This past week, as the United States was grappling with George Floyd’s murder and waking up to its racist history in ways that are long overdue, I was waking up to the fact that the subjects of much of the art that came with this ancient mountain house of ours were Confederate generals, venerated for defending slavery.
How did I walk by the hulking image of Stonewall Jackson every night as I entered my bedroom and not shudder? How did I not take offense to the two different Robert E. Lee likenesses downstairs? I’ll tell you how. Denial brought to you by privilege.
It was much easier to see-while-not-really-seeing. I knew the people who owned the house before us were “art people.” They apparently bought “good” art that I felt grateful was being left behind along with everything else, down to the silverware, when we bought the house almost a decade ago. I never thought to question the art’s subject matter, the message it conveyed or the energy it was putting into our home. I was just happy I didn’t have to decorate.
Let me summarize. I found it acceptable to ignore images of slavery defenders hanging on my own walls because it saved me time and energy in the decorating department. I didn’t examine the art because on some level I knew it wasn’t in line with my values. I could look away because my family tree was not ripped apart by the enslavement the Confederate generals protected.
It seems an irony of grand proportions that I would discover all this in perfect synchronicity with this national time of reckoning for our country. That this would be the summer I finally opened my eyes looked at everything in this house. And really saw it for what it was.
I lead a women’s wellness check-in via Zoom every Wednesday (email me for access code), and this past week, I took Stonewall Jackson off the wall on camera as part of a discussion on discovering our own blind spots. Not everyone’s blind spots are as tangible (and as easily removed) as Confederate art, but it got us talking and sharing and wanting to get rid of anything in our emotional and spiritual houses that helps perpetuate the systemic racism in this country.
This led to discussions of inner and outer work to be done. The good news is there is much to do for those who want to be change agents. The flip side is the paralysis that can ensue when faced with so many ways to help combined with a fear of doing it “wrong.”
While I don’t have the answers and the most important voices to be listening to now are those whose families have endured the burden of racism for centuries, I can share with you what I’ve learned, from my own awakening-in-process and from watching others’. It’s my hope that if each of us shares a bit as we move through this, we can give some respite to overburdened people of color who are besieged with requests to help white people understand this issue and tell them how to fix it.
The biggest takeaway I’ve had in recent weeks revolves around responding from a place of personal authenticity, rather than trying to conform to an idea of what we think an ally or activist “should” look like.
RESPOND CONGRUENTLY
What does that mean? It means you don’t have to become someone you are not to become an anti-racism activist. Your brand of activism doesn’t have to look like everyone else’s. It will be more effective if your anti-racism activism is congruent with who you are. Activism doesn’t necessarily mean taking to the streets in protest. Artist Ann Johnson spoke on this topic during the Awakening Movement’s Solace & Serenity service this morning. She said, “Let your art be your activism.” Let’s lean into that and let our lives be our activism.
If you are a reader… Read books by African American authors—non-fiction books on anti-racism, white fragility and allyship as well as novels that artistically portray the experience of being Black in America and elsewhere. My daughter took this a step further, ordering her copy of Layla Saad’s Me & White Supremacy from Mahogany Books, the premier online bookstore for African American books.
If you are a social media influencer… Use your platform to highlight voices of African Americans. Shine a spotlight on voices that your audience needs to hear. While you’re at it, diversify your feed. Whether you’re an influencer or just an avid scroller, you need voices of people of color included in the social media messaging you are absorbing.
If you are a gardener/artist/baker… Buy your supplies from Black-owned businesses. My friend Jenn researched and posted a list of Black-owned gardening centers in and around Seattle. This is a perfect example of turning your life—the one you’re already living—into activism.
If you are an art-lover… Seek out work by African American artists—buy it, post it and go see exhibits of it as galleries and museums begin opening. And, per the opening of this post, if you own art that is not in line with your values, sell it and donate the proceeds to anti-racism organizations. And the blank places it leaves on your walls? Fill it with art from those African American artists you just discovered.
If you are religious… Find a diverse community within which to explore your faith. If you are worshipping God in a community that is devoid of racial diversity, you are creating a space where God is reflected only in whiteness.
If you are a writer… Write blog posts, articles and opinion pieces, pointing to the work and words of people of color. Align yourself with or collaborate with writers of color to ensure your perspective is not limited to your own lived experience. Promote writers of color in your circle of influence.
I will close by saying that the truest work we can all do right now is not to fabricate new lives for ourselves, but to live our existing lives with new consciousness and an ignited commitment to change. If you are a woman interested in a safe place to explore your own unexamined ideas about race and culture, my friend Tracie Jae (aka The Quiet Rebel) is hosting Hear Our Voices, a virtual space for grace-filled dialogue on race and culture this Saturday evening, June 13. I am one of her circle leaders, and I would love to see you there!
I know some of us are overwhelmed by the sheer volume of information, but I am including a select list of inspiring Black creators in the spiritual/artistic/justice realm who I have some personal connection to (I.e., they are friends, I’ve worked with them, or I’ve attended an event they’ve hosted). Please add your own suggestions in the comments.
Christena Cleveland (Author/Activist and Director for the Center for Justice + Renewal)
Tracie Jae (Founder, The Quiet Rebel)
Ann Johnson (Artist, Educator & Curator)
Jacqui Lewis (Pastor, Middle Church NYC)
Tia Norman (Pastor, Awakenings Movement Houston)
Yeye Luisah Teish (Author, Ritualist & Editorial Consultant)
Lanecia Rouse Tinsley (Artist)