An Open Letter to Myself

At first I addressed this letter: "an open letter to everybody".

But that felt waaaaaay too audacious and presumptuous.

Especially considering my intentions: I was planning on heavy criticism, and it wasn't going to be polite.

But how could I speak rebuke with any authority to the experiences of people who live and operate in cultures I've never experienced-- or never even heard of?

Could I offer anything valid?

Obviously, I could not.

So I changed the address of this letter to "White Americans"...

That's the most obvious demographic I fall into, and I think, the one I understand the most.

But even then, not all of us are the same.

White America does embody certain failings and we carry certain calls to responsibility, and that's worth talking about.

But still, within our broad demographic we range countless sub cultures, politics, and persuasions.

... And the more I thought about it, the more I had to admit: there's only one way to narrow this letter enough to make it applicable to every addressee....

In the whole world there's only one person who I'm totally comfortable rebuking. I'd have to address this letter to me.

So listen up self: prepare to be admonished.

Because when you saw that "We Have a Dream" Contest here on vocal, you got excited.

You pride yourself on rejecting hate. You pride yourself on embracing inclusive ideologies and loving all people. You pride yourself on being introspective, on digging out and dismantling your own biases. But what good has that done anyone?

You care about equity and inclusion and you delude yourself into thinking you've helped the cause by simply not being racist, sexist, homophobic, or otherwise bigoted....

Don't pat yourself on the back idiot, you haven't done anything yet.

The issues are deadly and damned enough to demand a little (lot) more effort.

For example, internally rejecting racism is passive and silent and almost a cop out because it begets a "head down" mentality and confines you to your own meagre sphere of influence. On the other hand, being an antiracist is active, driven, and purposed. Legitimate issues demand dedication and effort-- anything less is complacent, even complicit.

It's simply not enough to think nice thoughts and wish things were better.

You know that.

Thinking nice thoughts doesn't make you an ally.

Allyship (is that a word) compels you to use your position of power, agency, and privilege to enact positive change.

Have you done any of that?

...

...

You can put your hand down, wearing a BLM bracelet doesn't count. It's a nice gesture, but what have you done? Arguing with homophobes on the internet doesn't count either.

Neither does attending community workshops on diversity and inclusion.

What have you ventured? What have you given?

By my estimation, self, you've not done nearly enough. A few little things here and there, and sure it's better than nothing, but only just barely.

In the past as a manager you've advocated pay raises for staff who'd been overlooked and undervalued. You'd also pushed your higher ups to promote more POC-- and to look a little more critically at their diversity hires. And when your employers (or the people who make decisions for them) have acted in ways which reject the values of diversity and inclusion, you've criticized them openly to their faces. And you've gone to some protests....

Over 3 decades living on this earth, and that's all you've done for the cause.

I know its easy to do nothing. And its easy to do small somethings so that you can say you haven't copped out. But nothings and small somethings are both grown in fear.

This year, do more for inclusion. Do more for diversity.

Thoughts and well wishes and occasional words of support, these things aren't enough.

Here's your list, for starters:

1. Remain brutally honest with yourself, because the subconscious biases you think you've worn down aren't entirely gone. Maybe they never will be, but it's important to keep grinding away at them.

2. Challenge yourself to spend far less time in your comfort zone. That's where complacency will bind you if you're not careful. That's where fear thrives too, and fear is deadly to social progress.

3. Volunteer. Get involved with local diversity events and equity programming through the libraries and other public facilities.

4. Stay vocal but get strategic about it. Posting facebook rants and instagram stories is a waste of your time, and its not going to influence any positive change. But words do have power and you're not terrible at using them. Attend town hall meetings and advocate for local policy that will value diversity and foster growth towards equity. Write bravely and share where you can. Not only in your fiction and your real stories, but also: send some letters to the people who actually have decision making powers. Your employers and your government alike.

5. Do more to educate your kids. You've talked to the oldest about social justice issues, but chatting isn't enough. Show him more. You're raising a mixed kid in a confused, unfair world. Get on his level. Get him involved in community service. He's a wonderfully kind kid and the babies show the glimmering promise of his same gentle soul. Teach your kids how to nurture their kindness and reject their fears.

6. Every time you think you've done some wonderful shit, step back and admit its not enough. Not to say the little things don't count, because they do. Every little bit helps make the world a little safer and fairer.

But pride is a waste if it stumbles up progress. Always be ready, able, and willing to begin all over again. Because up until now you've done nothing.

Hopefully you take some of this to heart. Because progress is going to slow and people like you (people in places of privilege and comfort) need to do more to speed positive change.

Sincerely,

myself