Interrupting Racism
By Beth Broadway
A while ago, I was traveling on business in Los Angeles . I was in a nice rental car, in a business suit. I stopped for gas at a mini-mart. Three young teens of Latino heritage were in the mini-mart, picking out a snack. I stood behind them to pay for my gas while they paid for their sodas and chips. When we left the store, they moved to the side of the building to sit on a low fence to eat their food. As I got into my car, a police cruiser pulled up and pushed the young men up against the wall, having them stand spread-eagle, while they were patted down. I decided to "witness," as a white person, and swung my car around the side of the building in full view of the police and the teens. Somehow, I thought my presence there as a white woman would make a difference. One policeman came to my open window and asked me what I wanted. As calmly as I could, I said I simply wanted to make sure things went okay for these teens. He looked at me with surprise and some anger. He told me to move along. I thanked him, and stayed put. He walked back to the other officer and said something. They got back in their cruiser and drove away, and the kids went back to their chips. I drove away, shaking with terror and rage.
I have done this on several occasions since then. When I have seen African American youth pulled over by police in a ""white" section of town, I have pulled over too, just to witness. This happened most recently in a suburb of Chicago , with my mother. She was terrified that we were interfering with the duties of an officer. I explained to her that we were living in a time when young men of color were at great risk in even routine traffic violations, and that as white people, our very presence could make the difference between life and death. Besides, I told this once-upon-a-time civil rights activist, she had taught me that sometimes we have to do the right thing, even if it is scary. I hope this is not taken as an indictment against police officers in general, or any one of them in particular. But the imbalance of power in these situations is so great, and the possibility for these situations to escalate to violence is also great, given the racism in the country, so it makes sense to insert a calm presence into these situations. Believe me, I don't seek out these situations, and I do it with a great deal of fear, because I know the law enforcement system has power over me, too. But maybe if someone like me had pulled over when Jonny Gammage was on the ground, and had called out a cheery, "Everything okay, officer?" maybe he wouldn't have died.
Here are some additional thoughts I have about interrupting racism in our everyday lives:
One of the ways that we can serve as allies is to interrupt racism when we see, hear, or feel it operating. Being an ally means deciding to speak out, step out, or stand in the way of a racist attack. Often, though, we don't interrupt racism because we've been taught to "be a good girl/boy," or we've been taught "don't rock the boat." Or we've been taught not to hurt anyone's feelings. So when someone makes a racist remark, for example, we hear the recordings of those early teachings and we don't interrupt the remark because it will make us stand out and might make the speaker "feel bad." We also stop ourselves from doing the right thing because we are whirling around in our heads trying to find the most polite or elegant to interrupt the remark.
However, waiting for the most elegant and most graceful and most simple interruption to reveal itself to us is not necessary. One of my friends decided that the next time she was home for the holidays and her uncles and brothers started in with the racist jokes she would interrupt them. Sure enough, they got rolling after the meal was started, and she walked into the kitchen to try to think clearly about what to do. No neat answer came to her, so she simply flung herself through the kitchen door and rolled in the center of the cluster of men like a bowling ball. They all stopped short, and she said, "I guess I just didn't want to hear that kind of talk anymore, and I didn't know how else to stop you." They were stunned, and laughed at her, then with her. But the jokes stopped. The message here is for us to go ahead, and stumble into it, make mistakes, be a bit too overbearing, whatever it takes. It gets easier with practice.
Of course, you want to interrupt the racist remark or action as elegantly as you can, but don't get hung up on it. You would push someone brusquely out of the path of an oncoming train to prevent injury and worry about the residual bruise later. The same is true of racism. Racism hurts, and sometimes we have to confront it head on.
When you've interrupted someone, the tendency is for that person to turn their anger, sarcasm, or oppression on you. It's important to know that will happen. Expect it. Don't abandon the person. Think of it as if they were handing you their racism, asking for a hand with it. Stay close to them, if not physically close, then emotionally close. Show delight on your face, give them a chance to sort out what happened without you making a big judgement of them. This way, they'll get a chance to rethink their own racist conditioning, and begin to make some other decisions about how to deal with it.
Interrupting racism, even when no people of color are present, makes a safe space for everyone. Interrupting racism when people of color are present can sometimes give the person of color the emotional space to get angry, and to have other feelings, as well. Expect this. Continue to stay close. Listen carefully, ask them to explain why it hurt. Everyone will learn something.
Here's a formula to use when you are interrupting racist remarks:
• Point out that the remark really is racist
• Explain what form the racism takes
• Provide correct information
• Stay close & humanize the situation
For example:
You and Terry are waiting for a bus and a teen of African American heritage is listening to rap music, played loudly on a boom box. Terry turns to you, and under her breath says, Terry remarks: "Oh, I can't stand it when colored people play really loud music."
You interrupt: "Oh, Terry, you're letting your racism show! (1) No race of people has the corner on the market of loud or soft music. (2) And the term colored is no longer acceptable. The correct term is African American (3). Do you remember playing loud music as a teen? (4)
You would most likely do this out of earshot of the teen, and Terry would have more to say about it. You could get her talking about her own teen years and how she was criticized.
It's important to keep experimenting with interrupting racism. Our cultural norms tell us not to do it, but it truly gets easier and easier. Find people who will listen to your successes and failures as you attempt this. And take time to thank yourself for making the world just a little better.
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