It took me a while to find my place in the movement for racial justice. I am a white cis woman who is privileged to work and organize in many areas. My business card says that I am a “white anti-racist/ anti-oppressive therapist, clinical supervisor, coach, trainer, consultant, and organizer.  As you can see, I wear a lot of hats, and they all focus on anti-racism and anti-oppression. I have learned a lot in the past few years about my own internalized and systemic racism.  The more I do this work, the more I understand that this is life work.  There is no finish line where I get to say, “I’m done, I’ve learned everything there is to learn and now I’m an expert”. As long as I live, I will be learning. And learning sometimes means making mistakes which will inevitably cause unintentional harm; AND  I must be willing to authentically apologize and stay the course.

As I continue to learn more about myself, it has become clearer how to use my voice to dismantle systemic racism. I do a lot of work and organizing in mixed-race spaces, but the majority of my work is with other white people. I believe that everyone has a role to play in dismantling racism and creating racial equity; however, because BIPOC and white people are impacted differently by racism, we have different work to do. I have experienced the power and impact that can happen when working in white spaces with other white folks. I understand that there are pros and cons to this method. There is always a risk of replicating the behaviors of white supremacy culture in all-white groups. However, working in all-white spaces is also a way to alleviate some of the undue burden on BIPOC that often occurs in integrated spaces.  In integrated groups, there can be a reinforcement and overreliance on white people to receive approval from BIPOC, and it can create an excuse for us to not do our own work. Working in all-white groups can provide an opportunity for white people to practice building our anti-racist muscles and grapple together with the ways that white supremacy culture and internalized racial superiority impact us and our relationships with BIPOC. Doing this work with other white people can give us the necessary skills and emotional bandwidth to be in mixed spaces without centering ourselves. Doing our own work allows us to join interracial spaces without the fragility that often makes us defensive and harmful. Only then can we really “show up” and work together with BIPOC to tackle and dismantle racism. 

I have found that my voice is most powerful when I am vulnerable and willing to talk about the ways I have messed up and caused harm, especially in white spaces. When I am willing to reveal the really shameful and embarrassing thoughts I’ve had and sometimes still grapple with, I have the most impact. When I am vulnerable and courageous about sharing, it usually makes other people feel less alone and less ashamed.  There is freedom and relief in knowing that you are not alone.  The feeling of shame and aloneness can be dark and isolating. These feelings impact our ability to connect authentically with our whole selves.  If we white folks don’t deal with these thoughts and feelings, they keep us stuck in ignorance and shame.  If we don’t work through and metabolize these feelings and thoughts, we will continue to cause harm to BIPOC in our interactions and relationships. This will ultimately prove ineffective in our fight to dismantle racism.  Vulnerability is not easy. It can feel very risky, and sometimes it is. It may mean being judged, it may mean loss of relationships or job status, but I have found that vulnerability is a superpower. So, I choose vulnerability. What about you?