Copied from Cooper Blackwell Facebook Page
We can’t work together to solve issues if you can’t understand the barriers of our work! #UnityInTheCommunity is about more than just holding hands, crossing color lines and being friends with each other. It’s about shared prosperity and equitable development. It’s about realizing that systemic racism exists and fighting alongside us to fix the impossible. Colorblindness is harmful for our community and color consciousness is essential. It’s not about bringing together white people and black people, it’s about creating a culture of health and social mobility for all, but especially for those most in need. You can’t fight for equity and not acknowledge why the gaps fundamentally exists. We have to agree about the problem to fix it, not just point it out, sweep it under the rug and hope no one sees it.
Me: Ab so damn lute ly!
Copied this from Lauren Terry Mackesy Facebook page found this to be on point. Damn this is goood!
Erin Nickels said: I used to feel the same way, but then I realized that with a person’s complexion comes a story, and that story is a part of who they are. If we choose colorblindness, we’re choosing not to understand or empathize. Not everyone treats people of every color equally, and recognizing that another person’s experience in their skin is a part of who they are adds to your understanding of the person as a whole. We’re white girls from Long Island. Our skin color never necessarily made our lives any harder than they already were. That’s white privilege. Honestly I used to think “nobody ever GAVE me anything because I’m white, wtf?” But nobody ever treated me poorly JUST because I’m white either. I’m a big fan of colorblindness in terms of social niceties and mannerisms, but unfortunately the world doesn’t work that way. By seeing color, we recognize the full package. For instance, I shower, brush my hair, it dries. I’m good. Black women have to spend a lot of time and money on their hair to be taken seriously in a society that views their natural hair texture as something undesirable (which I strongly disagree with, but I’m one person). If it rains and my hair gets wet, it might look a little icky, but it will dry, I can toss it in a ponytail and move on with my day. If a black woman spent a few hours straightening her hair that same day, or spent money and time at the salon for a professional to do it, that little bit of rain is a much bigger deal for her than it is for me. Sorry for the chapter book here, I’ve just been putting a lot of thought into stuff like this lately and thought I would share what I’ve learned Check out Between the World and Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates, You Can’t Touch My Hair and Other Things I Still Have To Explain by Phoebe Robinson (SO FRIGGIN FUNNY!!), Passing by Nella Larson, and binge watch Blackish on Hulu and watch Nappily Ever After on Netflix. They’re all excellent resources for white people who want to have a better understanding of what it means to be black and why color needs to be seen and understood I haven’t delved as deeply into many other colors and cultures, but I think this is a solid start