Hey Creative Friends,
It’s been tough these past two weeks.
I’ve heard from many of you, checking on me, and wanting to know what you can do to learn, to help, to understand better, and basically just do more about the challenges that people of color (POC) face every day in America. Thank you.
During this difficult period, I haven’t written much on here or on social media because of the raw emotions I’ve been dealing with. Also the fact that whenever you talk about race you stand the chance of being accused of playing the race card has played a role in my not writing.
However, on here, I’ve always tried to be vulnerable with you about my creative journey. Today, I’ve decided to take that a step further and open up about race relations from my perspective.
You’ve seen me wear many hats – the artist, the teacher, the writer, the creative coach, the art exhibitions curator, the church volunteer, youth mentor, the encourager-in-chief… I can’t list them all.
Of all of these hats, the number one hat that I wear is “the mother”. I see being a mother as my number one job. I’ve got three kids, two of whom are boys.
As a person of color in America, you learn that the color of your skin matters. It matters in many ways, both positive and negative ways. However, the negatives tend to disproportionally outweigh the positives. The color of your skin makes a difference in how you’re perceived, how you’re treated and what opportunities you’re allowed to have.
As a person of color, you learn to work harder than the average person in order to simply stay where you are in life. Let alone, to get ahead. You learn to be conscious and guarded about what you say, how you say it, and how you behave so that you’re not perceived as a threat, which is usually the default. Because let’s face it – no one wants to be labeled the “Angry Black Woman”.
So when someone hurts you, you hide your hurt. When they treat you badly, you hide your anger. When you’re afraid for your life, you hide your fear. You learn all these things. You learn to do hard things and you find ways to survive life and navigate your way through it.
But then, you give birth to a child and you’re over the moon to hold this bundle of joy in your hands. Your heart is filled with love in ways you didn’t think possible. As the years go by and they grow up, and they begin to have a mind of their own, you come to the sad and fearful realization, that they too will have to learn to navigate this world that sees them as “other” just like you’ve had to do.
When the Hat Becomes Heavy to Wear
Parenting is hard for everyone.
However, when you have the added burden of having to find ways to have “The Conversation” with your child, it makes parenting harder. What is “The Conversation”? It’s the same conversation many black parents before me, have had to have with their kids. The conversation in which you have to sit your child down and tell them that because of the color of their skin, they have to learn special survival skills to live life in this country.
“The Conversation” is essentially a survival skills training session. It involves teaching my sons and daughter how to interact with the police if they get pulled over. I’ve got to teach them to know whom to call, what to say and what not to say. I’ve got to instill in them that no matter how they’re treated they have to comply with everything the police tells them to do, so they can come back home alive to Mom.
The worst thing is that, after all of that talk you know deep down in your heart that you can’t guarantee that if they complied, if they did everything the police asked them to do, they’ll even make it home alive.
This is a lot of burden for a human to carry every day of her life.
It is stressful, when simple life events like your child coming of age and getting their driver’s license means totally different things for you as a black mother. In addition to the folly that comes with being a teenager, you’ve got to also worry about the disadvantage at which their skin color puts them. Knowing that if they mess up like all teenagers do, your child may not get a second chance like other regular teenagers might. That is really hard.
I’ve cried a lot during these past several days of protests across America. It’s been very emotional for me. I’ve been traumatized by the image of the police officer’s knee on George Floyd’s neck. I’ve been heartbroken hearing a grown man cry out for his mom. For days, I couldn’t sleep. I wake up in the middle of the night and can’t go back to sleep. I’ll sneak into my children’s rooms and peak in on them with a heavy heart.
It’s been tough. I’m exhausted.
I watched a professor from Harvard on television, explain the documented trauma, and the mental health problems, black communities experience after each instance of police brutality. He explained how mental health directly correlates to physical health and well-being. The cumulative result of that is crushing. As I listened to him, I knew he was speaking my truth.
My white friends have asked what they can do. Here are some suggestions.
What you Can Do:
- Speak on behalf of those whose voices don’t hold as much weight as yours because of the color of their skin. When you see something, say something. Don’t stay silent.
- Proximity makes a lot of difference. Get close to a person of color (POC) and really get to know them. You’ll be surprised that they have similar hopes and dreams just like you.
- Educate yourself on the topic. Have an open mind. Read books, watch movies and be willing to hear different perspectives with respect to race relations. Listen.
- Teach your children/grandchildren not to be color blind. Teach them to celebrate the different colors while recognizing that color has put many people at a disadvantage.
- Support POC businesses, follow them on social media, buy from them, take their classes, share their works, give them opportunities
- Research and donate to black causes that you believe in. Sign petitions. Take action. Do what you can.
- Use your economic power: The solution is not just being nice to people of color. It’s making sure our institutions and systems change. Demand that the arts and craft supplies companies you support, commit to diversity. Hold them accountable to featuring black instructors, having black ambassadors for their products, and working with black artists.
- Share this list with friends and family and have meaningful conversations.
We can all do something.
Let’s change this world for all our children and their children. The status quo has taken generations to create. Let’s change it for the generations to come.
Love always.
Heart felt (I could feel it) with understandable suggestions for change. My heart is breaking too.
Hoping for change. Thanks Beth.
