Time to read: 1.5 minutes. The development of understanding? Worth every second
My babies
Many of you know that I'm based in Minnesota. This week, another Black man was shot, and we are in the middle of Derek Chauvin's trial for killing George Floyd. People are sad, angry and fed up. Our city is on edge. So, today I'm writing in that context and honestly, I have to hit send on this newsletter before I lose my nerve.
I want to talk about blind spots.
Last summer, my teenage daughter wanted to attend a protest after the murder of George Floyd. Every parent worries about their children out in the world. And after a week of helicopters over our house, neighbors reporting SUVs with no license plates on our street, and friends who own a hotel describing their Covid-empty rooms suddenly filled with people from out of town, the fear was beyond a regular Saturday night.
An important fact: My daughter is brown.
And this is not a story about her.** This is a story about blind spots and what it takes to create understanding. Ultimately, IMHO, understanding, relationship and love are what will get us out of the mess we're in.
Back to the protest and the fear.
After my girl left the house, I texted a friend of mine who is Black. Our children go to school together.
Here is our text string:
Me: On Tuesday, P went to the Capital to protest with a number of school friends. On her way out the door, I quizzed her on what to do in response to the police (comply), how to make sure her friend group stays together, how to keep her eyes open for danger.
As she walked down the sidewalk, I cannot describe how I felt. Disembodied is the word I'll use. It's like a circuit breaker tripped. I thought of you. I'm embarrassed to say this. I saw for the first time what I imagine mothers of color feel like every single time they let their kids out the door. My fear was in my bones. As a white mom of a brown child, I realized I've been doing everything I can to keep her in a safe bubble until what? She's old enough to handle the world? Until the world changes?
Friend: That is what it feels like to be a black mom, sister, wife EVERYDAY.
Me: In that moment, all I could do was make sure she was as prepared as she could be and let her go, hoping the world will love her as much as I do. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to get it.
Friend: I sincerely appreciate your words and your time and your authenticity.
It look a visceral, physical experience for me to finally understand. And, it should have taken a lot less for me to get it. (To be clear, this "should" is not coming from shame or beating myself up. It's coming from ownership and recognition that I can do better.) If we're willing, we can shine a light on our blind spots and one step and one relationship at a time, turn the world into the place we want it to be.
Maya Angelou said, "Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better."
That's what I've got for this rough week.