Learning Empathy: stories of my life

Published by vegankid | Filed under Ourstory, Safe Spaces, Taking Action, Whiteness

At Rachel’s request, i am re-posting this comment that i had left in response to her piece, Racism and Empathy, as a seperate post. So here it goes…

Our experiences are similar. I grew up in a small, rural, midwestern town. Growing up, i knew of two families of color in our town (they moved there when i was in my teens): one owned a local Chinese restaurant and the other was so scared of sending their daughter to our school that they drove her forty-five minutes each day to a school in another county that had a larger student of color population. Well, its not much harder to be larger than none.

The town i grew up in was incredibly overtly racist and had aquired a bit of an image after a Black woman was murdered there while passing through in the 60s. I should mention that just before the family that i mentioned above moved here, our high school basketball team (which was one of the top in the state) had been suspended from playing after a team member and fans in the stands started shouting racial epithets at an opposing team (which was all Black). If my memory serves me correctly, it started when one of the players shoved another and called him a “fucking nigger.” That’s a word that i grew up around. I never heard my immediate family use it. They, too, taught me to love and accept others, but i was still able to detect their racism even as a young persyn. There’s was mostly subtle racism. But the kids and the parents that surrounded me had no shame. One “joke” that i remember being tossed around a lot was “damn! you’re sweatin like a nigger on election day!” This, i can assure you, was probably more on the kinder side of racism in my hometown.

I, too, was always uncomfortable with this. But i was an incredibly shy kid and never spoke up about anything. Recognizing my discomfort and anger and not doing anything about it is where i first felt the debilitating effects of White guilt. When i first questioned why i felt disturbed and angered by the racist comments of those around me when it was so common place i was at a loss. I figured i was somehow just blessed with a greater sense of empathy. But, as you point out, it was in fact my approximating experience. You see, the town i grew up in was also insanely homophobic and transphobic. It was my sophomore year of high school that i came to terms with my sexual identity. At the time, i had no language to recognize my gender identity, so i assumed it was merely an extension of my sexuality. I didn’t straight up tell anyone that i was Queer until i was 21, but that doesn’t mean that people didn’t know or assume. When i was 15, i switched social groupings. and begun to hang out with the outwardly Queer students. I also started presenting my gender in radically different ways (even in comparison to many of the Queer friends i hung out with). It was great to have a network of Queer friends, but i was still in the closet and due to a large school and differing ages, we were seperate for most of the school day, which meant we had to fend for ourselves. My bully went by the name of Ryan. He scared the shit out of me. I could never tell if he wanted to kill me, rape me, or both. But considering he was twice my size, he could probably have done either. Not a day went by without he and his friends taunting me, calling me names, making jokes, or stealing my shit. And so now when i think back to why it is that i felt empathy with those to whom the “nigger” jokes and comments were targeted, i realize that its because i couldn’t seperate those attacks from the attacks on me and other Queer people. I knew that in the eyes and minds of those doing the attacking, we were all targets. We were all objects to be ridiculed, beaten, raped, and killed. I had subconsciously recognized that our safety and our liberation was bound together. Oppressed peoples, especially working class peoples, have typically had a sound belief in strength in numbers. I think i recognized that at a young age.

Other specific events shaped my anti-racist life and oulook. The first was at the age of 11 (i believe). My best friend and i were enjoying a nice sunny day. We were about to get in the car to go somewhere with my friend’s mom when she made the comment that “Black people are just lazy.” Well, probably unbeknown to my friend’s mom, my friend and i had recently just taken a strong interest in the words and actions of Malcolm X. It was my friend who first said, “i think you’re wrong.” We then proceeded to argue with her for a bit until eventually we agreed to disagree (how often is it that a parent is willing to accept that they are wrong and a couple of eleven-year-old are right?). But that was the first time that i stood up and said something. And i did it only because i had support - an anti-racist ally.

The second event was in high school. My senior year i moved to the Indianapolis. This was the first time that i was actually surrounded by people of color (including in the classroom). I had quickly befriended a number of people of color from school, including a good friend who introduced me to much of the music that i enjoy today. It was this friend who came to school one day and shared with me his experiences the night before. He was in the car with a couple of friends driving home when all of a sudden a police car pulls them over. They were soon surrounded by police cars and officers pointing guns at them shouting at them to get on the ground. He was thrown out of the car and on to the ground where he was stepped on and detained for awhile. Turns out they were looking for “four young Black men” in connection with a robbery. M and his friends just happened to be young and Black enough (despite the fact that they were missing one and much further away from the scene of the crime than was possible given the time frame of events) to elicit being profiled. This was my first approximating experience with racial profiling and Driving While Black. Any preconceived notion of law and order that i may have had (which wasn’t much by the time i was seventeen and had spent time in jail) was quickly tossed out the window. I knew my friend to be a 4.0 student who didn’t do any drug (including alcohol). He was one of the most intelligent people i knew, but in the eyes of a racist police force, he was just another nigger.

While there have been a number of other experiences that have shaped my anti-racist outlook, these helped to start this process. I, like you, rachel, don’t view myself as non-racist. I have the same experience of continuing to learn about the many ways that racism/White Supremacy plays out. And as time goes on, i learn more and more of how pervasive it is. But i also meet more and more White allies as time goes on, and i continue to have conversations with White folks to help build a network of thought and action. And it is because of these experiences that i can say with great hope that while i may never see an end to White racism in my lifetime, i have seen great shifts and those shifts lead me to believe that a world free of racism is possible if we are willing to put forth all the hard work that is necessary.

Thanks for this, rachel. I think it is vital for us to share our stories and to create a network of shared experiences so that we may support one another on this long journey.

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