I Will Never Know What It’s Like to Be a Black Man but I Will Care as If I Did

I will never know what it’s like to be a black man. An obvious statement but something I never fully came to the realization of until the national outcry at the death of George Floyd at the hands of police. 

When the protesting began, I couldn’t understand why looters had taken to the streets, putting my family, loved ones, our communities, and city in danger. I was more outraged at the impact their actions were having on my immediate world than the impact this broken system we call America had on George Floyd and many other black men that preceded him. Or how long it’s taking for so-called justice to be served to those at fault. How could I be so heartless?

How could we be so heartless, America?

“The emotions we experience don’t reflect external reality; they reflect our internal reality. We don’t see the world as it is, we see the world as we are.”

— Mark Batterson

Black men in this country are reminded every single day of who they are by a system that was put in place to govern this nation while oppressing those who look like them. They face battles every single day we know nothing about. And we don’t care to know about it.

I didn’t fully, until today.

Some might look at this quote as insulting because the world as we see it today is actually how it really is — oppressive to black and brown people. That’s how it was created to be. But I would argue that the way we see the world has everything to do with how we see ourselves and who we think we are.

It’s evident in the varying responses to a crime that should be black-and-white — and very much is black-and-white based on how this country has been allowed to shape the perception of each. But people see things based on their reality. That’s never been more true as seen in the handling of this incident and every other incident where a black man was killed at the hands of a police officer. 

My reality is this: I was never taught to see color since so many exist within myself and my family. I have to wonder though if that’s not both my luxury and downfall. Since I too have never had to worry about what perception people have of me if I walk out of my house with a hood on. I’ve never been talked to like I was less than a human being because of the color of my skin.

Of the few times I have been pulled over, there happened to be a black man in the passenger seat twice. And both times the police officer who pulled me over asked for their license even though I was the one driving. In those instances and others, I was never afraid that I wouldn’t make it out of an encounter with the police alive. Even though I too am black, the workplace harassment I’ve experienced as a mixed-race woman pales in comparison to what black men have to endure every single day of their lives.

And not just from outsiders. Yes, prejudice exists outside of the black community. But how would you feel if you were constantly reminded of how much darker you are than the rest of your family? Or literally feel like every day of your life, someone is out to get you just because of how you look?

How would you feel if you were constantly demoralized, demonized and criminalized for something you have no control over but has been deemed all of those things and more by a society and system that is supposed to protect you, not put you directly in harm’s way, or unduly make you out to be the harm’s way? 

“Even though I too am black, the workplace harassment I’ve experienced as a mixed-race woman pales in comparison to what black men have to endure every single day of their lives.”

I think at some point you would ultimately start to question who you are. And who you are shapes your reality. We’ve never allowed black men to truly be because to be means we would have to accept them just as they are, it means there’s nothing wrong with them, and that’s not ever a stance this world has taken.

No one has stopped to ask what it must feel like to carry such immense pressure and pain. No one has stopped to care on a greater level which the polices in place so clearly reflect. But this unrest, rioting, and looting are making us all care now. It’s making us all pay attention. Because it’s hitting us all where it hurts and giving us all just a glimpse of the pain that has been embedded in a community that’s historically been so grossly ignored by the masses.

I still don’t understand it and by no means do I condone it. I believe change is made at the systemic, policy, and governmental levels. But I am trying to move past misunderstanding to see the bigger picture because there certainly is one. I’m in no way oblivious to that. 

Still, I’m left questioning, why did it have to come to this? Why do people have to set more fires when this country has been ignoring the biggest one that’s been burning since its inception? The one it set. Well, it seems we can’t ignore it any longer. We can’t act like just because it doesn’t affect us personally that it doesn’t matter. Because it’s personal for all of us now. Whether we like it or not. But shouldn’t it have always been that way? 

“The child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth.”

— African Proverb

One day I plan to marry my boyfriend and we will have a black son and my husband will have to teach our son things about being a black man that I cannot. He will teach him history which I hope will include George Floyd.

But this weekend, he taught me first. My nephews taught me. My father taught me. My grandfather, uncles, cousins, friends, and strangers alike. They all taught me. That it shouldn’t come to having those things to make me care about what happened to George Floyd. It shouldn’t have to hit home to open my eyes. It shouldn’t have to hit this nation where it hurts to wake us up from the grim reality we’ve all been ignoring for far too long. We have to care about other people’s realities even if they’re not our own. 

As W.E.B Dubois wrote, “Our society is uniquely indifferent to the suffering of Black Americans”. And whether we still don’t care to pay attention, all of our eyes have been opened.

We surely cannot be ignorant enough to close them again.

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