Day After #BlackOutTuesday: Dedicating Time to Reading Black Fiction Authors

woman looking at sunset
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Well, here we are, a day after #BlackOutTuesday. I feel like America went through one giant self-awareness “aha” moment during a difficult therapy session. And now we’re all trying to figure out how to change things for the better. It’s hopeful.

I am certainly no one to lecture, and hell, this fight is nothing new. People of color have been screaming about it for generations. All I’m doing now is trying to join as a support and ally. I’m learning what it means to be anti-racist (admittedly, a new term I learned yesterday).

#BlackOutTuesday gave me a lot to think about. I’m Jewish, so I understand on a certain level what dealing with prejudice is like, because yes, I’ve dealt with anti-Semitism. I also know what it feels like to have my non-Jewish friends stand up for me and show solidarity, and it feels pretty damn good. 

But I’m also ridiculously white, like “spend five minutes in the sun and turn into a tomato” white. Which means I benefit from white privilege, because when I walk into a store, or get pulled over by the cops, or go for an evening walk in my neighborhood, people don’t see a “Jewish woman.” They see a “white woman.” For this reason, my friends who are people of color live a different experience than me.

Yesterday, I learned just how different.

And it made me cry. My heart bled for some of the experiences my friends shared with me. I have not found it in myself to watch the video of George Floyd’s death, because the images alone are traumatizing to me. I know his last word. His poor mother.

I realized that because I have the luxury of turning off the news and tuning out the injustice for a bit means that I benefit from white privilege. Because those who don’t benefit cannot just turn off the news. This is their reality.

So now, what will I do about this new realization?

Read. That’s what I’ve decided to do. Read. And LISTEN. And LEARN. I know some stuff, but not nearly enough.

I’ve made a personal commitment to begin choosing fiction books to read by black American authors about the authentic black experience in America. Usually, I choose books to read based on the plot or writing. This time, I’m making a conscious decision to choose based on the author, because nothing transports me into another pair of shoes like reading a strong fiction novel.

And on my blog here, I’ll be reviewing these books. I’ll promote their authors. I’ll talk about what I learned, and will simply share my journey.

I’m currently reading an ARC of a new book releasing in early July, so after I finish that, I’ll begin this new path. I invite you to follow my blog if you want to learn with me, and together, we can work toward creating a more empathetic world, a more just world, a more inclusive world, and a safer world for EVERYONE.

White People, Reach Out to Your Black Friends Right Now

Me in California this summer

This picture above, this is me: a white woman in America. And this post is to other white people in the country we all call home. Because, white people, we have a responsibility to our neighbors of color in this very moment, and we cannot let that responsibility fall away.

White people, I urge you to reach out to your black friends right now and ask them if they are doing OK. Ask them how you can support them. And then be ready to listen. REALLY LISTEN.

You might hear things that challenge you. That’s OK. You might hear things that make you uncomfortable. That’s OK. You might hear things that make you cry. That’s OK.

I just had a deep conversation with a dear friend who is black this morning, and she challenged me. She helped me understand context in a more profound way, and how her daily experience differs so drastically from mine. My privilege is real, and our conversation of love reflected it back to me. I could not hide from it. I needed to hear these things, because only then can I acknowledge how concrete racism still is in our country.

What we’re seeing in the news today—the riots and protests and calls for justice for George Floyd—this goes far beyond the justified anger against and fear of today’s police (some of whom support the calls for justice, too, and some of them are my friends).

This goes back generations.

And while we ALL need breaks from the news and the world and life, we cannot keep burying our heads in the sand if we want to come out of this a changed nation for the better. I believe we can unite as one again, but that will only start if we listen, truly listen.

White people, reach out to your black friends right now. They need to hear from us.