An Open Letter to Non-White America
I am sorry I was complacent.
I am sorry I discounted the bigotry I saw in the white people around me and dismissed it as “harmless.” I was so certain that they were a rare breed who would fade away with time. I thought the fading had already begun.
My response to racism and homophobia was a passive one. Some time ago, I reduced my participation with the community in which I was raised. I stepped away from them, but I kept tenuous lines of communication and connection, enough that everything was comfortable for all involved.
I turned my attention to more violent acts of racism. I preached in my YouTube videos about learning about lived experiences other than your own.
I was not able to march, but I spoke in support of the Black Lives Matter movement. This got me into some minor arguments with friends and family, but nothing too drastic.
Everything remained safe. Comfortable. I knew sexism and racial inequality were there, but as long as it wasn’t too blatant, I thought it was harmless.
Then the election happened.
Before Tuesday, November 8th, I thought America had a Clinton Presidency in the bag. I thought she was a sure thing. I thought we as a country had advanced to the point where electing a misogynistic, homophobic racist reality TV show star with no government or military experience was impossible.
I was incredibly wrong about America.
That is on me, and on other white people like me.
Because I was a little bit better than the blatant racists who attack you every day on Twitter, I arrogantly let myself think I was “woke.”
I busied myself taking stands against white people who thought they could use the n-word, who said “those people.” I took a stand against police brutality—which, whoah, what a brave thing to say! How selfless of me to say cops shouldn’t shoot unarmed citizens in the street.
But while I did this, I ignored the ugly side of racism that was lurking on the edges of my social circles. I ignored the ignorance. I discounted the pursed lips and the mutters about Obama.
That lurking racism, as it turned out, was even more powerful than the acute racism that was easy to spot. And it propelled Trump into the Presidency, when he should have never even been a candidate.
There’s no clearer demographic to blame for this than white people. We’re the ones who voted for Trump in overwhelming numbers—not people of color.
And after his victory, it’s white people—especially white men—who have been committing acts of violence against you. Also against white women, but mostly against men and women of color.
My family and erstwhile friends aren’t the ones ripping hijabs from the heads of Muslim women, or grabbing women by the genitals because they have a Bernie Sanders sticker on their car, or manhandling women and asking for their green cards.
But that’s the terrifying and dangerous thing about racism. The more powerful part of it isn’t the active participants, but the silent majority who enable it.
I should have learned that lesson before, but I’ve learned it now.
And I promise not to be part of that silent majority any longer.
Since election night, I no longer put up with the snide, subtle tentacles that racism sends slithering through the online discourse I take part in. My Facebook has been nuclear.
I have heard the point that you have made: that after we claimed to be progressive liberals, we are going to sit down and have Thanksgiving dinner with people who voted to take away, not our rights, but yours.
That is not going to happen, at least not with me.
I have already denounced the Trump supporters I know. Until they change their ways and stop acting in a manner that hurts you and this country, they’re not welcome in my life.
I promise to fight a Trump presidency and Trump policies with everything in me, committing every resource I can commit while keeping my wife and children safe.
Those resources are pitiful compared to the task at hand. But I know there are others out there like me, and I hope we can make a difference.
I will never let acts of discrimination and bigotry happen near me without getting involved. I will speak online from every platform available to me against what this country is doing to you.
In my still very small, but slowly growing business, I promise to hire artists of color in order to amplify their voices and narratives.
And beyond that, I am just so sorry. I am sorry that most the people of my race have always considered you beneath us.
You don’t need me to tell you that isn’t true. You don’t need me to tell you that you are incredible, and contribute far more to this country than it has ever deigned to give you in return.
You don’t need me to tell you that, but I need you know I believe it.
If I can help, tell me how. And in the meantime, I will do the best I can in my lane.
Please be safe.
