black lives matter

regarding privilege

Hello, all you beautiful readers,

For the sake of my blog schedule, we’re going to pretend that the last week and a half didn’t happen. I had a major case of the “I don’t wanna”s and that’s all I have to say about that.

Today was supposed to be what I usually write up as a “mental health day” type of post, but considering the current state of the country, I didn’t feel that was the kind of thing I ought to be writing about. Honestly, I don’t feel like I know what to say.

I’m just a very basic white girl blogger, chugging along with a message of positivity, love, and ‘follow your dreams.’ I’m not good at digging deep, at saying the hard things, and I avoid politics and conflicts like the plague. (Hey, a time-relevant joke… haha)

The Black Lives Matter movement is one that seems to have had its moments in the sun, aka social media, before kind of fading out of view. Its hard for me to admit that I’ve always been quiet in the past, never having an opinion or a stance, at least not openly. Like I said, I avoid conflict at all costs, and stating an opinion that might start an argument just flares up my anxiety.

But over the past week, I’ve come to realize that my ability to stay quiet, to just avoid the conflict if I want to, is a mark of my own “privilege.” And I use the word privilege in quotations because it should not be considered a privilege to be treated like a human being. And yet, for so very many people, that would be an enormous privilege.

I didn’t grow up hearing about race. I wasn’t directly told much of anything, except to know that anyone who associated themselves with people outside our religious culture would be gossiped about by everyone. It wasn’t something I concerned myself with while I was growing up, partially because I was homeschooled and practically everyone I had around me looked just like me. Again, more of that same “privilege.”

But I’ve found myself raising a beautiful daughter who is not going to look like me. Every day, it seems like, her skin color looks more and more like her daddy’s. And I find myself worried, afraid, of the stereotypes and issues she could potentially face as she grows older. I want to shield her, to pretend like nothing could ever happen to her, but that isn’t realistic. Instead, I know I have a big responsibility to teach her about her heritage, to go beyond what the history books tell us about Native Americans so that she can know the real truth, and to encourage her to stand up for her rights and beliefs. And I’m sharing that because if I can feel so strongly, raising a child who is still partially white, I can only imagine what black mothers around this country are feeling when they raise their children. My heart goes out to them and the fear they must be facing right now.

Even though I don’t fully support the violence that has taken place over the past several days, I also don’t have the right to deny that POC in America have been hurt deeply, for hundreds of years, and there is ancestral anger rising up right now. As a white woman, I have no way of understanding what that feels like.

My current course of action is education. As I said, I’ve never had to think about how privileged I actually am, and it is my job to try and understand at least some portion of what POC go through. Beyond that, I’ve been scouting out black-owned businesses to support and I’m learning what is going on in my own state that should be changed.

I want a better world for my daughter. I want a world that truly is fair and just. And I need to help that happen because all lives can’t matter until black lives matter.

Love and light and kindness to all,

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Posted by katharine_marie in Life in 2020, Lifestyle, 0 comments