White Privilege

This past week was a lot. I have felt activated and triggered. The emotional weight of seeing what I already know to be true play out on our screen has felt unsettling—like many, securing sanctuary for my emotions outside of my beautiful family has been challenging. For some, seeing rioters storm our nation's capitol, with little to no push back, confirms what I already know to be accurate, that we are not all equal. That there are an entirely separate set of rules or lack thereof in which others live and operate. When you are White, there are no rules; only a complete overarching superiority above said rules. As I saw doors being opened for these rioters with little resistance, I am sure that had this group been majority Black, Brown, Muslim, or anything other than White, there would have been a completely different outcome. We wouldn't have even made it to the steps of the capitol. I know this to be true.

What I have seen play out over the news and even across social media has confirmed many Black people's reality. We don't feel safe. We don't feel secure within this country. We don't feel safe amongst certain social settings, the medical systems, and even our White friends and associates. These are facts.

I live in Los Angeles, California, a progressive and liberal state. However, even in living here, I still find myself navigating racially, unsafe environments. This vast misconception amongst White people that racism only exists in the backwoods of Alabama or Mississippi and that these "bad people" have limited education, lousy grammar, and don't know better is inaccurate. These "racist people" live in our neighborhoods, teach our online yoga classes and wellness retreats, send love and light, and talk about manifestation. Some of these people are within the "motherhood community," creatives, photographers, influencers... They are in our pulpits, leading worship, elected officials, doctors within our medical system, and midwives within our birthing community. These are the same people that stormed the capitol building. They are everywhere, and therefore Black folks run the risk of encountering racism EVERYWHERE and in almost every situation, even when we birth. Because racism is everywhere, Black folks often don't feel safe even with our most "woke" friends. I repeat, Dear White people, your Black friends may or may not feel emotionally safe with you. I'll take it a step further; we may not even feel safe sharing IF we don't!

Over social media, I have heard terms such as "bravery" being used to describe the folks who were a part of this insurrection. I have heard words such as "sovereignty" being used to defend their choices - and this was not necessarily from the rioters. These terms have been used by folks from the wellness and self-care community. Again, it's everywhere. I've even seen people refuse to believe and speak out, saying that the outcome would NOT have been different if the rioters would have been Black. They've spewed rhetoric that the thought of a different set of rules results from media and the internet and that it's purely political. However, what they fail to realize is that folks who look like me have known this inequality to be true somatically, within our bodies, and that this racial insidiousness has existed long before the internet, the news, and most certainly before Trump. What we know to be accurate within our bodies - the feeling of having to be aware of how we show up in the world existed long ago, when we were stolen and brought here on boats - When our bodies were enslaved, raped, beaten, and hung from trees as a spectacle. We knew that the rules were different when a twelve-year-old Black boy named Emmett Till was murdered, and those who committed the murder were let off for this heinous crime. The rules were different when Breonna Taylor was shot dead as she slept, While Ahmaud Arbery jogged, and while the cops kneeled on George Floyd's neck for 8 minutes and 47 seconds in broad daylight. I don't need the news to tell me that the rules are different, that our existence is different, and that our lives are put in a category of "other" to believe it to be so. I know this within my body, as my ancestors knew it within theirs.

With that being said, to those who actively choose to mask their racism behind catchphrases or live out their racism openly, I ask the question, Is it bravery or White privilege? Is it Sovereignty or simply White supremacy? I'm asking for a friend.

Dear White People. If hearing that most of your Black friends may or may not feel safe with you causes you to feel a certain way, change it. Become safety. Become a sanctuary for folks to find emotional shelter. Do better. Do the work. Most importantly, gather yourselves. Talk to your family members, friends, and the people close to you. I've said this before, and I'll repeat it. Gather yourselves and stop asking Black folks to do it for you! We are exhausted. We are tired.

Dear Black folks. This week has been exhausting. I have found myself doing a tiresome dance of turning off the news, only to turn it back on again. Y'all, we have to be good to ourselves. Activist Tamika Mallory said it best. "I suggest that Black folks stand back and stand by while these folks throw a tantrum in DC. America needs to face its problem. Don't go out there. This is NOT our fight." During this time, we must take care of ourselves. Love on ourselves. Let's heal, protect our energy and our joy.

Last week was heavy. These next few weeks that Trump is in office feels unsettling. Many are afraid. I understand. I wish I could wrap this post up with a beautiful bow. However, I cannot. I know we will get through this. I know this to be true. Let's keep breathing.

