fear is a liar.
One thing you gotta give up on when you give a damn is fear.
I was raised without prejudice. But being from Mississippi, my environment was most definitely tainted by it. And because the sum of our humanity does not derive from nature or nurture alone, it was unavoidable that I would find myself afraid of dark skin. Afraid Black girls in junior high would beat me up. Afraid to be alone with a group of Black boys in high school. Afraid to date a Black man in college.
It didn’t take long for that fear to fade after I moved to Atlanta. I can’t really say what shifted. I sort of just realized that it was asinine to be afraid of looking a Black man in the eye on the street in Little Five Points.
And I realized that I had been exactly what I never thought I was: racist.
I relate this because fear is a liar. It will never serve you, never help you. Unless you’re running from a bear. But while those asinine fears faded, another fear popped up, and it’s that fear that I have been battling this past year: talking about race and racism.
In the midst of the fight with my fear, I was given a golden opportunity not only to continue my growth but to play a small part in creating something truly meaningful. But to take this project (I’ll call it Operation C) on, I’ve had to leap way out of my comfort zone in order to really understand the work that must be done. I had to go ahead and let go of that fear. All the way. Going, going, gone. Because I had to talk to folks about… you guessed it… racism.
“Insecurity is always a thief. Geography is never an accident.”
John Onwuchekwa, Portrait Coffee
As I continue to learn from and be an ally to my Black peers, there’s one particular Creative Mornings talk that stays in my mind. John Onwuchekwa makes a brilliant connection illustrating what racism looks and feels like. It’s not emotional, not earth shattering. But it struck me so directly:
In order to do my job well, and do my client and her vision justice, I’ve had to recognize that I will never truly understand what racism – or most any discrimination, really – feels like, nor exactly what it looks like. That is not my experience. My experience is not what’s important.
We’re at a point where we must all let go of fear, be honest with ourselves, listen and respect other voices, and do what is right. This project – Operation C – is what is right.
I can’t really give any details right now. (I know, I know. Why say it if you can’t talk about it?!) Just trust me when I say that I am jumping out of my skin with excitement and humility and reverence for Operation C. I’ll share it as soon as I can. Promise.