Run

by Miranda Chapman

I remember vividly the first time I felt called out on being racist and having white privilege. I was in high school at a forum for multiculturalism. In hindsight I am astounded at the speed with which the white fragility came rushing in, how I pulled my white friends in closer around me, defensive, and refused to believe I had any kind of privilege, white or otherwise. We whispered to each other of reverse racism and feeling attacked. We hunkered down further into our delusion of innocence and pulled the blanket of whiteness around us tighter. I dug deeper into my story of lack and hardship refusing to acknowledge my complicity in the oppression of others. I waved my flag of feminism, that I could understood all oppression because I had been oppressed as a woman, running from the truth of intersectionality, the truth of white supremacist root systems that run heinously deep and are insidiously pervasive. I remember when the allure of the “oneness” peddled by so many folks in the waters I swim in of yoga and meditation and healing helped me to silence the oppressed and to obscure any responsibility I could claim in perpetuating these systems. I remember learning about internalized racism and the hackles raised: “Not me!” The voices clamored. “You’re an activist, a world traveler, a progressive neo-hippie out to change the world! Not me! That person over there but not me!” I remember when I finally began the journey to face my own racism and the immense sigh of relief a dear, dear friend took when I didn’t shout “Not me!” at her again.

As I spiral down into the dark and dank depths of the infected wound of whiteness and all the ways it has polluted my thinking and actions and beliefs, I must remember all the ways I ran away before. I must remember so as to galvanize the energy for the long haul, to keep turning towards this infection even in the presence of great rage, grief, fear, guilt, shame, confusion, overwhelm, discomfort, pain. I must remember so as to apply the balms of forgiveness and love and readiness to take up this task: to methodically, meticulously unearth, pull up, draw out this deeply rooted infection of white supremacy and to conserve the energies once expended in running away towards a more valiant exercise: honoring this vast, varied quilt of humanity and stepping back so that others, perennially silenced voices, can step forward