2020 has been filled with controversy. Unfortunately much of it stems from politics. Rather than civilized debate, most of the discourse is limited to blind allegiance to political affiliations or other arbitrary allegiances. In light of that, I’ve seen a lot of people invite others to “unfriend” or “unfollow” due to their exhaustion with the unproductive arguments they are having on social media. On one hand, I think that a person’s mental health should come first, so it might be a good idea to limit access to these frustrating situations. On the other hand, if you can bare it, don’t give in.
Those people in your timeline proclaiming “all lives matter” or “blue lives matter” or other irrelevant nonsense likely live mostly in an echo chamber. They only listen to arguments that support their reality. Most of the time it may feel like you are talking to a wall, a wall fortified by various conspiracy theories concocted by their favorite news channel. Give them something to chew on. Remind them that there are some intelligent people in the world who think differently, but be tactful about it.
To be able to say “I disagree with you, so I will block you out of my life” is a privileged position. Victims of systemic racism can’t just cut out racism of their life with a click of a button. And I can almost guarantee that person could not care less whether or not you are friends with them on social media. If anything your retreat may strengthen their resolve and also removes another voice of opposition in their narrative. Plus, you are now yourself moving closer towards an echo chamber, which limits your ability to make well-reasoned arguments.
Breaking down the wall starts with a crack, and that crack has to start somewhere. Why not with you?
I’m sure many of you out there grew up like me; before I even existed, it was decided by my family that I would get a good education so that I could get a good job and have a successful life. Standing where I am now, with a college degree and about to enter medical school, it seems like education is the biggest scam of modern history.
Why be educated to become a doctor when your patients are going to continue watching Dr. Oz (who admittedly has an MD, but abandoned science long ago) and drinking snake juice?
Why dedicate your life to climate science or environmental science when on issues of climate and the environment people favor the opinions of business executives and politicians?
Why listen to a social scientists and law professors, when Candance Owens, a woman who never finished college and married a rich white guy, can tell you the reality for black people in America. (If you listen to her and not the millions of other black voices who are equally if not more educated than her who are calling for justice right now, your bias is showing).
Education is an even bigger scam for black people:
Black graduates, fresh out of college are half as likely to find employment as the average college graduate (Jones 2014). It’s worth noting, people of other heritage groups are also effected, but not as much.
White applicants with criminal records are still more likely to receive a call back than black applicants with clean records (Pager 2003).
Simply having a black-sounding names makes you less hirable (Bertrand 2004).
Don’t tell me discrimination and systemic racism doesn’t exist because the data says otherwise (for more evidence). Then again, why confront the statistics when you can tell black people to just suck it up.
There’s a lot of resources on ways to support and learn about BLM, anti-racism, anti-police brutality out there, and it’s tough to know where to start if you haven’t already.
The theme for today for BLM week of action is Divestment from the Police and Investment In Black Communitieshttps://m4bl.org/week-of-action/tuesday/ with things we can do to that end.
Avoiding political* conversations at family gatherings is commonly joked about, but obviously it stems from what many consider to be good advice. We don’t want to bring up controversial topics with our relatives lest we ruin an otherwise peaceful get-together. This leads to inevitable tongue-biting as your “sweet” great-aunt Lucy makes some borderline (or blatantly) racist remarks and recites sound bytes from her favorite political commentator. In my culture, as in many cultures around the world, respect for our elders is of the utmost importance, so when stuff like this happens we are taught to smile and keep our mouths shut. Does our silence make us complicit in the toxic, and deadly, mentality that continues to plague our world? And if so, when and how do we speak up?
The dining room a completely different battleground from the protests on the streets. No violence to document. No brutality to record. Just people who (allegedly) love each other, but have different ideas about the way the world is.
If we go out guns blazing, waving a flag of righteousness, and throwing out accusations of racism, not only will the conversation escalate very quickly into a senseless argument, you will also likely lose the respect of those you hoped to convince. Getting kicked-out or shunned by your family may feel righteous in the moment, and good for you for standing up for what you believe is right, but how does that help? You just cut-off any potential for having a meaningful conversation.
Self-identity is a simultaneously sensitive and stubborn thing. I guarantee your family members do not identify as racists (that doesn’t mean they are not), and so calling them something they are not only (or that they don’t consider themselves to be) puts them on the defensive right off the bat. They will be too busy defending their character to even consider what you have to say.
