A Short Discussion on Race (inspired by Trayvon)

I feel some sort of need to add to my credentials on this subject matter before I begin.  However I dont really have any.  I am a white girl born in a predominantly white town who grew up with just a few African American friends.  After college I met and married a guy who was/is a hip-hop DJ and that was my first real look into black culture, black music, and differences and similarities between our lives.  One of Nate's first music partners, a (black) guy named Mike, was and will always be one of my dearest friends.  The relationship was so honest, and Mike never shied away from conversation about anything.  I had a lot of really interesting discussions with him about life and "color." And I attribute a lot of my later friendships with African American guys and girls to that valuable time spent building our friendship. I didnt consider Mike in terms of "black" and I dont think he put much on me being "white." We were just friends.  He was like a big brother to me. I would have trusted him with my life. And that is why I was absolutely astonished the day he and Nate were rehearsing and the cops showed up. 

Mike had been listening to Nate's music in his car out front of our apartment.  He was the MC of the group so he needed some quiet to space to write.  Apparently a neighbor called the cops because of a suspicious guy parked our front, and the cops cuffed Mike and brought him to our door asking if the story he was giving (about working with us) was true.  I was completely shocked.  Mike? Suspicious? What kind of neighborhood were we living in where I guy couldnt listen to music in his car because the color of his skin was suspicious? Mike was more intelligent and well read than me--heck, he made more money than Nate and I and lived in a better neighborhood! I couldnt believe the ridiculousness of it all.

But that was only the beginning.  We traveled as a group to different spots in the country--some areas with a great mix of people, and some with all black, all white, or all Latino crowds.  It was an awesome experience to be taken out of my comfort zone and to be the minority on many occasions.  White girl with blue eyes stands out in inner city Chicago.  Or in the Bronx.  Or in certain areas of Houston, TX.  And it was awkward at times.  And I felt nervous at times.  Not so much because I was afraid of the people around me, but because I was afraid of what the people around me had experienced from white people.  And I was afraid that those experiences would be assumed upon me. I cared what they thought of me.  I wanted to be judged by my own behavior, not by the behaviors of people who happened to look like me.  I prayed that I might some how change someone's perspective of the stereotypical white girl in America.  I dont know if I did.  But I know what it feels like to want to be judged not by the color of my skin and the sins of those who have shared it, but on the content of my character, and the way I live and breathe in that skin. 


I see the posts and discussions taking place on the recent murder of Trayvon Martin and I am both encouraged and discouraged at the same time.  I am encouraged to see the great outpouring of concern and determination to have justice served in this case.  I am glad that his needless death is being talked about and the community is being forced to do something.  But I am also discouraged by some of what I read.  One post from a black writer said, "when blacks stand together whites run scared!" What does that mean? I dont see how white's running scared helps the situation at all--if anything it continues the stereotyping that lead to this horrible incident to begin with.  I am glad to see people come together, but nobody should be running scared--that is what is wrong with the whole situation that went down. Another post by a white writer discussed how he will "never look suspicious" because he is white and has therefore lived a privileged life. I happen to disagree.  As a female, if I meet any guy alone in a dark alley--black, white, brown or purple--I am going to be suspicious.  This is the world we live in.  I dont care if the guy has a hood on or not, I am turning around and walking the other way.  I am suspicious not because of the guy's skin color, but because I am a woman who doesnt know the guy approaching her.  So I am glad that we are talking--we need to talk about this--but Im not sure all that is being discussed is beneficial to the cause.

I really dont have any grand solutions.  I know that in my life, it has served me well to believe that we are all created in God's image.  I know that stereotypes exist and unfortunately we all fall into a few of them.  Im a white girl from a small town. Im married to a white guy and have white kids.  If you read "Stuff White People Like" you could probably find a lot that fits me.  But my life experiences go much deeper than that.  I am more than the color of my skin. And maybe if I try to treat others with the same understanding it will make a difference in this world.