Current Events Mary Hobson Current Events Mary Hobson

Dear Fellow Whites,

I want to talk to you. Anyone is welcome to read this, but this is directed to you. Have any of you seen the movie version of John Grisham’s A Time to Kill?

Dear Fellow Whites,

I want to talk to you. Anyone is welcome to read this, but this is directed to you.

Have any of you seen the movie version of John Grisham’s A Time to Kill? There is an incredibly powerful scene at the end where Matthew McConaughey’s character is talking to the all-white jury and asking them to imagine a little girl. Then he describes in horrible detail all the things that happened to the defendant’s daughter. And you, the audience, are sitting there, envisioning it with them. And then he says, “Now imagine that she is white.” There’s this deep collective gasp because you know, you *know* you were envisioning a black girl and you also know that once you imagined she was white, your feelings changed. Did it make you uncomfortable? Did you sit with that, or did you blow it off as a nifty trick of cinema and storytelling? I’m here to tell you that that was no trick. That was our ingrained centuries of racism peeking out. And it is long past time to deal with it.

The first thing I want you to do is to watch the news and, after every story, regardless of the victim’s gender identity, race, religion, reimagine the story so that both the perpetrator and victim are white men. If any of those new scenarios makes you feel differently, stop and ask yourself why. The answer is: all of us have been socialized to value white male bodies over all others. And after generations of both blatant and subtle indoctrination, we have a *lot* of work ahead of us to fix this.

I have always considered myself extremely liberal and progressive. I wasn’t just a person correcting friends from the shadows. I spoke out. I donated money. But I have been remiss. I have failed to realize how exhausting simply existing in our society must be for all melanin-enhanced individuals in this country, let alone excelling and achieving as many of them do. I want to share with you something I learned recently and hope it helps you, too.

Most of you know I have lost a child. My son died just shy of 11 months old from heart failure related to his CHD. Many of you know that my daughter also has a CHD. And although hers is not as complicated or severe as Patrick’s, it is still considered “complex” and will always put her life at additional risk.

Photo Credit: Jon Tyson (@jontyson)

Photo Credit: Jon Tyson (@jontyson)

As COVID began to make it’s way into our national consciousness, there were people who called it a hoax. Few took it seriously. However, many of us with CHD kids had to start taking action long before any governmental officials did. Being hyper-aware of the health hazards our kids face, we generally prefer to err on the side of safety. CHD parents were pulling their children from school a week or more before schools were actually closed. We were one of those families.

Because of COVID, for more than 3 1/2 months, I have lived in fear that someone will unknowingly bring this invisible killer near enough to my daughter to kill her, and leave me grieving a second time. Pair this with the recent anniversary of My son’s second open-heart surgery and the hospitalization that ended with him coming home in palliative care, and I am having serious physical and emotional trouble just trying to function.

Now I want you to go back to the news. I want you to imagine that every night—for years—day in, and day out, you see a person that could be your son, daughter, sister, brother, cousin, best friend, father, mother, aunt, uncle, or other loved one being brutalized or murdered. Every. Day. Some of them are even murdered live, on video. And worse, the people killing them are never held accountable, often remaining in positions of power and free to do it again.

In my world, this looks like white people running around town without masks, not washing hands, crowding together on playgrounds or at the beach like it’s any other day. It looks like white politicians telling me that making money is more important than my child’s life. It looks like people telling me to “lighten up.” Or that it’s “just the flu.” News flash! The regular flu can kill my child. In fact, it can kill perfectly healthy one’s, too! But for me, I have to live with the knowledge that general everyday growing up has the potential to kill my child. So, some days, I have such debilitating panic that getting out of bed, taking a shower, and eating are too much for me. Politicians are supposed to care about all of their constituents. They are supposed to make sure we are all taken care of. But the policies they are putting forth are putting myself and my family directly at risk. And I am angry as hell and scared as shit about it.