Stay HERE. How to stay grounded, present, and peace(Full), this election week....

It's 9:08 PM. I'm sitting on my sofa, and like many, I am feeling anxious. My anxiety has been relatively high. I know that I'm not alone. Like many, the build-up of what may or may not be regarding next week's election feels like a lot. Between navigating the crazy universe that is 2020, a racial pandemic, and dodging the Rona, it all just feels exhausting. 

I hope that Tuesday night will prove to be a victory and a clear signal that our country perhaps (just perhaps) has actively chosen to move in a different direction. I hope that Biden and Kamala win. I do. If anything that the 2016 election has shown, hope is not always guaranteed, especially when it comes to the current administration. So, where does this leave us? How do we reconcile the anxiety? The uncertainty? How do we find a home, let alone a safe space to land, when the world around us has felt so very unsafe? How do we stay present when everything within us would like to jump two places ahead to Tuesday night? Here are a few ways to stay grounded, centered, and, most importantly, peace(Ful), no matter what. 

1. Stay HERE... Stay present. Here is wherever you are. It is the present, not looking back, and for damn sure not looking ahead. I know that we all want to know what's going to happen on Tuesday night. We cannot. However, we can do our part by voting. After you've done everything that you can do to create change, stay HERE.

2. Be gentle on yourself. YOU are not crazy for feeling the massive wave of anxiety that so many are experiencing. The results of the 2016 election triggered quite a bit of PTSD. While our country has never been safe for Black and Brown folks and anyone that has felt the sting of being other(ed), the 2016 election proved to be the manifestation of our country’s insidious undertone. The stress of it all, feels heavy. Be gentle. Take space. Take care.

3. Take it one moment at a time. One breath at a time. One nap at a time. One yummy meal at a time. Again, stay HERE.

4. Nourish yourself. Eat a good meal.

5. We are stronger than we think. We, humans, are resilient folks. I spoke to a dear friend of mine the other day, reminding her of the ancestry that came before. We come from folks who have experienced so much more, with far less. Their blood flows through our veins. We will get through this.

6. Rest. You have permission to rest.

7. Ask for help—your mental health matters. I love Better Help. I also love Therapy For Black Girls as a resource.

8. Lastly, breathe. Keep breathing. 

Sending us all love,

Brandi

Schnitzel with a Side of Racism

I feel as though I've been here before. As if I've written this before. So many times. So many hashtags. Too many to name. So many incidents of proving our worth... saying that our lives and bodies are ours... that they are not for public consumption, only to be gobbled up and spit out when the bitter taste of our history is too much to swallow... that our lives matter. I feel as though I've over explained that we are worthy to just be... and live. Truthfully, these are all requests that my grandparents and great grandparents fought for. My great grandfather was murdered for this request... his body left on a railroad track for all to witness what happens when Black people simply ask to be free... 

This past week was so much. I felt a lot. I felt angry... frustrated... annoyed... disrespected... exhausted... just tired. Last week, my husband traveled to Berlin for work. As a musician/producer he has been fortunate to travel all over this great big world. He has seen and experienced many things. However, nothing could have shocked him more than the blatant dose of racism that he would experience while at a small restaurant in Berlin.

It's early Saturday evening... around 4 o'clock.  Jon and his colleagues enter Restaurant Berlinchen. Upon entering, they quickly notice that they are by far the youngest and blackest people in this establishment... which often happens in foreign European cities... no big deal. However, the rest of the dining experience would take a turn... becoming more of a negative social experience than what Jon and his friends bargained for. 

"After being seated, one of my colleagues orders the schnitzel. My other colleague orders an herbal tea & cocktail. Surprisingly, the waiter scoffs and then proceeds to educate us on how it is unacceptable to order drinks without food. My colleague communicates that he'll possibly order a soup or salad in addition to his drinks once he returns from a visit to the restroom. Since I had just enjoyed a fresh smoothie & snack at the place we were previously, I declined to order anything. The waiter then walks away... my friend then walks to the restroom. Left at the table, are myself & my other colleague. We sat for about 3-4 minutes pointlessly looking over our menus while we waited... just biding time. All of sudden, one at a time, each of our menus were aggressively snatched from our hands. 'You must leave now... go!...' said our waiter. My friend and I were caught way off guard. It happened so fast. We slowly stood up and collected our bearings to depart the restaurant. At that time, my other colleague returns from the restroom... a bit perplexed to why we were getting ready to leave. We told him that we were asked to. He seemed as shocked as we were. Before leaving, I sat back down... reached for a pen & paper in my bag. I opened my Google translate app & proceeded to write the English to German translation for: 'Black people are not welcome. Do not come here. Racist!!'  My friends and I then proceed out the door. As the door closed, I left my translated note in the doorway, in hopes that potential customers may read & inquire to why someone would leave such an ugly note."- Jon

