Full disclosure, I wrote this blog this past Monday (June 1) and posted it in the early hours of Tuesday (June 2) morning, not realizing that it was #blackouttuesday. When I realized my error, I ripped it down off the internet and stripped it off my social channels as fast as I could. I knew it wasn’t the time for me to share my voice when other more powerful voices needed to be amplified, and I knew that it wasn’t my place to take up more space when the lived experience of so many others needs to be the focus right now. But I still wanted to share what I wrote. It’s nothing that hasn’t already been said hundreds and thousands of times in the past few days, but standing still isn’t an option for me (for anyone, really) and this is my way of stepping into the light, with my eyes and my heart wide open.

Like many of you, the events of the past week have weighed heavily on my mind, on my heart and on my soul. As I sat down today to write a blog post, it felt tone-deaf, inauthentic and just plain wrong to write about something other than what’s going on in the world right now. It makes me so uneasy to write about this today, not just because I’m not an expert in this area (I’m still learning, myself), but also because I don’t want to get this wrong because I know just how important it is to get it right.  

So here goes…

While I am a person of colour, I recognize that I still come from a place and lived experience of great privilege. I haven’t been on the receiving end of overt and enduring systemic racism and bias in my life. I haven’t left my house wondering if today will be the day that I get harassed because of my skin colour. I haven’t been in a store and pulled aside to have my bag checked for stolen goods because of my skin colour. I haven’t been pulled over by the police because of my skin colour. I haven’t experienced or lived through these real moments of panic, where for even just an instant, I wonder if today is the day that I may not return home to my loved ones. Because of the colour of my skin.

But this is the reality for Black people – those that I know and those that I don’t. For Breonna Taylor, who was shot by police in her own home. Eight times. For Aumed Arbery, who was out for a run in his neighbourhood, when he was chased and gunned down by two white residents. And for George Floyd, who was murdered in broad daylight by an officer of the law. A police officer who pinned him to the ground, kneeled on the back of his neck for eight minutes and 46 seconds while this man pleaded for breath, pleaded for his mother and pleaded for mercy. This is the reality that Black people face. Today. In 2020. In North America.

And that is shameful.  And appalling.  And so very heartbreaking.

Over the past week, I have watched the story of George Floyd unfold: his senseless death, followed by the police officer’s termination of employment and subsequent charge with murder. Then the protests. The riots. The burning cities. The violence. And like many, I thought to myself, “this isn’t the answer - violence doesn’t justify violence”. But I then I stopped myself from judging and assuming. And I started reading. I started listening. I started understanding. I opened my eyes to my privilege, to my ignorance and to the terrifying reality that many people face every single day.

People are tired. People are frustrated. People are ANGRY that these senseless deaths continue to happen, week after week, in the “land of opportunity and the land of the free”. The cold, hard truth is that black people don’t have rights. They aren’t free. They don’t have liberty. They are hunted. They are persecuted. They do not feel safe. And they are not safe - anywhere. 

This is a serious problem.  

This is not a Black people problem.  

This is an all people problem.

And while I don’t have solutions to propose, I know that I can’t pretend that this problem does not exist. I know that I can’t sit here in complacency while the world literally burns around me. I know that changes are needed. I know that changes in ME are needed. So, right now, these are the three key changes that I’m focused on making in my own life:

1. Educating myself.  I have long considered myself to be an educated and open-minded person, but in the past week, I have realized how little I really know and have sought to understand the lived experience and barriers to success of Black people.  And when I say educating myself, I mean just that. It is NOT the responsibility of Black people to educate me.  It is my responsibility to learn more, to read more, to listen more, to question more.

2. Getting uncomfortable even though it’s uncomfortable.  The truth is that I like ease and cohesion, and I don’t like messy or confrontation. But it’s not enough now to just be “not racist”. It’s time to be “actively anti-racist”. Which means, my life is about to get a lot more uncomfortable. It means that I’m going to have to do the hard work to become more aware of my own quietly held biases and I’m going to have to get more comfortable with calling people (that I know and love) out on their own biases, stereotypes and off the cuff comments.  

3. Staying in this. For as long as it takes. Listening, learning, growing, engaging in conversation, speaking out, being socially and morally outraged needs to continue. Not for a week. Not for a month. Not for a year. For as long as it takes. Real change won’t happen in an instant or overnight and I know that I need to do more than I’ve done in the past, and that I need to do more than I’m doing right now if I want the future to look, feel and be any different.

I know that making these changes won’t stop the burning injustices of the world, but right now, a step forward is much more powerful than staying where I am.  

This wasn’t an easy blog post to write.  And not just because I’m afraid of opening myself up to criticism, but because I want to say the right thing, I want to do better and I want to be better. But if I’ve used the wrong language or said the right thing in the wrong way or worst case scenario, said the wrong thing altogether, please tell me, please share your perspective and please help me do better.

Black voices matter.

Black stories matter.

Black lives matter.

Do they matter to you?

June 3, 2020