that I don’t even see them?

I am grateful every day for my brave friend Monica and her willingness to have loving, difficult conversations.

May we all have a Monica in our lives. May we all BE Monica.

From that moment on, I tried to look closer at my words and actions, my reactions and responses. And I realized that I have been complicit.

I have been complicit in systemic racism.

I have been complicit every time I let a racist joke slide with an uncomfortable laugh.

I have been complicit when I have made snap judgements about people based on their appearance.

I have been complicit. And so have you.

I have been complicit. And also, I am not a bad person.

Because I think that’s sometimes where we get stuck. 

I think white people are afraid to admit that they have been complicit, because it means they get labeled as a “bad person” or as a “racist.” And that’s just not how it works. We can acknowledge that we have been raised with these biases, that they have been reinforced in us through our culture and through our education, for our entire lives.

And it doesn’t mean that we are “bad.”

It just means we have work to do.

It means we have soul searching to do.

It means we have some un-learning to do.

It means we have to ask ourselves some really difficult questions, and look deep inside to understand what biases we might unknowingly and unintentionally hold.

White privilege is a real, living, breathing thing. It exists. All white people have benefitted from the mere fact of being white. We won the lottery when we were born white into a racist culture.

It is a fact. Time to let it sink in. Time to recognize it. Absorb it. Sit with it. 

Then, once we’ve let it marinate for a while, once we fully understand and see white privilege for what it is… 

It’s time to dismantle the fuck out of it.

Now, let’s take a breath, shall we? Inhale, exhale. Good. Maybe another one? OK, let your heart rate come down a bit before we continue.

This is somewhat of a travel blog, after all, so let me share with you where we visited yesterday.

Yesterday, in the midst of the racial injustice protests that are occurring all over the country, we visited Mount Rushmore.

How is that for irony?

As I stood looking up at this monument to American greatness for the first time, I felt like I had been punched in the gut. Because I imagine that’s what it feels like for a lot of people when they see monuments to the whitewashed version of our country’s history.

And my kids, casually eating their ice cream cones, gazed up at faces that look like theirs. Representing a country that was built for them. And I thought about all of the kids whose faces don’t look like those carved in the mountain, and wondered how they feel about that?

I read the placard in the viewing area that recounted the history of westward expansion and how America was formed. Lots of dates and land acquisitions listed, with no mention of the murder that went along with it. No mention of the indigenous people who were slaughtered, entire cultures wiped out, violently eliminated to form this free new world. This white man’s world.

If this is making you uncomfortable, good.

It is the real history of our nation, and we can’t move forward until we acknowledge it. 

No more whitewashing.

I stood looking up at this monument to American greatness, and I felt conflicted. Because I love what our country is supposed to stand for. I love the ideals that it was founded on; freedom, equality, life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Yes! All of those things!

But we did it wrong. We did it on the backs of people of color. We stated equality for all, but we didn’t really mean all. White men stated equality for all, even as they owned, traded, bought and sold other humans as property. White men built this country for white men, at the expense of all others. And even though slavery is no longer tolerated in the legal sense, the legacy and sentiment still exists.

People of color are still very much oppressed, dismissed, ignored, brutalized, discriminated against, murdered.

And knowing this truth doesn’t mean we hate America. It means we love America and want it to be better. We want it to be the America that holds and protects ALL people, not just the white ones. Liberty and justice for all.

No person is perfect. No country is perfect. But we can still love them and help them to become better.

It starts with us. 

We have some soul searching to do. We have some really painful truths to uncover.

Because here’s the thing with painful truths. It is MORE painful when we leave them covered up. We might not see the pain, but it will always be there, festering and bubbling below the surface. It is only when we dig up the painful truth, really look at it, acknowledge it, SEE IT, that we can then move forward. 

Until we are willing to acknowledge the TRUTH of white privilege and social inequity in this country, we will always be stuck in this place of pain.

I, for one, am ready to move forward. Are you? 

Take my hand, let’s do it together.