My phone rings... "You won't believe what just happened..." Jon proceeds to tell me what he and his friends had experienced. He was shocked. He couldn't decide which transgression was worse... being told to leave the restaurant OR having a menu snatched out of his hands like child. In the waiter's eyes, these men were boys... refusing to see them as men... as equal. To add insult to injury, after the restaurant's discriminatory behavior was called out online, the owner made false accusations that Jon and his colleagues were violent and drunk... that they had committed property damage (by leaving a note in the door). Not only were they not seen as men. but were being portrayed as violent and dangerous... the typical angry black male stereotype. Painting THIS narrative was the restaurant owner's first defense. Why was this so? Why was it so easy for him to imagine three angry black men coming into a restaurant to start trouble... while ordering schnitzel?

Oh how I would love to say that this is the only time my husband or I have experienced racism first hand. However, I would be lying. Like most people of color, we have experienced both blatant racism and casual everyday micro aggressions since we can remember. I would love to lie and say that Berlin was just an isolated incident. It wasn't. It happens everyday. It happens every time someone asks my husband IF he reads music (because Black folks are just suppose to "feel" the music, right?) There's no way that this black man can talk your head off regarding the technicalities of music theory. It happens every time someone assumes that my husband is the studio tech (and not the producer). It happens every time someone states how articulate we are. It happens every time we are viewed as the "exception to blackness," when we are not. It happens every time a white person says, "I don't see color." (Side note: Please know that when you say "I don't see color," you are saying that you don't see me.  Additionally, by saying that you "don't see my color,"  you are also saying that there is something about my blackness that makes you feel uncomfortable.)  It happens every time someone accosts my family and I in the grocery store and then begins to ooh and awww over our skin... and then begins to touch our bodies or our hair (without our consent.) It happens every time someone assumes anything about our lives soley based on the color of our skin. It happens every time we are asked to validate our feelings and/or perception of racism. It happens every time we are asked to go against our better judgment to call out racism as we see it... instead, being expected to internalize it and assume that perhaps we are seeing it wrong. It happens every time we are vilified for being too strong... too loud... too bold... too human. It happens every time our children can't be children.  It happens every time we are perceived as a threat... while ordering schnitzel. I would like to lie and say that Berlin was just Berlin. But it wasn't. These are everyday blatant and covert cases of racism that we experience,,, every. single. day. 

"Oh wow you are so articulate and intelligent"-A

"I feel like I can relate to you...You're not like the OTHERS."-P

"Several times and even today people assume after talking with me over the phone that I'm not black so when they meet me I'm either greeted with, 'Oh!' OR 'You sound so professional.' - A

"Your children are so beautiful,  do they have the same dad?" -R

"Wow! I'm surprised at how well you speak."-P

"From the perspective of someone who is mixed, I can say I've been the recipient of racial micro aggressions on both sides. On one end, I either spoke like I was white or thought I was better than other people because I had 'good hair'.  On the other end I surprised people with my eloquence, and my curly hair lured white hands to inspect my strands, often without my permission."-J

"I was like 17 when I went on an audition and saw another audition going on in the studio across from mine. I saw a lot of my peers auditioning, so when I called my manager to find out why I wasn't on that audition, after beating around the bush for a minute or two my manager told me, 'They wanted beautiful girls and you're not the beautiful girl.' When I pressed her as to what beautiful was, she said 'mixed' looking. I said, 'But the women that were there are the same tribe of folks.' Her reply, 'but you're not exotic.'  I can still recall the pain in my chest, the heat in my face radiating from the tears I fought back from falling and the tremendous sadness I felt."- S

"You're pretty... for a black girl."-P

"We REALLY wanted to hire you, but it was important to us to have an older (not more experienced) midwife. If you maybe charged a little less we would have been sold! You understand right girlfriend?" -R

