written by Love Isn’t Enough contributor Renee; originally published at Womanist Musings
I was reading Spark in Darkness when I came across the following question:
If a friend or relative makes a racist or homophobic remark, do you tend to confront them or let it slide? Are you more likely to confront them if it offends you directly or someone else who seems reluctant to speak up?
I believe that the answer to the above question speaks very loudly about a personal commitment to social justice. Even though one claims to have a desire to confront isms and deal with undeserved privilege, if we allow comments to pass that devalue another, there is not real desire to fight for equality. A freedom fighter must have the courage of their convictions.
My children taught me courage. Before I had them, though I did not believe in homophobia, transphobia, sexism or classism, I was more likely to let it pass. After my first child began to speak, I started thinking about unintended lessons. I realized that through my silence, I was teaching him that the very things that I claimed to abhor were acceptable. I learned to speak out because I wanted my children to grow believing in the equal value of each and every single human being. In the eight years since I have been a mother the most important lesson that I have learned, is to have the courage of my convictions.
I have not always been perfect. At my former job, I remember an incident when someone used a homophobic slur. In fact he said, “I hate New York because it has too man F#gs”. The man in question was clearly a dolt, but the thought of calling him out at the company picnic, when we were all supposed to be having fun was too much. I invoked my privilege and remained silent. In the back of my mind, I worried about being thought of as too abrasive or sensitive. I had already developed a reputation because I spoke freely about race. The decision to remain silent is something that bothers me to this day. I look back at that moment and see it is a time of personal failure. I cannot even claim that I didn’t know his speech was offensive.
I suppose the answer to the question would be that I have not always been faithful to my beliefs, but hopefully as I grow and find the courage, I will speak far more often than I will remain silent. I see connections that I did not when I was young. I understand that one isms supports another and I have learned to listen. I may not always get it perfect because there is so much I need to learn, but at least I am committed to walking through this life with a deep and abiding belief in the goodness and worth of each person.
Your turn dear readers, have you found the courage of your convictions?
I used to speak up more; now that I am an adult and find myself having to network with other adults (vs. a child-adult relationship), I speak up less. Luckily, this is more because I come in contact with fewer people who use slurs since moving to the Southeast than fear on my part, but I will admit I panic a little bit when I hear such ugliness.
Unfortunately, most of the slurs I come in contact with are through my parents, and I tolerate it because we’re all three of us tired of having the same conversation over and over again.
I find it difficult to say anything when it is family causing the problem. My mother’s husband, for example, regularly makes remarks about Mexicans and Black people (coded, of course – most of the time) and my general response is to just walk away. We have a strained relationship as it is and I don’t want to start a feud with a cowboy.
Friends, on the other hand, usually get at least an eye-roll, depending on the severity of the comment. We know each other well enough to hear the objection even when nothing is said.
i used to just fume inside. then i adopted a child of another race/culture. now i speak up. it makes me sad, embarrassed and honestly somewhat angry at myself to know that it took something so blatantly personal to make that step.
I do speak up more. Just had to recently with a relative whos significant other thinks racist jokes are funny. my relative called me with a few “hillarious jokes” they were quite racist.I was stunned. stunned.. I am a mother of a black child, a guatemalan child and 2 white children. I DONT think jokes at others expense are funny. At my childrens expense ? Still not funny. I put my foot down. had too. ALL people have feelings and they should be respected.
Nope, I haven’t found all my courage. I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately, even before I read this post at Renee’s site.
A couple of weeks ago, in a small gathering of my good friends at my house one guy, James, got going on a “joke” about Native Americans and alcohol smuggling. It was met with nervous smiles and a quick change of topic. I think James caught himself even and looked pretty sheepish. I’ve been going over it in my head ever since. woulda shoulda coulda stuff.
But then, I challenged another friend, Babak, about what I perceived to be a very classist judgement of people who don’t maintain their health in a way that meets his approval. People may not have picked up on the classism, I thought. It was over Facebook, so it drew out about 6 different forms of derailment from Babak and his friends (strangers to me.) I was pretty sure that he was feeling pretty smug about himself and that he’d deny any wrong-doing, which was exactly what happened.
I’m not sure why I spoke up one time and not the other. But I think it has something to do with how I perceived the speaker, audience, and obviousness of the offence.
I’ve been thinking more about it as I write this comment and I realise that one of my TRUE motivations in each case reflects badly on me. It was at least in part about the payoff I was going to get for drawing people into and “winning” the fight. I felt like Babak needed to be taken down a notch and I was pretty sure that I was going to be able to score a very satisfying KO. Whereas, with James, I anticipated a quick “Yep, you’re right,” although I’m still not sure whether it would have been sincere or just avoidance.
I’m definitely one to speak up. Most of the time, it’s my mom making these comments, others its my grandmother. I’m 19, so if I say something, I’m not supposed to because I haven’t lived long enough to see the world. But how old do you have to be to know that some things are just ignorant?
Depending on the situation, I will play the “Why is that funny?” card. Sometimes I say “I am not going to have this conversation with you” and walk away. That second one is usually in the work-place.
I have also found that both silence and walking away CAN have impact. As a child, I was not permitted to speak up, but my mother would let me leave the room. As I only stood up and walked out when someone said something racist, it was pretty clear that I was offended.
A little while back, driving my husband’s grandmother around, she began making racist “conversation” with me and I simply acted like she wasn’t speaking until she changed the subject. She never did this with me again – AND she had nothing she could be defensive about.
As long as it’s not a situation where silence may be taken to mean agreement, I have found it can be powerful. Silnce with a stern face or walking away when someone needs you to stay can mean something. I have stood up and silently closed my office door in a co-workers face once too. It was ruder but not ruder than what he was standing in my doorway saying.
As for classism, I have been known to say things like, “Several members of my family live or have lived in trailers. None of us are trash.” Then…walk away without another word.
Or to people saying homeless people are lazy or losers TO ME, I’ll ask “Do you think I am a loser?” (I have a pretty nice income now) “No,” they’ll reply. “Well, I’ve been homeless,” I’ll say. Usually at THAT point, THEY don’t have another word.
I don’t think I am very brave, and I find that it’s best to say or do things that do leave the “I didn’t mean it that way” road open…
Sorry for the typos – I meant – that does NOT leave the “I didn’t mean it that way” road open.
As I have typo fingers today, I won’t try to correct the rest
I seem to have no problem saying something either in person or on Facebook when the comments are made by friends/acquaintances, but I have a much harder time doing what’s right and opening my mouth when it comes to family. In person, I can — and have — leave the room or walk away from someone who is mid-ignorant sentence, but online it’s a lot harder. I wish I could say something without either starting a war or sounding too wimpy but it’s hard to find a middle ground. Sometimes I say “I’m hitting my imaginary DISLIKE! button right now!” but other times I don’t have the guts, and am later ashamed. Any advice as how to handle things in the future?
As the parent of two children of color, and a 43-year old adult who is beyond being concerned about what people think of me personally (that is the beautiful part of aging!), I do think that it is my responsibility to address racist behavior whenever it is appropriate (which is the majority of the time). It is not a luxury that we can switch off or on. The method of how racist comments should be addressed varies with the age of the person and the nature of their comment, but not doing something is not an acceptable solution for me.