Black Lives Matter

As a proud South Asian Muslim growing up in America, I was always taught that my silence was survival. I was taught that it was more important to coast through without causing a scene in order to not call attention to myself and my faith. If I spoke up on issues that people could disagree with, they will start to look at me and question why I was there. I think that is something you find across the board in our community. Keep your head down and do what you should do. Growing up in Prince George’s County, MD I never truly understood the racial tension that we faced in the world. I was an individual who believed that we were beyond the years of racism and hate. I grew up and largely credit the woman that I am today because of the Black community. I am a product of their excellence from schooling, mentorship, community engagement, and more. My ignorance to racial tension is something I wish was the truth of our nation. A society that stood together and stood for each other. A community where people could coexist and thrive. A space where we grew up to learn about Black innovators and change-makers.

I remember in high school, being in a drama club and proclaiming myself as a theater kid. I thought that was the group I was going to be surrounded with in college. But I realized that my experience in drama club was unique from most. I was quickly faced with comments like “I’ve never heard of that play” “The Wiz? You mean the Wizard of Oz” and “Oh… so like low-budget plays?”. It was in those conversations that I realized the significance of what our drama teacher did for our school. She made sure we were exposed to plays that represented our school’s community and showed us all of the different possibilities that students could achieve. It was a space that cultivated and appreciated Black art and the Black experience. I never grasped the significance of going to school in Prince George’s County until I went to college. I used to proclaim that it was my privilege to grow up in this environment – never having to worry about unfollowing people or seeing hateful rhetoric on my social media and in my classrooms. However, this is a right that should not be the privilege to the few lucky enough to have these lived experiences. I’m grateful to my community for that.

I sit here and I try to process everything that has been happening this year, but more specifically this past week. It is unsettling. Not because there is a sudden issue of health care discrimination, police brutality, and racism in our country. No, it’s unsettling because this is not an unfamiliar fight. It’s not anything new – in fact, it feels way too familiar and that’s the problem. This is the same fight that has been going on for generations at no end. These are the ugly truths of our society that can no longer be hidden. We are past the point of awareness. We live in a period of time where knowledge is at our disposal. If you do not know or understand something, I implore you to use Google… it’s free. It is not up to our Black peers to educate us on the injustices that plague our communities. It’s ours. It is our job to research. It is our job to think critically. It is our job to have those difficult conversations calling out the individuals in our lives when we are faced with ignorance. There is no excuse anymore. It is our responsibility to challenge ideas, have uncomfortable dialogues, and ultimately reevaluate the position that individuals hold in your life. You cannot simply “agree to disagree” on basic human rights with your friends. Protect your peace, but remember that it cannot be the responsibility of our Black peers to deal with dismantling anti-Black rhetoric alone especially when a lot of these situations happen when they aren’t in the room.

I have sat in too many classrooms where individuals thought that they were able to say or do whatever because there was not a Black person in the class. And as I sat there hearing a white person say the n-word for the first time (an English professor), I looked around shocked that he didn’t hesitate and this was a thing that still happened. But I was even more shocked that I seemed to be the only person in the entire class who visibly taken aback, angry, and shocked.

I have sat in too many professional spaces where I have witnessed self-proclaimed allies shy away from speaking out on the microaggressions and offensive dialogue that their peers express. I have been a part of different student organizations that have been outraged at the lack of diversity and inclusion at our institution yet, displayed inherent bias towards Black organizations. I was very appreciative to have been a student leader in these organizations in order to challenge those ideals but I knew that was something that would only take place while I was there.

I have sat in too many social settings, where people believe their proximity to Black culture gives them the right to co-opt the Black struggle or say the n-word. Many justifying their behavior with “oh well I grew up in ___” or “well I would never say this in front of a Black person because I know they don’t like that.” So… you acknowledge the issue and are choosing to continue? Noted.

See now, I sit here and witness those same individuals posting their black squares and heartbroken emojis and going about their day. Performative activism is baseless, inauthentic, and makes it more difficult to spread information. Don’t get me wrong, please speak up. Use your platform and privilege to effect the change we so desperately need in this world. But make sure, you are backing these things with actual tangible actions that can forward the progress in effecting change. You can’t post a picture on social media or tweet #BlackLivesMatter and do nothing else. I recognize that people cannot donate because they are in financial hardships. I also, recognize that protesting may be detrimental and unsafe for individuals who are in high-risk of getting sick or even could trigger mental health issues like anxiety. But these are not the only two ways you can make change. There are plenty of ways to that you can show up for the movement. Find your space that is authentic to you and be an active member in creating change.

Now I may be shaking the table here. BUT… We need to stop this idea of being self-proclaimed allies. Being an ally is not an identity or a state of being. “Too often, those with one or more privileges become allies – or at least, say they are – as a way of gaining social capital in a society that tends to laud pointless displays of ostensible solidarity that are ultimately devoid of meaning.” You should not be given a cookie because you are doing what we should all be doing. Being an ally means pulling up and doing the work. It’s not merely enough to know or love someone who is Black. If that love is real, you have to be willing to get called out and be willing to have exhaustive conversations with your family and friends. Do not allow yourself to believe that someone is “too old” to understand the issues of racism.

I don’t think one can claim or ever should claim to be an ally. Being an ally is an action. Being an ally is constantly learning and earning the trust of those you are advocating for. You have to do the work – not to get recognized, but because this actually matters. What matters isn’t the how sizable or applauded your impact is. What matters is that you stood up for your Black brothers and sisters. Silence is compliance and we cannot comply with a system that refuses to acknowledge the blood that it has on its hands. It is not just about the senseless killings about unarmed Black people. It is about the system oppression that consistently upholds white supremacy in every aspect of our society.

To all my non-Black friends, specifically my NB-POC, please understand that the Black community does not owe you their space or conversation. Don’t tell someone you understand their struggle. You will never understand the anger, the exhaustion, the fear they carry. But what you can do is validate it. Acknowledge that this is something that is happening everyday living as a Black person in America. Acknowledge that you must learn, but more importantly, you must unlearn the biases that you were taught. Acknowledge that you are a beneficiary to a system that suppresses and harms Black people every day – more than the few moments that are caught on camera.

However, acknowledgement is only the first step. It is not enough to just be not-racist. You have to be anti-racist. We cannot and should not be silent. It is grossly irresponsible for us to not recognize that the POC community stands on efforts that the Black community has tirelessly fought for. As a community, we easily consume Black culture when it is convenient for us; co-opt Black culture and claim it as our own yet we are nowhere to be found when it is time to fight for their very livelihood. We fail to act against our privileges in benefiting from Anti-Blackness and being deemed “the model minority”. I speak from my experience in saying the South Asian community is significant in perpetuating anti-blackness and tries so hard to create its livelihood by its proximity to whiteness. If we can fit in, we can make it. But there is no fitting in. You cannot pick and choose your proximity when it is convenient. We have to do the work. Now is not the time to dilute the spotlight on police brutality with the issues that we need to work on as a community. While it is imperative that we are calling out microaggressions and realizing the effects that colorism plays in our families, we need to understand that those issues are things we as a community need to work on our own. Make sure you are taking this time to uplift and center your advocacy towards Black voices.

Remember that your proximity to blackness is not a pass. Your proximity to blackness is a responsibility. So to the very community that has always shown up for me, empowered me, and called out the injustice that my identities face, thank you. I promise you that I will keep listening to you, keep learning for you, and keep uplifting your voices in any space I find myself in.