My personal reflections on racism reveal a surprising and unpleasant truth

I stopped posting my regular content on social media last week and took time to learn more about racism. I don’t think I’m racist, I believe everyone should be treated equally, but I’ve come to see that I’m not yet an anti-racist. In my meditations this week, I found complacency that definitely needs more attention.

My inner exploration began shortly after George Floyd was killed. I sat with the shock of someone being murdered in broad daylight by a police officer. At first, I found disgust and grief but as I moved deeper within myself, I found a part of me that wasn’t surprised. How can it be true that the murder of an innocent man isn’t surprising?

It’s not surprising because ‘white-men-killing-black-men’ keeps happening. Until this week, I didn’t understand that there is something I can do about it. The phrase, “White people do something”, reached me. I thought of my ancestors who were persecuted in their villages in Eastern Europe just because they were Jewish. I’ve wondered why their Christian neighbours didn’t help more. How can people stand by while others are being abused, mistreated and even killed?

And yet, here I sit, in the safety of my white privilege, and I haven’t been doing anything. I know there’s a real need for donations, petition signatures and lobbying efforts and I’ll do my part but I’m most drawn to taking off my blinders. I’m beginning to see that there are people of colour, immigrants, and natives in my peripheral vision, that I haven’t seen from my forward stance. I’m broadening my lens and making the painful choice to see what I’ve been unconsciously ignoring. Making the time and the willingness to listen to what’s actually going on for these people in our communities is one way that we can help support true change.