"Something New" - Olivia

​Resting on my small but cozy bed, enjoying the warmth of my fluffy comforter and soft plush pillow, my thoughts drift to the events that transpired at tonight's town hall meeting. Tonight was supposed to be revolutionary - a time when the Aletheia College community had the opportunity to come together to discuss the issue of racism and ways we could combat it on our campus and beyond.  The objective for tonight was for the two host organizations of the meeting, Unity in Movement and the Student Government Association, to create a safe space for the campus community. Our objective, however, was negated by John's bigotry.  As people vocalized their opinions, John interrupted them, belittling anyone who didn't share his point of view. It got to the point where people either shut down and stopped talking or became irate and made threats. Dr. Wilkerson feared that there was going to be a brawl and ended the meeting. When the meeting ended, some people had to be escorted out by campus police because the tension created at the meeting was at an all time high. As we were leaving, John facetiously stated, "People can be so sensitive. They need to learn how to lighten up."
​

My thoughts are interrupted by a soft knock on my door. When I open it, I see my tall and handsome boyfriend. Standing at 6'4", Sean resembles an Armenian god. His dark brown coiffed hair matches his dark yet sensual brown eyes. His chiseled jaw, broad shoulders, and muscular frame speaks of strength but his authority and power are eluded by his demeanor. When I look at him in my doorway, conflicting emotion arise. On one hand, I am happy to see him because he has a way of making me feel better especially during times when I feel somber. On the other hand, I am upset with him, disappointed at his latent activism.

"What are you doing here?" I ask.

"You ran off after the meeting and I wanted to make sure that you are alright," he responded.

"To be honest, I'm not fine," I say rudely. "The meeting was a disaster thanks to your friend John."

"John is NOT my friend."

"Oh? Well, you sure took his side tonight."

"How did I take his side? I didn't agree with him. I thought his comments were bellicose and inappropriate."

"You didn't make your thoughts known at the meeting."

"Can I at least come inside your room so we can discuss this?"

I move out of the doorway so he could enter my dorm room. When he steps inside my room, I go back to the door to lock it.  As I lock the door, Sean pulls me into him and hugs me. The sensual blend of patchouli and wood fill my nostrils and I relax in his embrace. The familiarity of his scent leaves me vulnerable and I begin to weep. He hugs me tighter and I cry harder, unable to control myself. After 5 minutes of nonstop crying, I finally stop and lie on my bed. He follows me to the bed and puts his arm around me. 

Sean looks at me as if to ask the root of my anger. From the passion in my heart, my mouth opens and I answer him, "The injustices in America against people of color is heartbreaking. I'm sick and tired of seeing unarmed black men murdered by officers of the law. I'm sick and tired of seeing whites on social media refer to black people as monkeys, niggers, and thugs. I'm sick and tired of whites belittling our culture but appropriate it. I'm sick and tired of whites telling us that everything we do as a people is wrong. If we sit, we're wrong. If we stand, we're wrong. If we walk, we're wrong. If we march; we're wrong. If we take a knee; we're wrong. But when someone does something wrong to us, they are silent. I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired! I don't even know why John wanted the SGA to cosponsor the town hall meeting with Unity in Movement. He is clearly obstinate and shows no sign of opening his mind to understand others points of view. It just saddens and angers me that whites like John will never empathize with blacks and understand our plight."

Sean hugs me a little tighter as he listens to me vomit my emotions into words. Then he asks me something that I have never been asked by a person who is not of color, "Well what can I do, as a white person, to help alleviate the systematic racism?"

I spring up from the bed and look at him in his big brown eyes. I see the sincerity in his question. And because of his genuineness, I decide to answer as truthfully as possible so that he can be one less person who is flummoxed on what to do about the visible systematic racism in America.

"You can use your white privilege to address institutional racism."

John looks at me perplexed. I don't think that up until now, anyone has truly defined what white privilege is to him. "White privilege means that you have a societal advantage because you are a part of the dominant group of power who is more inclined to be respected and accepted regardless of wealth, gender, or other factors," I say to him. His look then goes from perplexity to amazement. I don't think he even realized that he had white privilege because it was always afforded to him.

"Wow, I didn't even look at it like that. Well, how can I use my white privilege to address racism?" he asked eagerly.

"Say something to your white counterparts if you see a person of color being mistreated or discriminated against with no due reasoning. Tell them about their errors and try to educate them about inclusion and equality. I know that the majority of white people aren't racist; it just seems that way because those who are, vocalize their hate while those who aren't, remain silent. When you are silent, non-whites view you as insensitive and apathetic toward our struggle. Your silence ultimately condones the words and behaviors of racists whites," I respond passionately.

"Thanks for opening my eyes, Liv. I had no idea how blacks felt. I thought that the race war was between racist whites and those who they discriminate; I didn't know that I have a place in it.  I didn't know that I, as a white man, have a voice in the matter. Even though I'm not directly affected by it, now I know that I can voice my opinion as well."

He kisses me on my forehead then we link hands as we lie on my bed and stare at the acoustic ceiling. As I look at the ceiling, I feel a glimmer of hope. Even though racism is a horrific monster that promotes hate, division, and fear into the human race, discussions like the one I just had with Sean will be a catalysis in demolishing racism to its very core. My hope is that whites and non-whites log off of social media, have live discussions, and take the corresponding action to fight together in the race war. I close my eyes, rest my head on Sean's chest, and think of days when all races will unite to defeat the odious foe called racism.