Instead, try to find common ground. See where your values align, and from there figure out where you values diverge. If they are family, they likely had a hand in raising you and thus played some role in your moral development. Appeal to that. They believe in equality and equity? Great! They think that murder is bad? Awesome! They don’t believe in institutionalized and systemic racism? Ok, let’s talk about that.
Be humble, but unwavering in your resolve. Keep in mind that however strong your beliefs, they likely have the same fervor (if not more) for their own. If you are unwilling to find value in their argument, how do you expect them to do the same for you? That doesn’t mean you have to agree with them, but it does mean you have to (as hard as it may be) recognize their good intentions.
Talk to them privately. Being called out in front the whole family is embarrassing and will be taken as a sign of disrespect. Be clear with your intentions and why you think what they said it problematic. It takes a lot for someone to admit they are (in the) wrong, even to themselves.
Talking about racism and injustice is hard. Talking about it with family is even harder. There is bound to be a lot of emotion. You’re angry and frustrated, and rightfully so, but you can’t let that get the better of you, because contrary to common practice, anger does not strengthen an argument. In fact, that’s exactly what great-aunt Lucy will be looking for, because from her perspective she is talking to an immature child, no matter how old are. That’s the truth, and she will look for any and every opportunity to label your argument invalid because it’s based on emotion rather than logic.
As such, the success of all of this depends on one crucial factor: knowing your shit. If you don’t know what you’re talking about, it’s probably is better for you to stay quiet for the time being (again different from witnessing injustice on the streets), because if your aunties and uncles are anything like mine, they’ve got Fox news running in the background 24/7 and are full of talking points as to why racism is not an issue in America.
That doesn’t mean you should give up. Educate yourself. Learn about the issues. Come back armed with evidence.
Your family is not evil (hopefully), but their outdated and evil attitudes have been developed over years and years of harmful narratives, galvanized by propaganda and the silence of those too timid to speak up. And those attitudes are zealously safeguarded by the preservation of their personal worldview. So who are you, a mere child with zero life experience (comparatively), to tell them that their life is a lie?
Don’t expect to change their beliefs right then and there. Changing hearts and minds takes time. But give them the facts. Give them new information… something new to think about. In the end there’s a good chance no amount of evidence or passion will change them, and you may decide to agree to disagree for the sake of your relationship. That doesn’t mean you lost, because you have a crucial advantage – the power of youth (a la Might Guy). The fight doesn’t end at the dinner table. You have the opportunity to live your truth and act against injustice in your community for years to come. So use it. Talk your shit. Fight for a better world now and in the future.
*wanting to end racism and murder should not be matters of politics
I talk a lot about the importance of having compassion and using a compassionate approach in all things, especially when dealing with people who think differently than you. But compassion is easily misunderstood as empathy and respect. Just because I am trying to understand the feelings of another person and I respect them doesn’t mean I sympathize with their beliefs. Compassion involves recognizing and trying to understand the suffering of others and then doing something to eliminate that suffering. Based on that definition, you cannot have compassion for those who inflict suffering. You can (try to) empathize with them and respect them as human beings, but you need not have compassion for them.
Except what I saw in the George Floyd video and what we have been witnessing around the country for since (and before) its inception is not human. The complete disregard for black lives that is occurring even up to now is sickening. It’s hard to imagine the amount poison a single person must have in their mind and in their heart to unflinchingly extinguish an innocent human life, and that poison is strong enough to contaminate the surrounding community.
As an Asian American, have I faced discrimination? Not really. My dad certainly did, and so did my ancestors. But from what they’ve described to me what they experienced is nothing compared to what black people face to this day all across this country and around the world. The violence, the looting, that’s what happens when change doesn’t happen fast enough (or at all). The question is why are people more outraged by the destruction of buildings and the loss of inventory than they are about the fact that people are dying at the hand of the police and “vigilantes” solely based on the color of their skin. I’m not saying the violence right, but peaceful approaches in support of the black community and protests against the police murdering of black people have been widely ignored and rebuked. Contrast that to just a few weeks ago when our federal governments scrambled to reopen the country as white people with assault rifles stood on the steps of government buildings demanding haircuts.
