“It is white America who invited them in, and it is white America who has the responsibility to see them out.”
Said by Black Lives Matter Nashville, in a statement about why the group decided not to participate in counter-protests to respond to White Lives Matter Counter Protests.
Not only does the action of taking part in counter protests distract from the “destructive ways systematic white supremacy rallies against the lives of black and brown folks in Middle Tennessee and this country every day,” but groups like black lives matter urge that just it isn’t their job to.
And it isn’t.
This is a sentiment I have heard plead by many African Americans, especially in the wake of Trump’s election of 2016. The notion that confronting racism, calling it out, advocating for “its end” should not be the job of the marginalized group. The words “Allyship isn’t enough” seem to echo.
With their statement, BLM Nashville asks for their well-meaning, antiracist allies to renounce from their comfortable distance. BLM takes pride in expressing themselves, themselves, but when it comes to the distracting, derailing, and often dangerous counterparts of racist White Lives Matter groups, it is up to the species of its same kind to prod them away, and potentially keep black lives safe and existing from the menace of this anti-black supremacy response.
Many white activists I see on social media and in opinion editorial writing take acceptance in this grant issued by black activists. They hastily oblige– though with caution and questions to follow. They don’t want to say too much. They don’t want to say to little. Most of all, they don’t know what to say. But how Collier Meyerson, a black contributor to the opinion website Splinter News puts it, that is more in the right direction than nothing at all. Because, “there’s no clear path or prescription for how white allies should operate in a movement led by black and brown people—that’s part of the work.”
Part of the work. The same work BLM Nashville mentions needing, when attempting to juggle their own issues of injustice, toppled over by the counter protesting of White/All Lives Matter groups. The work of responsibility, accountability, the work of sacrificing comfort. The work of asking less questions, and taking more cues. The work of taking orders, but not relying on them for more. The work of stepping into the unknown, the work of attempting to move in the right direction. Meyerson says, “It’s not the usual order of things, but it’s the way forward.”
This spoke to me, the idea of this not being the usual order of things. There isn’t a right way yet, but there are surely a lot of wrong ones, and that is the duty of the white ally. To be in limbo, to dodge the errors of their contemporaries and be better than their predecessors. This “not the usual order of things,”–this uncertainty–reminds me that we’re in the wake of something new. This isn’t how activism has always been. That something new actually evokes excitement to me. Lowercase excitement.
So, I’d say, that this is the call to end perfunctory activism.
This is a really interesting piece about a very important issue. As you cite BLM activists as saying in the second paragraph, “allyship is not enough,” but many white people freeze up at the thought of stepping outside our comfort zone to do the work of activism that it is necessary for us to take on. I think you address this problem in an effective way– it’s clear that you did research for this essay, and quoting experts whose writing you’ve read or whose activism you’ve witnessed helps supplement the points you’re making. I especially like the strategy you take in the second to last paragraph, when you list what exactly the work of showing up for racial justice as a white person entails, breaking it down into small parts (“ask less questions, take more cues,” “take orders, but don’t rely on them”) so that anyone curious about what they can do to help the cause can have some concrete ideas for how to start doing so.
This writing makes me think of the writer Marlon James’s response to being asked, one to many times, to sit on panels to discuss racism and diversity:
https://lithub.com/marlon-james-why-im-done-talking-about-diversity/
And it makes me think, too, of this podcast I may have mentioned in class: *Seeing White*: http://podcast.cdsporch.org/seeing-white/
I recall moments from classes over the years where the awkwardness of difficult conversations seemed to make people uncomfortable (even too uncomfortable). But your lesson here seems to be that discomfort is going to be part of the way forward for white people, white activists and allies. This is something we need to say more, I think—to invite into our classes and our meetings and our rallies and our public events the sort of awkwardness and discomfort that might open new eyes to white supremacy.
Extremely strong and clear piece of writing here. With a point loudly and successfully addressed.
This part stuck out to me: “They don’t want to say too much. They don’t want to say to little. Most of all, they don’t know what to say.” That couldn’t be written better, its tone is perfect, and I appreciate how that section doesn’t mind easily tackling one of those truths that some people don’t like publicly vocally and explicitly addressing as a reality. I’m also familiar with Meyerson’s writing, and citing her thoughts in the piece makes the piece stronger, and only bolsters and further contextualizes the writer’s argument. The last line, of course, is also a declaration that perfectly distills the entire piece all over in one go.