A Note to My White Family and Friends by Tim Ghazzawi:
As an English teacher, I know a thing or two about punctuation. Periods and commas, dashes and parentheses, semicolons and quotation marks. We use these things for different reasons, but mostly to give closure to our ideas and make our words feel more complete.
On the news, I see protest signs that read: “I can’t breathe!”
A simple phrase. A single exclamation point. It’s grammatically correct. And still the whole thing feels wrong.
I wonder if George Floyd had written what he was really feeling when, for 8 minutes and 46 seconds, a police officer kneeled on his neck and suffocated him to death, how many exclamation points he would have needed to express his pain and fear and anger and desperation. How many pencils he’d have emptied of lead and pens he’d have drained of ink. How many reams of paper and poster boards he’d have filled with lines and dots, lines and dots before there was enough punctuation to make his words feel complete.
I also wonder if all those exclamation points would have mattered.
I am not Black. But there is not a day that goes by when I am not enriched and inspired by Black excellence. Truth be told, I rely on it. And I don’t acknowledge that as much as I should.
When I put my own pen to paper and write, for example, the potent prose of Toni Morrison, the only Black author to win the Nobel Prize for Literature in my lifetime, is what I try to emulate.
When I play my favorite sport, it is Serena Williams, a Black woman, and maybe the greatest athlete of all time, whose serve I dream of hitting.
When I want to listen and learn, I steep myself in the silky oratory waters of Cornel West and Michael Eric Dyson.
And when I want to listen and vibe, I let the songs of albums like A Seat at the Table and Blond churn in my ear drums.
When I want to laugh, I revisit old sketches by Dave Chappelle and Eddie Murphy or scenes with Whoopi Goldberg and Tracee Ellis Ross.
And when I want to watch something longer, depending on my mood, I’ll screen Black Panther for the umpteenth time, or be moved to tears by a Barry Jenkins film, or be made to flinch and question and howl all in one setting by Jordan Peele. Or maybe I’ll watch something and close my eyes and simply listen to the voice of Morgan Freeman or Eartha Kitt.
When I want to remind myself of political poise, I think of no one else but Barack and Michelle Obama, and when I want to witness a good political throwdown, I savor video clips of Maxine Waters and Sheila Jackson Lee. And when I want to talk political realness, I tune into April Ryan and Angela Rye, Bakari Sellers and Van Jones.
When I reflect on my role in the field of education, I recall the advice and love I received from my Black colleagues, my mentors, fellow teachers and counselors and administrators, who helped me find strength in challenging classroom situations. I recall my students and their families, who took a chance and allowed me to try and make a difference in their lives while they made all the difference in mine. And I recall those same students devouring the works of Angie Thomas, Jason Reynolds, and Walter Dean Myers, essential truth-tellers for our nation’s young adults.
And when I simply wish to be better, I crave for Stacey Abrams’ intelligence and confidence, for Trevor Noah’s wit and charm, and for Oprah Winfrey’s heart and vitality… and, if I’m being honest, a little bit of her money, too.
The thing is, these days, I seem to talk more about a different set of names belonging to a different group of Black people. Names that roll off the tongue just as easily, despite not ever asking to be famous. Names not in professional casts or leagues, or on professional stages or ballots. But names that feel familiar all the same, like: Eric Garner, Freddie Gray, Trayvon Martin, Philando Castile, Alton Sterling, Tamir Rice, Michael Brown, Oscar Grant, Sandra Bland, and now Breonna Taylor, and Ahmaud Arbery, and George Floyd.
Names I never had to know in the way I know them now.
To my White family members and friends, if you receive the same literary, athletic, intellectual, musical, comedic, cinematic, political, and educational inspiration I receive from the famous part of the Black community, I urge you to honor those other names who have become celebrities not by choice but because of racial hatred, violence, and force. Keep them famous by repeating their names and repeating their stories and repeating them again and again and again.
You can help to stop adding to that list by being just as mad about the violence of poverty and mass incarceration and the lack of equal access to health care and education as you are about the violence of a riot.
I also challenge you to question every candidate for president and senator and mayor and police chief and local judge and school board member that you vote for this fall. Ask yourself more than just whose policies yours align with. Ask yourself whose policies and personal beliefs align most with what is right and just.
By clicking this link, you can make a split-donation of what spare money you have to the following organizations: Reclaim the Block, Movement for Black Lives, Black Visions Collective, and Violence in Boston. If money is tight, you can spend what spare time you have learning and listening. Currently Freedom is a Constant Struggle by Angela Davis sits at my bedside and all of Ava DuVernay is queued up on Netflix. I might also call you to discuss how we can improve our collective allyship. Please join in conversation with me and others by responding with your own ideas, asking your own questions, and sharing your own resources below.
Lastly, consider raising up your own protest sign, even if its punctuation cannot tell the whole truth.
Incredible. The ending is so powerful. Thanks for writing this.