My least favorite phrase in all of this is “all lives matter.” What an useless and ignorant thing to say. Of course all lives matter. The problems is a good portion of the country doesn’t believe black lives matter. This is not some narrative spun up by the black community, or the media, or by liberals. If you are a black man in America you are around twice as likely to get killed by “law enforcement” than if you were any other race, whereas white man’s risk is less that of the average man (this already taking into account population sizes).1,2
Lastly, I also want to take a second to step back a detach any type of preconceived notions of morality. Imagine (if you don’t already believe) there is no absolute moral code. No right and wrong. Beliefs in morality come from background and experiences, but in the scope of the universe, there is no good and evil….there just is. Humans having been killing each other (and among other things) for all sorts of reason since the beginning of humankind. Does that make killing morally good? Certainly not. Does that make not killing morally good? Equally so. But we as humans evolved with unparalleled capacity for empathy, compassion, and cooperation that makes us in some ways objectively different from all other life on this planet.
It’s that capacity that compels some people to fight for those who are suffering; because something in their biology tells them that its right. For other’s, that same biology compels them to do hateful acts and makes them indifferent to the suffering of certain groups of people. But if we stand up for each other and if we fight for what we believe is right, I’m confident the compassion of the former will win out in the end…. and that would just be natures way.
Edwards F, Esposito MH, Lee H. Risk of police-involved death by race/ethnicity and place, United States, 2012–2018. American journal of public health. 2018 Sep;108(9):1241-8.
Edwards F, Lee H, Esposito M. Risk of being killed by police use-of-force in the US by age, race/ethnicity, and sex. PNAS 2019 Aug;116(34):16793-16798
I had the same dream again. Almost exactly. I even woke up at the same times. Only this time, after waking up at 2 am and staring into empty doorway, I swear for a brief moment I could make out what looked like a face before it receded into the darkness. I don’t know how to describe it. It looked like no one and everyone at the same time. Just a shadowy, nondescript visage.
Then at 5, after again feeling it lie next to me, I turned over to check, and saw light indentations on the other pillow and in my sheets, as if someone had been there.
It’s got to be all in my head. My brain giving meaning to otherwise unremarkable things.
I ran my hands over the linens to flatten them out, closed my eyes, and tried to go back to sleep. It feels closer than ever.
Last night was different that usual. It was pretty much dreamless. At one point I couldn’t tell if I was dreaming or just lying in bed awake with my eyes closed. Though somehow I could tell it was still dark in my room. There was a knock at my door and I grunted in acknowledgement as I usually do expecting the familiar voice of someone in my family.
But there was only silence. Then I heard the doorknob click and the door creek open. I cracked my eyes open to see a shadowing figure in my doorway. The figure was more or less the shape of a person, but something was off. That’s when I felt the now familiar chill of its presence. Now conscious as if woken from a nightmare, I opened my eyes fully to get a better look. It was gone and the doorway was empty, but the door itself was open. Maybe I just left it open last night, I thought.
I opened my phone to check the time: 2:00 am. I eased back into sheets and closed my eyes, trying to fall back asleep. Moments later, in the uncertainty between dream and reality, I could feel a soft shift in pressure, as if someone…or something was climbing into my bed and then laid down opposite me. It was back. Conscious once again, I opened my eyes and turned to the other side of the bed, not sure what I was expecting to see. Empty.
It seems to be getting even more comfortable now. At first, the moment I would notice its presence it would suddenly disappear. Now it seems to linger a little longer after drawing my attention….unless I’m just becoming more sensitive to it. But I swear it’s not only in my dreams anymore. Just closing my eyes, any time of day, I can feel its eager gaze fixate on me from just beyond the corner of the darkness.
It almost feels lonely, yet it doesn’t want me to know it’s there. I’m not sure what it wants, but if I can find out, maybe it’ll go away.
I’ve been having some pretty vivid dreams lately. All of them have been distinct from each other; different settings, different people, different stories, everything different….except one small thing. In every one, there’s this figure….or presence rather (I’ve never actually seen it) that watches me from a distance, and it’s been going on for a while so I thought I’d keep a record of it.
At first I thought it was a one-time thing, but soon it was every week. Then it was every other night, and now every night. I thought I could just ignore it. Ignore it and it’ll go away, I’d tell myself. But it’s still there and starting to become familiar. The thing is, it doesn’t feel particularly threatening. In fact, its presence is almost gentle, yet unsettling at the same time.
Now I’m not a huge believer in ghost or supernatural beings, but this experience makes me understand how people can believe in such things. Though I’m sure there’s reason for it. Probably just this whole quarantine thing messing with my brain chemistry.
nANIMOv 