Simply an American
A few days ago, I initiated a refreshingly authentic conservation with a white dude living and working near Salt Lake City. Yes, I did say that “I initiated” a discussion with a white person because, despite the growing racial divide and tensions fomenting in every American community, I can still choose kindness over anger. That does not mean I am comfortable with white people because I’m certainly not. All it means is that I am deliberately choosing not to give myself a right to hate others. Period.
As Ryan launched into the typical transactional jargon associated with conducting business, I interrupted him and asked if we could restart the conversation with a question. “Since we are both survivors of a horrible global pandemic that has forced us to exist in tiny spaces, do you mind if I ask you first, ‘How are you doing?’” One of the more profound insights COVID-19 has given me is the frailty of life. It could be gone in less than the flash of a moment, and getting lost in the myriad of meaningless daily transactions has become profoundly unacceptable. If only for a few fleeting moments, my inner-being craved to connect with Ryan on a level of our shared humanity.
I appreciate how Ryan’s sincere response led to a seamless opportunity to transparently share my pain of waking up a Black man in America every day, which is becoming progressively more difficult since #45. Unlike all the other white folks, Ryan did not become offended, dismissive, or deny my truth and reality. He didn’t make excuses nor exempt himself with arguments about how good a person he is, etc. – he simply listened attentively and responded with a level of empathy that gave me hope. That was a fantastic experience to have with a white person these days. “Thank You, Ryan.”
I knew Ryan was connecting with me on a human level when he asked if he could pose one of “those” questions most white people are afraid to ask. Thankfully, he was not afraid to ask, nor was I apprehensive about responding because, within a matter of a few minutes, we had established a basic level of transparency and trust. And I believe his question was sincere and legitimate, yet could only be tabled in a setting of honesty, which we had accomplished.
“Richard, do you think of yourself as an African American or Black American? Technically you’re not black, neither are you from Africa.” Wow! What a powerful question that is worthy of an intelligent response. Ryan’s curiosity was not fueled by racism or erroneous perceptions about people of color; he truly wanted to understand a social norm that can even be confusing to “African/Black” Americans. It’s a righteous question!
“Ryan, I would prefer to be recognized as an American. But unfortunately, from the beginning, white people have smeared us with degrading, and hurtful labels: “Nigger, Cotton-picker, Colored, Coon, Tar Baby, Goons, Thugs, Monkeys, etc., but never have they referred to me as a ‘Fellow American’”. I would like to simply be an American with all the equal rights, privileges, and opportunities afforded to every white American.
Although this excellent conversation with Ryan has not changed my daily realities, it did provide a sense of hope that a few honest white Americans are looking for a change. Oh, God! Thank You for giving Ryan the courage to make a moral stand against what is wrong and to take risks to engage me with authenticity and respect as a fellow human.
