When I was seventeen I moved out of my parents house, and out of the city they lived in. Much to my fathers disappointment, it wasn’t to go to college, but instead, just to move. It was always a joke in our family that I was born with itchy feet, a true traveller, and I wanted to see the world. You see, we moved a lot while I was growing up. So much that people always assume I’m a military brat when I explain the places I’ve lived. (I’m not. My Dad was a retail worker, a businessman.) We were never rich, but we were never poor either. I may not have had the material things some of my friends did, but at the same time I had many things they didn’t. I’ve always known I had a good life. But I’d never seen it as privileged.
I was born and raised Romance Catholic with an Italian mother and an Irish father, but I don’t consider myself to be a Catholic, or a Christian. I’m very spiritual and I do believe in a higher power. I just don’t believe I need a specific building (church) or person ( priest) to enable me to communicate with that higher power. It pisses me off to no end when people claiming to be good Christians or ‘good God-Fearing folk’ promote hatred and injustice and judgement based on anything other than actions.
I also believe that the universe, that that higher power, has chosen this time to unite the truly good people of all sexes, faiths, races, nationalities, and ages to unite and stand up for each other.
It’s easy to say I’m not racist.
It’s not easy to admit I’m privileged.
I’ve always understood that I’ve basically had a very good life, even when I had struggles. While in places like South Africa and Nepal I saw things that truly opened up my eyes to just how blessed a life I have, but even then, to me that sort of prejudice didn’t thrive at home.
By at home, I mean in North America.
And I was wrong.
A few years ago a good friend of mine tried to help me understand White Privilege. I’ll always be grateful to her for her patience and openness in helping educate me. It hurt my heart to hear her stories of her everyday life in modern, places like San Diego and Seattle. In my mind, the sort of racism she described didn’t exist in this day and age, so close to home. People of colour walking down the street getting pulled over and questioned for no reason was something that happened in fiction, on television, not in this day and age. Not in this reality. The comments, and looks, were just the rare person who was an idiot. Those strops of things happened in the fifties and sixties, or maybe in the deep south, but surely that was it. I was blind to it all. Not willfully, just ignorantly.
I wasn’t alone in that. I’ll never truly understand the horrors and fears people of colour have to live with every day. There is no way I can. And any white person who says they get it, and means it, doesn’t get it, because we can’t.
What we can do though, is stop it.
We’ve had a hell of a year for sure, and it’s brought out some of the best things I’ve ever seen, and some of the worst. I doubt many of you are wondering what some of the worst things are, but you might wonder what I’ve seen that’s been the best thing ever.
I’m going to tell you.
Maybe it’s because we’ve all just had the shared experience of a global pandemic but it feels like good people all over are truly coming together to stand against the abuses that are happening everywhere, every day. People are listening, and learning what privilege truly is, and starting to understand what #BlackLivesMatter stands for, and it is a beautiful thing to see.
Trump says the world is watching, and laughing. I say the world is watching, but they’re not laughing.
This movement, this fight for right, is going to be long and hard. There’s no denying it. We, all of us, need to keep this fight alive. Understanding is catching on, and we need to feed that so it spreads more, and more.
The killing of George Floyd has opened up so many peoples eyes, and it’s about time. It breaks my heart to realize it likely isn’t even George Floyd’s death that did it. I don’t think it was the death of another black man that’s opening up people’s eyes. It’s not the riots, or the protests either.
I believe what has finally opened up people’s eyes to what has been going on was the complete lack of fear or repercussions on Derek Chauvin’s face as he blatantly and willfully
killed George Floyd that has truly brought it home.
That man had complete confidence that he would get away with what he was doing. And that has shocked many good people into opening their eyes, ears, and hearts to what is, and has been, going on.
That the charge of third degree murder has been upgraded to second-degree, and the three other officers on the scene have been charged with aiding and abetting is a step in the right direction. A step that, sadly, probably wouldn’t have happened without the protests all over the world making it clear we were watching, and we were judging. And it’s only one step. We need many more to make lasting change.
It’s become a time when pain, and sadness has brought the world together in this fight for good over evil.
Some will say I’m a writer, a creative, so I’m being dramatic when I say this is a fight for good over evil. Others will sigh with relief and think, “Finally, people are getting it.”
Now is not the time for any of us to be quiet. Not about racism, sexism, or any abuse of power. People all over the world are not just watching, they’re listening, and they’re speaking.
Momentum is shifting, and it’s up to us to make sure that good wins this battle. Keep talking people. Keep sharing stories, and be sure to speak up when you see something wrong. It’s our world, and we need to make it what we want it to be. And I for one, want it to be a good place to live.