A promise to do better

Good God, y’all, I cannot believe it’s been a year since I last posted on my blog. The lull was initially unintentional — a result of my energy being focused on other projects and priorities. To my few but mighty readers, my apologies for leaving this space unattended for so long.
 
At the beginning of March, I was all set to regale you with news about some personal and professional milestones: My eight-year anniversary as a thriving entrepreneur and freelance media consultant. An exciting and long-awaited home improvement project. A new, super fun gig in the arts. Plus, y’know, the most important announcement of them all — I cut off all my hair and dyed it platinum.
 
Then COVID hit. 

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The current stash in my basement.

All the verve, pride and fulfillment I felt from my recent accomplishments was appropriated by fear.
 
Should I have spent all that money on replacement windows? What if the economy tanks, taking with it all my clients and income? Will my son, who was laid off in the first wave of shutdowns, ever get his unemployment so he can pay his rent? If I forget to wipe down my cart and touch my face while shopping at Kroger, will I end up on a ventilator in the ICU? Will I ever get to hug my son or my elderly parents again? 

​I know I wasn’t the only one engaging in a game of emotional ping-pong.
 
Early on in the crisis, fear had nearly everyone by the throat. My friends and I managed to stagger our breakdowns so that those of us who were feeling less fragile could prop up the ones who couldn’t breathe through our tears.
 
The mood was apocalyptic. The disease was so new, we didn’t know what we didn’t know. The science around COVID is ever-evolving, so we have more clarity now than we did at first. And the more medical experts continue to learn about the disease and how it’s transmitted, the safer we’ll all feel. (I’m talking about actual scientists, people. Not the ones who warn about demon sex and alien DNA.) 
 
While I no longer feel the need to disinfect every piece of fruit or Amazon box I bring into my house, I’m still not comfortable sitting in the petri dish of a movie theater, even at limited capacity with all appropriate safety measures in place.
 
I have become a toilet paper hoarder, however, and likely will remain one for the rest of my life. As God as my witness, I will never run out of Charmin again!
 
But I digress.
 
I’m incredibly fortunate that, so far, my workload and client base have remained fairly steady. That’s mostly because I do a lot of marketing and media consulting for healthcare clients, and they need help with messaging now more than ever. I’m grateful to be a teeny, tiny part of an industry that is literally saving our asses every day. (The arts gig I mentioned earlier is still going, albeit in a reduced capacity.)
 
I know others have not been so lucky. My son FINALLY got his delayed unemployment payments a few weeks ago, thankyoubabyJesus, but many others are still tangled in a quagmire of bureaucracy.
 
At this point, it doesn’t matter whose fault that is. The system was not prepared, and therefore cannot keep up with demand. Just like the rest of us, Gov. Andy has made some mistakes, but by and large, he is doing the best he can. At least, I take comfort in the fact that the man seems to genuinely give a shit whether we all live or die.
 
Yep, we are in the midst of a public health crisis with no clear end in sight. But for those of you just tuning in, a global pandemic was just the first act of Shitshow 2020.
 
If the stress and grief of COVID wasn’t enough, racial injustice has added rage and revulsion to the mix.
 
My city and the country are in the throes of social unrest unlike anything I have seen in my lifetime. I was born in 1972, just after the Civil Rights Movement. I remember Rodney King and the L.A. riots, but I felt so far-removed from that reality. If I am being honest, as a middle-class white woman, I have remained largely unaware of the pervasiveness of racism most of my life.
 
To combat my own ignorance about white privilege, I’ve read quite a few books and articles about it. Do your own Google search if you're interested, but this article by Lori Lakin Hutcherson, editor-in-chief at Good Black News, is one that I think every white person should check out.
 
Here’s a perfect example of my lack of understanding about privilege and the effects of racial microaggression. About a year ago, I said something that I truly thought was innocuous to a person of color, but it became clear very quickly after I said it that it was not. After sitting in some icky feelings and talking with others I trust about the incident, I decided to seek out the person (a stranger) and apologize.
 
I was embarrassed as hell. In my apology, I promised him I would do better. He kindly accepted and thanked me (which I had no right to expect and was amazed he was so gracious). I have tried every day since then to make good on my promise.
 
If you are white, it is highly likely you have said or done racist things in your lifetime. Even if you think you didn’t. Even if you would never do so intentionally. Rather than going on the defensive and screaming, I AM NOT A RACIST AND ANYONE WHO KNOWS ME WILL TELL YOU THAT I'M THE LEAST RACIST PERSON IN THE ENTIRE KNOWN WORLD, how about listening to the people of color around you who are hurting, and asking them what you can do better.

Questions I’m asking include: What can I change about my perception? My behavior? How can I stand up for you and with you? To me, that’s much more productive and might actually move the needle forward.
 
I have a Black Lives Matter sign in my yard. I put it there as soon as the protests started downtown, demanding justice for Breonna Taylor. I honestly don’t know much about the organization that has the same name. Maybe there are some ethical issues there, I don’t know. And I don’t care. The sign is in my yard because I support black lives — the people, the HUMANS who continue to be victims of systemic oppression.
 
Standing up for black lives does not mean I think they are the only lives that matter. If I said, “Save the Whales,” I am NOT saying, “Fuck All the Other Fish.” (Full credit to whoever created that meme.)
 
It also does not mean I am anti-police. I am anti-brutality. There are thousands of good cops keeping us safe. But I implore the good cops to stop turning a blind eye to the bad cops. I believe — and the statistics don’t lie — if a black guy and white guy each approach a cop carrying a gun, the white guy is more likely to be given the benefit of the doubt than the black guy. Only a cultural shift in law enforcement — and in our society — will ensure a black life is not valued less than a white one.
 
I don’t know exactly what the solution looks like. Less funding? More training? People smarter than me will need to figure that out. The first step is willingness to do something different. 

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​As for the recent protests, I fully support the reasons behind them. I do not condone the violence that has resulted. It breaks my heart to see my friends’ buildings and businesses looted. But you know what? A piece of me gets it.
 
Plus, history shows us that sometimes you have to burn shit down (metaphorically and literally) for things to change. As some of those same friends who’ve experienced property damage have eloquently said: Things can be replaced; people cannot.
 
The fight against systemic racism is not mine to lead, but I am here for it. I pledge to be a witness and an ally. I vow to use my middle-class white lady Karen powers for good.
 
As for my politics, before you start yelling LIBERAL SNOWFLAKE at your computer screen, you should know that I have voted Republican and Independent way more often than I’ve voted Democrat. I used to vote in favor of my conservative views on fiscal issues. But in the past few years, I’ve decided that I care WAY more about human rights and social issues. I know who will not get my vote in November, but I’m still not clear on who will.
 
I hope that I get to see a moderate, third-party candidate elected to a major office in my lifetime. I believe we need a shake-up of the two-party system because it sure as hell ain’t workin’ the way it is now. I'm asking myself if this is the year to make that statement. I truly don’t know.
 
Getting back to the yearlong delay on this blog … with all the fear, pain and anger churning around us this year, writing about my sheltered little life in this space felt way too selfish and narcissistic. So, I have abstained. I’m not sure that sharing my opinion on these hot-button issues isn’t also self-seeking and egotistical, but here we are.
 
2020 has been a merciless bitch, y’all. We’re all scared, bruised and emotionally weary. Some much more than others.
 
I’m pretty tired myself, but not too tired to stand up for black lives, wear a mask everywhere I go, and vote in November.

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