"I came to Berlin for a salsa congress with a group of instructors in 2001. We left a Burger King late one night, and ran into steel-toe boot-wearing skinhead, sneering "Niggers" at us. Out of the group of about 10, only two of us were actually black."-I

"We have a group of black moms that go to the park every week and we get the most jaw dropping stares when all these black women walk in with their children. White women can't stop starring. I think they just never imaged they would see 'US' there."- B

" One time i went to a school administrator to complain after students were making fun of "ebonics" on the school radio. The person I was looking for was out of the office so the faculty member I spoke to said , 'well if I see him I'll tell him you're 'afa' him' -J

"I was making an announcements on my flight one day and a Caucasian couple waved me over and said that they were so impressed.. They stated that they never heard a person like me speak so eloquently before."- A

"Crossing one of Berlin's busiest intersections with my daughters one evening, a car full of young white males passed. One stuck his hand out of the window and yelled, 'Heil Hitler!' How he spotted us in a crowd through the window of a moving car, I'll never know."- I

"I was pulled out of my car by a police officer when I was 16.... Suspected of stealing the vehicle because my friends and I didn't look like we 'belonged' in the area. I was 5 miles from home."-P

"As a black woman in my 30s, I've often had people ask me if I'm single and when I say yes, they immediately follow by asking if I have kids and when I say no they're shocked. I've asked white friends of a similar age if they're asked if they have kids and they say no." -B

"In school one of my teachers continued to call me tiffany always forgetting that i was not the same person as the only other black girl in the class."- J

"A man in the grocery store stop us to admire Max. Man: 'Your son is so cute. What's his name?' Me: 'Thanks. His name is Maxwell.'  Man: 'Oh, Maxwell. You know, there's a dog store right down the street called Maxwell.' -A

"Scene: Talking to a white female coworker who wants to pull me aside and talk about a personal team matter involving herself. She wants to know why she feels potentially estranged from the team and is sharing her insights on the dynamics at play.Our team is mostly POC, so her feeling is that the only strike against her must be because she's a white woman.  Her: 'I mean, a few years ago when the whole Michael Brown and Black Lives Matter thing was going on, I made sure to give you, a black woman, space to feel all your feelings!'  Feel all my feelings? I...didn't ask for space, the team is primarily POC. And shouldn't she have meant...all the feelings everyone felt? The team's feelings? We're an activist organization."- R

"December 2014. A German relative asked my husband if our daughter wanted a "neger puppe" for Christmas. "N*gger doll" in English. His defenses ranged from 'It's not like I called your daughter a n*gger' to 'That doesn't mean in German what it means in English.'"- I

Why I March... AND why I almost Didn't

... because women's rights are important... because I want my boys to not only see, but experience strong women using their voices to fight injustice. Like many, this election-cycle has triggered many emotions for me. The outcome has triggered anger, sadness, and empowerment. I march because I am a woman who takes great pride in knowing that raising young men to respect women is not only a necessity but should be the norm. These are all the reasons why I march. However, I almost did not.  

The outpouring of women banning together to march and protest has made me so proud to be a woman... yet somehow, the feeling is bittersweet. I began to ponder the question of "why has it taken this particular election to produce this level of solidarity?" Should not the countless crimes against people of color from last year alone, have triggered a similar onslaught of concern & "being woke" that is now being demonstrated? Truthfully, many people of color have been in a rage before now. Many of us have already been afraid. James Baldwin said it best, "To be black and conscious in America is to be in a constant rage." The Women's March, although necessary, feels bittersweet because it echoes a sad societal truth that Black Lives only matter when White Lives do. And that's unfortunate.

The morning after the election, I was in my car, and I saw two white women hugging, consoling each other. I came to understand that they were discussing the outcome of the election. They had tears in their eyes. They were grieving… heartbroken. However, if I have to be honest, seeing these women grieving this openly, saddened me. It saddened me to realize that I hadn't witnessed this level of grief over the atrocities that had occurred during the killings of numerous unarmed men and women of color in past years. It would have been nice to see these same white women hugging and consoling each other following the murders of Sandra Bland or Korryn Gains. People of color have been saying that this country has work to do, and it seems that up until now, our cries have seemingly gone unheard. I’ve said it before, Trump didn’t happen over night. While the outcome of this election may have come as a shock to many,  it definitely has not for most people of color. It’s not that surprising that this country has yet to heal from its racist past. Truthfully, when white women approach me with their mouth a gasp in shock, wondering how Trump is now our President elect, my initial response: “the same way a police officer can murder a twelve year old black boy and not see jail time.”  