Ghazzawi, thank you for those words. As an educator, it is so important for students of all races and backgrounds to be exposed to culturally relevant literature that serves as a window/mirror of real life experiences. I think it is important for teachers to share multicultural texts with students in hopes of developing socially conscious young people who are bound to make positive change when their time comes.
Tim, this is powerful and it is needed but we both know it is simply step 1. Actions speak louder than words and I have worked to commit to the following concrete actions;
-I have looked at my budget and how I can make a small, reoccurring payment to the Loveland Foundation, an organization that focuses on the healing of black women and girls. For a long time I claimed I didn’t have the money. For a long time I claimed my small contribution wouldn’t matter. But it does.
-I have been speaking with my white friends and pushing them to take action through donations to bail funds and emailing police departments (the emails are prewritten! It takes 10 seconds!)
-I have been reading and participating in a book club on Stamped by Jason Reynolds and Ibram X Kendi
-I will spend the summer critically analyzing the pieces I teach and trying to make them more representative of my student body
-I have offered students space in our strange online forum to share if they want and firmly stated that Black Lives Matter. I an fighting the safe and indirect language I’ve used in the past
This is the start and I hope to keep doing more. I struggle to share this list as I believe it is about the work and not “look at me doing the work” but I hope it can help others.
My biggest fear is falling victim of my white privilege – I need accountability and I look to you to help me with that!
Thank you for this, Tim — so well said. Per your request…
A few great podcasts
1) code switch
2) come through
3) why won’t you date me?
Beautifully written, and truly appreciated.
Your writing is beautiful, Tim. But your heart for humanity and for your black brothers and sisters is what really resonated. I continue to ask for anyone and everyone who cares to speak up, but especially those with privilege. Challenge those who don’t recognize the systemic racism that has destroyed so much of that same black excellence you wrote of.
And for those of us in education: we must continue to truly see our students of color, validate their experiences, help them embrace their God-given ability to be exceptional. We must demand that schools and districts use thoughtful, culturally relevant curricula and hire more qualified and competent teachers and administrators. So much can be changed in our society if education could change.
Thank you, Tim, for presenting a space to share ideas, to challenge each other, and to encourage one another to stay the course as we fight for a better country!
*teachers and administrators of color!
“I am not Black. But there is not a day that goes by when I am not enriched and inspired by Black excellence.”
Yes. My life is so enriched by my black brothers and sisters who surround my daily experiences. I am so grateful for your words (and you). Here’s to continuing our fight towards a more equal, just and compassionate world for our students, friends, family and *ALL people!
So much love.
Hi all, thank you so much for reading the piece and for your comments. To second Kathleen’s point, I’m also looking for accountability. Your recommendations for where to donate and for what to read and watch and listen to are helpful in doing just that. I’ll be checking in with you about them as a way for all parties involved to stay the course.
I also wanted to add here some feedback and questions that I received from other people about the piece. I’m hoping to continue to engage in conversation about the ideas they raise.
1) Is there a danger to dichotomizing celebrities of Black excellence, joy, and thought with George Floyd and other victims of police brutality? Does it help to call out that dichotomy or does it exacerbate the tropes about what “misbehavior” looks like in the Black community?
2) How do we get more White people to engage in conversations they find awkward or unprepared for without turning them off entirely? Should we be concerned about that at all? Does storytelling play too much “softball” with the truth?
3) Beyond grammar rules, does anyone have any articles to share about the capitalization/non-capitalization of Black and White? I think Michelle Obama has had some commentary about it in the past.
Thanks for sharing Tim. The contrast of knowing Black celebrity names and knowing the names of victims of police violence really struck me.
I think the hard part as a white person is realizing my role in perpetuating racism without meaning to. My first introduction to naming institutional racism and how it differs from discrimination was reading Beverly Tatum’s Why Do All the Black Kids Sit Together in the Cafeteria. This really created a foundation of terms that I didn’t know before and allowed me to be able to talk with others about race issues. She uses an analogy of a moving walkway. Us white people are all on a moving walkway that is living in a system that has raciak advantage. And those of us who are racist and discriminate are running forward in the walkway. Those of us who “don’t see color” or aren’t trying to cause harm, are still moving forward on the walkway and benefiting from a racist system. We must be turn and run against the moving walkway to be anti-racist.
Trying to be anti-racist is hard work. And we make mistakes. And we don’t want to deal with it. That’s the easy thing for us to do. And we’re lucky that we can go a day or even weeks or months without having to think about race.
I also think we also have to know that we are going to make mistakes. And keep trying.
Some other resources I’ve seen that are helpful recently
– for white people how to talk to family and friends about racism: httpss://www.instagram.com/p/CA-eKNfpmJu/?igshid=14y9n9gczemoc
-for when you feel overwhelmed by the problem of racism and don’t know what you can do or what changes can be made: https://www.joincampaignzero.org/
-for when you want to learn more about the experience of Black people in our criminal justice system: 13th on Netflix or the New Jim Crow by Michelle Alexander.
-and for when you want to see how race and class interact: From #BlackLivesMatter to Black Liberation by Keeanga-Yamaatta Taylor