Excuses for Bigotry, Hate, Racism and the Misunderstanding White Privilege

I cannot speak for the marginalized. I cannot express how they feel or fully understand what they’ve experienced. My face is the same as those who would mistreat and oppress them. My face will be a question mark for those who don’t know me. I could be someone to hold his hand out to help lift them up or I could be someone who would step on their fingers, maybe even shove them, so that they fall back down. It isn’t the same as those who see black skin and assume they’re a criminal. It isn’t the same as those who assume Asians are submissive or spread disease or that they are enemies. It isn’t the same as those who look at anyone who doesn’t look like them as inferior… as things. It isn’t the same as those who see someone transgender and ignore that person’s true self or create an identity that isn’t real so they can excuse their hatred. It isn’t the same because so many have done so much to prove time and again that those stereotypes aren’t accurate. For those who look like me, however, there have been so many who have done so much to justify the fears from marginalized peoples.

A stranger would not know how I have lived or how I was raised any more than I would know that about them. This is amplified when that stranger is a minority. Despite how I may have been raised or lived, I have not had to experience the fear of a white person, the majority of whom I see. I’ve not had to worry about getting assaulted or murdered because of the color of my skin. I have not had to be afraid of being raped because of how I dressed or because society had produced a culture that makes it the victim’s responsibility to have the control, when they never have the control. They should, but it is often taken from them. If I commit a crime, my past mistakes won’t be paraded in the news. Instead, citizens will be asked to consider my motives or shown examples of my virtue. They will be asked to consider some childhood trauma or mental diagnosis or addiction. It will never simply be because I am white. It will never simply be because of what I was wearing. It will never simply be because I am a straight male.

I can empathize with our marginalized fellow citizens. I was raised by a single mother who is a lesbian. I was fortunate enough to have many friends who were accepting of this. It did not shelter me from bigotry or hate, though. We would get phone calls making rude comments. I would get bullied about having two moms. I have been called a fag because I was clearly going to be gay without having a dad in the household and being raised by a gay woman. The worst of it, however, was seeing my mother cry when I reached the age to start questioning things. She never lied to me. Whatever I asked, she told the truth and tried to keep it as age appropriate without telling me things like “storks bring babies”. She explained what the feminine products in the bathroom were without going into detail about how they are used. She was very good at explaining things at my level of understanding. So when I asked her if she was gay and her response was to break down and cry, it hurt me like I’d never felt at the time. It wasn’t because of who she is. It wasn’t because she couldn’t answer me in that split second. It was because I realized she had been afraid of that question. We lived in a time were most gays hid who they were. It can have a terrible impact on their emotional health. My mom raised me to treat everyone the same unless they were… well, assholes, bullies, dicks. When I asked that question, I was sure I knew the answer. I asked more to confirm so that I didn’t have to wonder. I didn’t ask because I was afraid of what she might be or because I cared one way or the other. She was and is my mom. Nothing could change that. Seeing her cry was something I felt, but I didn’t fully understand until I was older. I knew she was afraid of what I might think and that I might run off. It will never happen.

As much as I felt that fear, I still cannot make a claim to fully understand what it is like to hide who you are for fear of losing everything. I have no idea what that feels like to live that way day after day for years. The same goes for never fully understanding what it feels like to be stopped by police and feel genuine fear for my life. Sure, I’ve been nervous. I didn’t want to get into trouble. I never feared for my life. I had friends that hated cops, but they caused their own issues with the law. They robbed people or stores or they committed assaults. They had been mistreated at times by police. I watched a guy I know get beaten in front of a convenient store on East Third by two police officers. The beating was so bad that their light blue uniform shirts were mostly rusty brown on the front from the blood. Even after seeing that, I never felt afraid for my life when I was stopped by police. Now, as an adult, I have a few friends who are or were in law enforcement. I know them. I would be shocked if they were found to be an abusive cop. The men I know aren’t that. They became police because of a real desire to protect and serve. So, I have a somewhat different bias about police than many of my friends.

I may believe I cannot speak for marginalized citizens, human beings. It doesn’t mean I cannot speak against those who would discriminate or harm them simply for being who they are. I cannot comment on their experiences, but I can comment on their mistreatment. I don’t need to experience their pain and fear to recognize it exists and to stand beside them and show support for them. I can stand against those who would ignore their own privilege and try to help them understand what is meant by the words “white privilege”. It isn’t about never having to struggle. It is about always having to struggle. It is about always being afraid of what might happen if law enforcement approaches them. I cannot imagine feeling fear just at the site of an approaching officer. I cannot imagine what it might feel like to be the only person in a room who is not like everyone else… be it skin color, orientation, or identity. I have been the only white person in a store, in a small apartment, and in a few different bars. Not once did I feel fear. I won’t say there weren’t a few times I when I felt nervous when I walked into a bar and all eyes were on me. It passed though, a flash of warmth to the face. That is the difference between being me and being someone of color or different sexual orientation or gender identity. I feel fine being anywhere, whether that is true or not. I walk into any store and not once do I consider what anyone thinks of what I’m doing there.

These preconceptions, these prejudices, cannot be overcome if we allow someone to roll their eyes and make comments like “you people always make it about race” or “she’s just trying to ruin him/get famous”. These ideals are entangled in our history. They are ingrained in the psyche of much of our nation. I believe those who refuse to see the systemic discrimination, whether racism, sexism, or any form of bigotry, are shrinking in number. It’s a slow process though. Most of our history in the US, hell, pretty much the world, is a cycle of racial discrimination. Much of our history has been about acquiring lands for whomever has the superior numbers and anyone else is inferior. You can zoom in to see the local level, the little world around ourselves, and see that it isn’t gone and ignoring or looking for reasons to excuse it will only allow that to fester until we have a mentally unstable man kill 8 people, 6 of whom were Asian women targeted in an Asian establishments, and try to claim race was not a factor. As a white man in the US, I refuse to accept the excuses given to white shooters. I refuse to accept how different white criminals are portrayed compared to those who are part of a minority. That is the privilege people refer to… man kills 8 people, “he had a really bad day”. Man sells single cigarettes and dies during his arrest, he was a criminal. It was deserved. Young man kills 9 in a church, arrested without incident. Man possibly high on drugs uses what might be a counterfeit $20.00 dies while being arrested. Look at his criminal history. He deserved it. Man carrying a toy rifle in a store, shot and killed. He should have complied. He deserved it. Man threatens to run his car into a convenient store, threatens to run his car into gas pumps to kill people, and will not exit his car for 40 minutes, then allegedly reaches for a gun several times gets several chances before being shot, but lives. I purposely left out any physical characteristics of those examples because if you read them and you know what the main difference between those who lived or were given ample opportunity to comply and those who were killed for petty crimes or nothing at all, then you cannot claim racism doesn’t exist. You cannot claim white privilege isn’t a thing.