Dear white women… welcome to the party.. A couple of months back, my youngest son and I were coming out of the grocery store, and this white woman approached us and began telling us how much she just loved “us”… how she just loved our skin and so on and so forth. She then, went into this monologue of “oppression” and how black men have to fight the oppressor. It was really overwhelming. After a couple of minutes of her educating me on the state of my people, she bid me farewell, and I was left overloaded and exhausted. Here I was just trying to be a care free black girl, shopping for kale, and suddenly, I was bombarded by this overzealous character and her need to educate me. What’s my problem with her approach? I had a few. 

For example, the same amount of effort she was using to prove her “wokeness,” should've been put into educating people who look like her. Why preach to the choir? Hopefully, the same speech that she so passionately needed to orate in the Whole Foods parking lot, will be echoed to her family members or friends that may really need to hear it. Talking to people of color about the horridness of this election is pretty pointless and counterproductive to true change. If you're not ready OR willing to have those difficult conversations with your family members and friends who voted for Trump, please spare me your performance. If you're not willing to use your privilege OR whatever platform that you may have to engage in these difficult conversations, your privilege and platform is void of value. I’m sure that the woman who stopped me in the grocery store parking lot meant well. However, that conversation wasn't for me. 

Lastly, as crazy as it is that Donald J. Trump will be sworn in as our 45th President today, I remain hopeful that today will mark a new era of awareness of others. The veil has been pulled away for many. My hope is that this march will trigger a love for each other that has never been exhibited in years prior.  My hope is that we will begin to truly care for one another... that we will weep with those who weep and truly mourn with those who mourn, even when it doesn't affect us personally. My hope is that we will listen and protest and march with those who may not share the same skin, knowing that if it hurts one, it will eventually trickle down and hurt us all.  Marching is necessary. Great change has happened because people have marched. My hope is that this passion for change and awareness of others will not end with the Women's March, and that our anger whether newly acquired or carried as long as we can remember, will not burn out, but will ignite a passion and a tangible shift for future generations...Tis true, the outrage, anger and passion for change that many are feeling today simply echoes what people of color have felt all along. This country has much work to do. Perhaps the march is the beginning of that work... 

My Self Care IS Activism

I am grateful. I am grateful for family and friends. I am grateful for healthy relationships and the ability to stay clear from toxicity. I am grateful for my home. I think it's clear… that there is a lot to be grateful for. However, yesterday as we gathered with loved ones, I couldn't help but feel heaviness. I felt heaviness that as we ate, Native Americans are still disrespected, tossed to the side, and stolen from. I felt heaviness that just a few weeks prior, our country elected a man that has disrespected people of color, the disabled, muslims, women, and the lbgt community. I felt heaviness for the families of Chattanooga, TN who lost their babes just a couple of days ago in a horrific bus crash. With that being said, there is a lot of healing that needs to take place. There is a lot of self care that needs to take place. However, how do we implement self care and self celebration in the midst of chaos? How do we stay inspired in the midst of personal and/or public calamity?

I truly believe that self care is a form of activism. To stand up in the midst of someone’s hate, and scream, “I am enough," is not only a form of activism, but self care. Self care isn't just taking a long bath; although pausing for self is necessary. Self care is decorating a poster and marching through the streets while affirming that black lives really do matter… because they do. Self care is not buying into the hype of Black Friday… opting out of standing in long lines to buy more stuff. Your worth is not in getting more stuff.

Self care is speaking the truth… your truth… because it is necessary. After the election, I was greeted via social media by people asking me to validate my frustration on racism and the election results. I spoke even louder. This blatant election of bigotry over unification spoke volumes. It should have rang loudly to those who had been in a deep slumber regarding racism in this country. Using your voice on whatever platform that you may have is a form of self celebration. When you use your voice to speak on things that matter, you proclaim your worth. When you use your privilege to influence others to change, you celebrate the fact that your words have power and value. They are not empty. 

Lastly, sometimes staying inspired, involves simply unplugging. No television, no electronics, just the sound of your breath and the wind blowing through the trees. These moments are necessary. I have found that when I take time to “unplug from the matrix,” I am able to return, revitalized and ready to speak, protest, and engage in much needed discussions. Reminding myself that in spite of the chaos, hate, and crazy, I am worthy and important.