Thank you for writing Clara. As a black mama of 2 boys my ❤️ has been breaking. Thank you for articulating the pain we live with daily.
You’re welcome, Elle. I‘m glad that I have the opportunity to be able to use my voice to speak on behalf of many parents.
Clara,
Know you are not alone. Many of us cried this week. I have tried to look at myself to see where my well-meaning actions/attitudes are not helpful, … or enough, …. or mis-informed, … or just plain dumb. I saw a sign that said “Silence stops with me.” It gave me hope.
Kathy, knowing that I’m not alone and seeing the solidarity of so many people around the world gives me hope that finally we’ll have systemic changes now and for the generations to come.
Thanks so much for sharing your heart and art with us – and I appreciate the ‘what you can do’ – as we all learn how to be better allies.
Thanks Laura for considering what we can all do.
Thank you my friend for this blog. You have echoed the sentiments of many of us.
If I may add a little something for my fellow immigrants reading this, take sometime to understand other POC. Take time to understand the history and empathize with them. Together, we can all become the change we wish to see.
Absolutely!!!! Context matters. Learning about history shows you how long this has gone on, informs you on how widespread it is, and how ingrained into our institutions and systems it’s become so much so that we all accept it as normal and navigate our lives around it.
Clara, Thanks for being vulnerable and true. I recognize that the best I can ever be as someone who grew up here in our systems is a recovering racist. I work on it as best I can and look to POC as leaders for possible actions. An ill-formed thought I have been having lately is about ‘the talk’. (My thoughts don’t address systemic racism, it’s just me trying to think of something, anything.) What if there were parallel ‘talks’? Non-BIPOC folks teaching their children about what others have to learn. If your children have to learn ‘ugly truths’ why is it not possible for non-BIPOC to learn those truths. If your children cannot be protected from that reality, why should other children not be confronted with it. I don’t see it as sharing the burden, but rather understanding the burden and what can be understood is that child can help take away some of those burdens. Perhaps an unrealistic hope. I’ve got nothing else. Please know that yours are not the only tears that have been shed. Please know that you are cared for.
Thanks Beth. You and I both – hoping for a better future for all kids without unnecessary burdens they shouldn’t be carrying.
Wonderfully written, thank you for sharing Clara. Much love, Dawn
Thanks Dawn.
Hi Clara, as a brown woman I’ve had to have the “what to do when pulled over by the police talk” with my son who is a beautiful brown/black/white mix. It’s so hard to outline the perceptions/dangers that our young people face without scaring too much….
Cathey, I wish I could disagree with you but I can’t. Indeed, the challenges are numerous. Police brutality and injustice in the criminal justice system is only one chapter in the Survival Training manual.
Very insightful. To say that emotions have been raw is an understatement. It’s challenge of unimaginable proportion living in America as a black person, having and raising children in a country where just being different by virtue of your color and notably your accent can, indeed, spell your doom. May God help us, cause the scales of racism, prejudice and hatred fall off the eyes of humanity.
May God help us.
Dear Clara, It breaks my heart to read your words and know the truth of them. I, like many others in my privileged, mostly white community, know that I have much to learn, but will try my best to stand up and speak out for all those who are oppressed. Here in the UK, it is much the same. People of colour have fewer opportunities and suffer so much racism in all walks of life, but there are many good people, who are willing to stand and be counted. Have heart. Change has to come xxx
Thanks Andrea. Indeed there are many good people who want to stand up and be counted and we’re looking up to them to speak on behalf of the voiceless.
Thank you for sharing. As the mother of a white teenage son, I am heartbroken at the different conversations I have had with him as opposed to the conversations our black friends have had with their sons. I am praying for change, listening, and learning.
Thanks Majorie. Just like you, I’m also praying for change and hoping for a world where all our children will live free of emotional and psychological burdens caused by society’s reaction to their skin colors.
Dear Clara,
Thank you for being open, honest, vulnerable and assertive all at the same time. For spreading the truth – we want to hear it – and giving us small ways to help make a difference.
As an American living abroad my heart is sick when I see these images and hear these news reports. You are much closer – geographically, physically and emotionally. I send you my support and empathy as best I can from so far away.
Claudia, thanks for your support and empathy. I appreciate it.
Aunty Clara,
Thank you for sharing. When basketball legend Kobe Bryant and her daughter died earlier this year in a helicopter crash, the thought that came to mind was that may be Kobe’s daughter was hoping she will be saved by her father. We all know how it ended, very tragic. As a black man raising 3 black girls, my fear is that a day will come when my girls are being subject to racial discrimination and their natural instinct will be daddy can prevent this from happening or daddy can save us but as a black man I can’t save myself from racial discrimination how can I save my kids. I hope we begin to have meaningful dialogues that can change the hearts people.
Flynn, that right there broke my heart. When as a black father in America you live with the knowledge that you can’t protect yourself from the police; let alone protect your precious girls. That is sad. This is why we need change.
Dear Clara. We have been holding your true words in our hearts, especially this morning in church (the most segregated hour in America). Dwight and I are so glad to call you “friend”, which includes hearing hard truths about our actions that cause pain. We value the action list you provided and add our commitment to tackle more urgently institutional racism. Call us whenever you just need a listening ear or white allies with privilege.
Dear Maureen and Dwight. Thank you so much. I hope you know that I love you.