And in this moment, I got a small taste of American life for African Americans, Latin Americans, and other minorities. And I began to wonder, how do they even function in our world? How are they not completely overcome with grief and anger, every day? Because every day they live in fear that someone is going to bring an invisible virus into their lives and kill them or someone they love. Just looking at us, they can’t tell if we have the virus. Our words cannot reassure them. No test will give them the answer. And even if we don’t show symptoms, they know that we can shed the virus. Thus, they must be hyper-vigilant. And man, that shit is exhausting! Knowing how little I’ve achieved in the last 6 years except figuring out how to start to function again, I am only now comprehending how strong and amazing these people and their communities are that they manage to get up every day and keep going.

And even now that I have finally had a tiny opportunity to experience and understand just a small piece of what they have experienced practically since birth, I am overwhelmed with anger and sadness. Because as much as it has helped me understand, there are still depths to their pain and experiences that I will never know and never feel. Realizing just how many people are living in a world that is actively trying to kill them, it’s no wonder they are tired and angry. Quite honestly, I’m surprised they aren’t more angry. They have waited a long time. Sometimes patiently, sometimes not. They have tried talking to us nicely. They have tried showing us facts and figures. They have used research. They have used story and film. We have video that shows they get killed for no reason and the perpetrators lie about what happened.

Photo credit: frankie cordoba (@byfoul)

Photo credit: frankie cordoba (@byfoul)

We owe them more than lip service. Our country and our successes have been built on their backs and the backs of their ancestors. Our country’s governing documents promise them equal treatment under the law. They don’t have to earn it. They are entitled to it just by living here. It is long past time for us to do something about this. And if begin to feel guilty as you realize just how much they have continued to suffer at our hands even in the last 40 years? Good! Sit in it. Make yourself uncomfortable. Don’t assuage your feelings with a token gesture, either. It’s high time we stand in the trenches with our black and brown brothers and sisters. Our whiteness is a shield, and I expect to see us using it to shield our fellow citizens from continued harm until we make significant and substantial changes to the racist institutions that run this country.

Here’s another exercise for you. If you think our systems are fair and that we live in a post-racial society, I want you to volunteer to trade places with a black person. No? How come? Because regardless of whether our conscious mind will admit it, deep down we know they don’t get what we do. And here’s another news flash: when you have been privileged all your life, equality looks like discrimination. We will have to work harder for some things. But not because others are getting preferential treatment. No. It’s because we won’t be receiving preferential treatment anymore. So save your boohoo stories of blacks “taking your place” at a job or a school. How entitled do you have to be to assume that it was your spot to begin with? You want true equality? Get rid of legacies. If all those spots were opened up and everyone had to compete for them, I can guarantee you there are a lot of schools that would have very different compositions. White women and all minorities have seen white men with money and connections but no brains and no real interest in learning get admitted to highly distinguished institutes of learning that we *all* know would not get admitted if they were actually considered on the basis of their grades. So yeah. It’s gonna suck. But not because we’re being discriminated against; because we no longer get to automatically move to (or at least closer to) the front of the line. We just have to accept that the loss of our privilege is a mandatory requirement for our continued living here and receiving the freedoms this country has to offer.

And if you feel compelled to tell me about your close black friend(s), or you want to explain to me how you’re not racist, don’t bother. I am telling you, here and now: Yes, all whites! We have all perpetuated racism, whether we did so blatantly, passive-aggressively, quietly, or unknowingly. Treating others kindly, following the golden rule, doesn’t earn us a cookie or a gold star. Treating other people as humans, as equals, is required, not extra credit. That is the bare minimum. It is long past time to provide black and brown bodies of all types the things our guarantees: not just a claim to equality, but actually equal opportunity, access, and treatment. And stop looking at it like a gift we are bestowing on them. This is their due. Their right as citizens. We owe it to them. They have been entitled to, but denied, that which the laws have promised them. We are indebted to them!

This ends now. It is way past time. My eyes, my mind, and my heart have all been broken open, and I will no longer allow my country to pretend that this isn’t happening. Stand up and help us move forward, or get out of the way and left behind.

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