One Response to Racism

Illustration by Annie Galvin

Last summer while traveling abroad, I had the misfortune of attending a dinner party with my 9-year-old daughter. It was hosted by my childhood friend and the guests she invited were international and convivial, with the exception of a blustering boor, a self-proclaimed 'good ole' boy' from the South. He was loud and not particularly interested in what others had to say. So, we kept our distance. The only detail I caught was that his last name was Ross. He made a joke that he was once engaged to Diana Ross and was eager to share the wording on his fictional engagement announcement. Heads reluctantly turned his way in polite tolerance. He then shared the punchline he must have repeated hundreds of times in other swank dining rooms, 

"The announcement read: 'Roses are red. Violets are blue-ish. She may be Black but at least she's not Jewish." My Samoan Jewish daughter turned to me and said, "What did he say about us? Does he not like brown people?" And I replied loudly in his direction, "He thinks it's funny to tell racist, anti-Semitic jokes. Just ignore him."

My remarks didn't register as the old boor was hard of hearing (literally tone-deaf) or maybe he didn't care. My hosts grimaced apologetically. Other guests gave him a wide berth. I spent the next few nights tossing and turning re-enacting the scene with an icily perfect, ball-crushing retort. After all, I'm a damn newsletter writer, maker of puns, cutter of the quick. But, when the moment came to use my words I was speechless. Internal analysis told me that I'd only make a scene, ruin the party, and he was an ignorant racist who would never change, so why bother? When I told my husband, who has also endured his share of slurs, he said,

"The first time it happens you might not know what to say. But the next time it happens, you'll be ready. If you are still at a loss for words try asking, 'What do you mean by that?'"

This simple phrase was an epiphany: WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT?, a straightforward question unfettered by judgment, accusation, or assumption. A crystal clear query that forces the offender to explain their actions and, best-case scenario, might teach themselves something profound. Or recoil in humiliation. Or both. The culprit gets to feel the sting of discomfort and shame of their actions. Not the victim. Granted, this phrase would not have saved George Floyd, Ahmaud Arbery, David McAtee, Nina Pop, Breonna Taylor who would have been 27 today, and countless other victims of lethal violence and brutality but it's a start to call out racism in our everyday lives.

When I shared this story with Amy Parker, my partner in The What, she said she wished she could have asked this question back when she was a teenager working at her grandfather's frame store in North Carolina. She would take lunch breaks with her best buds at work Omar and George, two hunky African American men. One afternoon while sharing a meal at Bojangles, a white woman approached their jovial group and loudly exclaimed,

“Excuse me young lady, but I wanted to make sure you are okay in the company of these ... (long pause) … two gentlemen." Amy looked around to make sure she was speaking to her. “I’m sorry,” Amy said sweetly, her Southern manners kicking in despite her shame and fury, “You don’t need to worry. Everything is just fine.” Her friends stayed silent as the woman finished, "Well, I’ve alerted the manager and we are close by if you need anything."

After the woman left they all nervously laughed and shrugged it off. It's a scene she's returned to over the years and wishes she had said something to the woman and to her friends.

“What do you mean by that?” is not a perfect phase. I am no expert in counter racism. But, it's a simple question to fall back on, whether you're a victim or a witness if you’re having trouble finding the words. It's a tiny pearl to knit into the grand solution we must work on to vaccinate each other from racist beliefs and brutality. I’ve also shared two stories here that involve Southerners not because I conflate the South with racism. I do not. But, because these are specific examples of two personal stories that haunt us both. They just so happen to involve people from the South. Amy is from North Carolina and couldn’t be more proud to be a Southerner. We could search our memories for racist incidents that involved other people but these were the two that impacted us the most.

Amy and I stand in solidarity with the Black Lives Matter movement and we will continue to use our platform to celebrate and support friends in the Black community and people of color. We encourage you to do the same and have included links below to get involved and get informed. Most importantly when you see something, say something. And, if you're not exactly sure of what to say, try starting with a question.

Gina Pell
Content Chief