On racism, listening, and learning
Can I tell you a story?
About two months ago, I posted on an Instagram story a little snippet of the children’s book I’m writing on diet culture and weight stigma. When I posted it, I wasn’t paying attention to the picture of my laptop that I snapped, but the picture that I did snap happened to be a part of the book where I explained that diet culture and sizeism is a form of discrimination. I compared it to racism because racism is a form of discrimination, too. I thought this comparison would help young kids understand the concept better. Both are forms of discrimination, I thought. They’re both “isms” that need to be dismantled.
And then a really brave human, my mentor’s daughter, sent me a really thoughtful private message. It wasn’t rude or attacking. It was bold and honest. She mentioned what black people have historically and presently face— lynching’s, being abused as being a labor source, unjust incarcerations, denial of housing, assumed to be criminals. She stated that she didn’t think we needed to equivocate another groups trauma to make other forms of discrimination valid. And I agreed with her.
I thanked her for her message and vulnerability. I responded by sharing that my saying that diet-culture is like racism was not to say that one group has endured more or less prejudice but that both are forms of cultural discrimination. I thanked her for her feedback. I wasn’t going to change it. But something in me felt unsettled, and I continued to mull over what she had said.
I called my best friend. I needed to externally process. I didn’t really think I needed to take the comparison out of the book. I knew my intention; I knew I didn’t mean harm by it. As I was talking it out and as she was talking with me, I began to see how that comparison— how readers would interpret that comparison— would be incredibly harmful and not how I intended it. She helped me see that I would have never made such a comparison if I were black. We talked for a while about this. And I realized— oh my god— THIS is privilege. That I can have this conversation, and that I would ever make a comparison like that in the first place.
I thought I was “woke” but what I know now is that I still have so much to learn.
Weight-stigma/diet-culture is incredibly harmful. That’s why I’m writing a book about it. It’s a form of discrimination that needs to be acknowledged. People who are fat are objectified and judged; they are stereotyped. If you’re not skinny, you are deemed “unhealthy” by a culture that is sick. Diet-culture is a major factor in the development and maintenance of eating disorders. It has woven itself into the fabric of our consumerist, capitalist culture. AND, may I add, that diet-culture and the idealization of thinness is rooted in a racist ideology (which could be its own blog post).
But you know what else? It doesn’t need to be compared to a system of injustice and oppression on which the very foundation of our country was build. I don’t need to comment on this type of discrimination— one that is especially sensitive right now (and rightfully so)— to shed light on another type of discrimination. I don’t believe in comparative suffering. And yet, I realize that I would have never compared diet-culture and racism as two, harmful systems of beliefs, if I wasn’t white, if I wasn’t privileged.
Maybe you’re wondering why I’m sharing this with you. It’s for many reasons. If I would have dismissed Addy’s words to me, I would have missed out on this very powerful lesson and realization. White people— we need to listen. We need to be humble. We need to educate ourselves. We need to set aside our defensiveness and our fragility and lean into difficult conversations with curiosity, compassion, and humility.
I also share this with you because until about a year ago, I didn’t realize that racism was more than discrimination and oppression. Why? Because I grew up in a rich, predominately white and very sheltered suburb. The multicultural counseling class I took last summer helped me better understand my white privilege and it taught me about systemic racism. This conversation wasn’t entirely new to me. I was a white teacher in a predominately black school for 3 years. I thought I understood my whiteness, though I know now that I absolutely did not, at least not to the extent that I should have. But even as someone who wasn’t totally blind to the issue of racism in our country, I STILL made a really blind mistake by making the comparison between racism and sizeism.
I share this with you because I want you to know that the way forward is by adopting a position of lifelong unlearning and relearning. I tend to pride myself on my intellect. I’m pretty smart. And guess what? There is so much that I don’t know and don’t understand about racism in our country. But I am choosing to lay down my white pride. I am choosing to actively read about the history that was purposefully not taught to me in my predominately white, public school. White people, we can’t be passive or neutral anymore. Silence is no longer an option.
This past month has been hard. I am sensitive and empathetic, so lately my whole body has been hurting in response to what is going on in our world right now. I’m angry, sad, anxious, baffled, outraged, hopeful and totally disturbed. I’m having trouble sleeping at night, and I keep thinking about what my role is in this whole thing. I’m reading and learning alongside my friends, and yet, I continue to see posts on social media saying things like “all lives matter” and “cops aren’t all bad”.
Which— let me address that one right now. You’re right, all cops aren’t bad. But the POLICING SYSTEM that cops have been trained and conditioned in is flawed and has racist roots. The policing system was literally built to capture runaway slaves and protect the interests of slave owners. Please watch the 13th Amendment on Netflix to learn more about this. I know awesome cops— my brother-in-law is one of them. But the issue at hand isn’t about good cops and bad cops, it’s about a SYSTEM that needs reform and defunding. But defunding the police sounds so radical and crazy?! Sure. But if you investigate what is actually MEANS (before getting defense and rude), it’s about allocating more resources and funds towards social services, such as housing, youth services, mental health services, and EDUCATION. Listen, as a former teacher, this issue fires me up. Police departments are thrown millions of dollars every year while teachers are underpaid and spending their OWN MONEY to buy books for their classroom libraries. And don’t even get me started about school lunches. You want social change? Start funding our schools and mental health professionals.
I really didn’t intend to make that digression during this post, but it’s a testament to how my brain is functioning these days.
White people, we have work to do. I hope we can move forward with open and humble hearts. I hope we can critically think about things like racism and systemic and systematic oppression. I hope we can ask ourselves hard questions and engage in difficult conversations. I hope we can stop making this a left-wing vs right-wing issue and see it for what it truly is— a human rights issue. I hope that my being honest and open about the mistake that I made can give you the courage to make mistakes and learn from them too. In case it wasn’t clear already— I took the comparison out of my book.
Speaking of books. Here are some books you might consider reading to begin your own journey of unlearning and relearning.
· https://www.nytimes.com/2019/05/29/books/review/antiracist-reading-list-ibram-x-kendi.html
· https://www.today.com/tmrw/9-groundbreaking-books-racism-america-read-right-now-t182928