My name is Alyssa Goden. I’ve been black my whole life, but what strikes me the most about myself is how I’ve sometimes allowed white people to disrespect me and my culture.
Personally and professionally, I have not always fought back against the powers that be. It wasn’t so much of a choice as it was thrust upon me by my upbringing. In most ethnic households, we as children are taught to be seen, not heard. We are taught that silence is golden. We are also taught not to question authority. If you were seen as doing something wrong, you would be severely and brutally punished. Though discipline is needed to raise “good,” children, it doesn’t always allow for the raising of a fully functioning adult. How, with such a strict childhood, does one find themselves able to combat discriminatory behaviors if silence is favored more than anything? Even in schools we prioritize silence for learning.
SHAME
School is where my first experiences with racism began. It’s where most of ours have.
One of my most vivid memories came from an interaction in high school. I still remember the smug grin on his face when he presented his phone to me. At first, I squinted, struggling to see the image behind my thick black glasses. Then it finally clicked; this “meme,” or photo he was showing me was based on the premise that Black people did not know how to read. My heart sank. How could someone I thought I knew so well turn around and share with me, a black woman, such a joke? It wasn’t funny to me. It wasn’t funny at all, but given my lack of outrage, he probably thought it was okay. It’s like he knew he could show the “joke,” to me because of my shy disposition and my need to be friends with everyone. Even the racist friends who would probably call me slurs behind my back.
Looking back, this interaction struck a nerve deep within me. I had attended Black Lives Matter rallies, I had made signs in protest, and I had walked for hours, but in my waking life, I had not fought back against such a gross stereotype of our culture.
Did this make me an active participant against the change I so strongly felt we deserved?
As I reflect, I believe so. I feel ashamed to admit that I had allowed someone to say slurs around me. Felt ashamed that a white person felt comfortable showing me racist memes. And felt powerless when looking back at all the times I didn’t fight against everyday racism.
FEAR
Fear kept me from protecting the heart and souls of my ancestors. By definition, fear is an uncomfortable emotion caused by the innate sense of danger. I was afraid to fight back because my mind always jumped to the worst conclusions. I didn’t want to end up killed or badly hurt due to my beliefs, but how valid is that fear? Why was I scared to have the same fate as many of our slain brothers and sisters when, instead, I could calmly reiterate why these comments weren’t okay? Surely, if we could hold conversations about other serious topics, a mature discussion could be held about my race.
But no, I stood silent like I had been raised and taught to. I didn’t just fear retaliation, I feared the consequences waiting for me back home.
NOW
However, now that I’ve grown older and wiser? I say it is important to protect that fighting spirit within. Part of learning to be comfortable with being uncomfortable is holding unpleasant conversations with those around us. We have to be willing to hold racist people accountable because they hurt not only us but other walks of life with their dangerous beliefs.
It is scary fighting against white supremacy, but some things are meant to be fought together and some battles are fought alone. In my experience, siding against racism is necessary but insanely triggering. So often we applaud ppl for physically fighting racists or at least verbally accosting them. Still, when constantly faced with these aggressions in the workplace or school, it becomes hard to tackle this language and oppression every day.
THE POWER OF PRESENCE
There are certain ways we can choose to fight against racism without physical harm, but there are also instances where we have to let the silence speak volumes. If the racist in question is extremely aggressive, the fight may lie in our presence.
I don’t associate myself with anyone that chooses to make me feel uncomfortable in the heart of racist attacks. It’s not the bravest position to hold, as I sincerely work on finding my own voice, but it’s the one that works for me in this cruel world. Though it is beautiful to see people coming together to fight against racism, I feel like people severely undermine the stress and strain that goes into humanitarian efforts. When the fight is for your own existence, feelings of depression intensify. It begins to feel like we’ve taken several steps forward, but several steps back when discrimination is still at large.
RESPONSIBILITY
To constantly choose to fight is to acknowledge that it won’t end after one conversation or even one physical altercation. The exhaustion of having to represent and defend your race is real, and a thankless chore. Fighting to have your entire race be respected is an inhumane experience. So I ask, how much responsibility do we as black people hold to speak out against micro aggressions and instances of oppression? Shouldn’t we also expect our non-racist allies to stand up for us in such triggering experiences?
I feel that we should lean on others when necessary, but know when to walk away. It isn’t worth your energy or time to fight against people who are convinced your existence is worth less than theirs. It isn’t worth your tears or anger to stress over a racist person. It also isn’t fair to hold onto fears and shame when the person who should feel such a way are those spewing their racist hatred. Which leads me back to my unfortunately uncomfortable truth, I, Alyssa Goden, do not always fight against racism.
From hearing slurs, or even instances of “white power,” what do you do when you’re put in that situation constantly? Do you simply ignore it? Or do you acknowledge internally that they’re racist and let the fight go?
This is powerful. An awakening for how each generation is attempting to put feelings and actions into words.
Keep writing we’ll keep reading. lots-of-love
You are an Amazing Writer