Make Racists Afraid Again.

Sandy Jorgenson @sandsmamawrites

Normalize ending relationships over politics.

This may well disturb and divide, but hear me out.

As the 2022 midterm elections just took place and my NYT app just buzzed my phone to notify me that Adam Frisch has officially conceded to Lauren FUCKING Boebert ahead of an official recount, I’m sitting over here with smoke billowing out of my ear holes wondering how much longer we can stand living in this destitute Upside Down.

So hear me out as I process the real ramifications of this abject horse shit, the continual milquetoast disappointment of the Democratic party, and, in this very particular situation, the infuriating move of a Democratic-congressman-hopeful to lie down and die so that a flamingly racist and mind-blowingly stupid cunt like Boebert can giddily wreak havoc for two more years.

As we observe the constant and consistent rise of white supremacy in the Republican party and beyond, I know that for white people, the appeal of staying silent, of not upsetting the system carefully constructed within our hearts, our homes, our local communities, our family get-togethers, our workplaces, or any other safe space for us is shiny, snuggly, and warm. I get that.

For those of us who were raised in white families, in white neighborhoods, who went to predominantly white schools, and who were never raised in homes that had constructive conversations about race at all, thinking and talking about things like race, racism, social injustice, and police brutality might be foreign. Uncomfortable. The fear of saying or doing the wrong thing might be keeping you from the act of saying or doing something at all.

But this is what I need to call out. If a white person calls themself ✨not racist✨ but does nothing to bolster their or anyone else’s education on the matter, they aren’t ✨not racist✨ at all.

As white people, we are living in a binary system that categorizes us as either racist, or anti-racist. It’s one or the other—there is no neutral, in-between area. We are either actively racist, passively racist, or actively anti-racist. What this means is that we either consciously discriminate, unconsciously discriminate, or openly call out discrimination, recognize personal prejudices, unlearn/relearn/educate, pay reparations to Black individuals as we’re able, and challenge people in our lives to do the same.

Being actively anti-racist means breaking our white silence, putting our white fragility in check, and building up some serious callouses as we break from white solidarity. Those are the callouses we garner from showing other white people that the color of our skin in relation to theirs does not give them a pass.

There are no accolades for this work. No trophies, no ribbons, no acknowledgement, and no congratulations whatsoever. Further, it requires from us an understanding that there is no arrival, no end of the road, and no point at which we get to stop to rest on our laurels and consider our work done.

This work asks a lot of us. We’re called to show up, listen, read, reflect, admit guilt, and have increasingly difficult conversations. And the latter, you know, requires the breaking of that white solidarity default. If a person’s politics drives them to sit idly by while all this havoc is wreaked, if their politics permit them to close their eyes and plug their ears while their leaders strip uterus-bearers of their autonomy, chomp at the bit to criminalize the parents and health care providers of trans children, keep children in cages, and tell you that that slain Black person should’ve just behaved – if that person is unwilling to listen, hear, and subsequently change course, they don’t deserve access to you. To any of us.

I don’t want you to assure me that they’re good people, either. (They aren’t.) Why would you be inclined to believe this, anyway? Is it because they’re good to you personally, to your children, to their family, and to their white peers in the congregation of their white church?

Hear me when I say this: if a person is not good TO or ABOUT people of color, members of the LGBTQIA+ community or any other marginalized group that suffers gravely at the hands of the American government, then they are not good.

This idea—making racists afraid again—starts with us.

But if we can’t make them afraid, then the least we can do is make them embarrassed, ashamed, and unwelcome in our spaces. Boundaries serve us well, and drawing a line in the sand sends a message that everyone ought to heed.