an open letter

Re: your attempts to discuss race in the workplace

To: corporate (white) America

From: your black co-workers

Date: June 5, 2020 (Happy Birthday Breonna)

Dear Corporate (white) America,

We know that you are out of your depth. We see you struggling—to comprehend, to sympathize, to say and do the right things. To use the right language and the right inflection to convey the right message. Your attempts to find a mutual point of understanding so we can build rapport. We sense your longing for our acceptance, a pat on the back for a job well done at not being a racist. An absolution of your guilt and an acknowledgement that you are not like the rest of them.

I want you to know that the discomfort you feel right now, the lack of control over this particular conversation—is how we feel all the time. The unease and trepidation with which you now broach these conversations, the self-doubt and anxiety as you dial into the conference call—is how we feel all the time. The frustration you feel when your point is misconstrued because the preconceived notions of who you are and what you think gets in the way of your actual words—is how we feel all the time. The fear of how you will be perceived and judged, the worry that the other voices on the line do not want to hear yours—is how we feel all the time.

But your powerlessness ends there. When the call is over and you disconnect your camera, the cozy shroud of your white privilege envelops you once more. You return to your life, protected by your wealth, your power and your institutions. Your baseline is safety and security. And so your heart rate regulates, your mind clears and your emotions stabilize.

That discomfort, lack of control, unease, trepidation, self-doubt, anxiety, frustration, fear and worry, never, ever leaves us. Our baseline is fight or flight. Our blood pressure is constantly raised, our minds are foggy and our emotions are volatile. But you would never know. We have carefully encrypted our true feelings because we know your white fragility cannot handle them. That you have no frame of reference and so understanding is beyond your grasp. Until now.

So what can you do in the fight against systemic, racial inequality? You can remember these feelings. And the next time you encounter a person of color: you can extend a hand when they are struggling, encourage them to find their voice, find commonalities between you and build rapport, accept them and acknowledge their struggles, and most of all not generalize about who they are because of a previous interaction with someone who looks like them.

You can treat them as we have treated you. As colleagues, as allies, as fellow humans.