Being an Ally

Hola mi Gente,
I ran across the following yesterday on a blog I was reading (here). I am of Puerto Rican descent and when I read the following tweet, it almost made me cry:

Image: Halline

I don’t think white people can fully appreciate how many of us are feeling. It’s as if our feelings -- as if we -- are invisible. If you can see me, see my people, acknowledge our pain, and offer to help… That means something.

So you have a chance to be better colleague today and here’s how… 

Being an Ally

First, THANK YOU for reaching out/ clicking/ being here.

No one marginalized group has ever successfully advocated on behalf of themselves alone to enact change. It takes informed and empowered allies to tip the scales, and I thank you for understanding that (even if this is the first time you’re actively realizing it) and seeking a way to better lend your voice. Again: Thank you.

The black community comes from a lot of different (and valid) schools of thought when it comes to enacting change. Protests, policies, petitions, and public demonstrations (literally didn’t even try for alliteration there) are all important tactics, but above all else, I believe that one on one discussion is the most effective change agent.

If after reading this, you feel better equipped to challenge even one person about their thoughts on racial injustice (or lack thereof) in America, that is a greater success than any hashtag I could devise or any mass message I could broadcast. When’s the last time a CNN pundit transformed someone’s worldview?

The complete resource: A Guide for White Allies Confronting Racial Injustice

Talk about it, give people space, and keep looking in the mirror. 

Today, I spoke to a total stranger -- a white woman -- who asked me, “How are you?” We were at a newsstand and maybe she saw the look on my face as I skimmed the tabloid headlines, or maybe she saw the hurt in my eyes -- I don’t know. We didn’t say much, but we hugged one another. That right there was worth a million online interactions. 

My name is Eddie and I’m in recovery from civilization… 

Sunday Sermon [Anger]

Hola mi gente,
To any police officers: I recognize and honor your humanity even as you're a part of a system that refuses to recognize my humanity and the humanity of my brothers and sisters. I recognize and honor your right as a human being to live with dignity even as the gang you belong to kills my brothers and sisters with impunity. 

Anger as an Ally

Anyone can become angry - that is easy, but to be angry with the right person at the right time, and for the right purpose and in the right way - that is not within everyone's power and that is not easy.

-- Aristotle

I often warn people they shouldn’t fuck with my Changó. In the Yorùbá religion, Changó (also spelled Shango) is the god of thunder and lightning.¹ I always associate the energy of this orisha (deity) with penetrating awareness. You don’t mess with him. He is a major symbol of the African Diaspora resistance against an enslaving European culture. Generally, he rules over male sexuality and human vitality. He is the owner of the Bata (3 double-headed drums), as well as the arts of music, dance and entertainment. In some ways, Changó can be said to be the product of logic and passion forged to achieve a strategic goal. This tension between cool reason and fiery passion forms the foundation of Changó's character and nature.

In the Puerto Rican vernacular, Changó is often associated with anger and impetuosity. To say someone es muy changó is to point out their unruliness, their brattiness, impetuosity, or something like that.

Anger is probably the most misunderstood emotion. We spend an inordinate amount of psychic energy trying to avoid it: “venting it away,” suppressing it, indulging it, struggling with it, over-analyzing it, projecting the soap opera we attach to it unto others, blaming it for our problems. We rarely take the time to welcome it, and just be with it -- to actually feel our anger without its corresponding and seductive narrative. Anger, for many of us, is an unwelcome but powerful stranger in our lives. It’s there, just underneath the surface, lurking in the shadows, waiting to sabotage our ass, often bubbling to the surface at the most inopportune moments. 

And please: I was there when you wished death on the driver that cut you off the other day. I was inside your head when you got angry at all those Muslims coming here to destroy Western Civilization. In fact, I know you got pissed when I called you out on that bullshit about being for war though war kills mostly innocent children and women. You got pissed when I pointed out the weakness in your political analysis, or because I’m too mutherfuckin profane.

Yes you. LOL!

Anger, or rather, mindless anger, is an occupational hazard for me. My work involves promoting social and economic justice and I am often thrust against really ugly shit: racism, brutality, the mechanisms of dehumanization It’s a difficult realization not because it’s hard for me to own up to it, but because it lays bare how much work I have ahead of me.

My work, however, has also taught me how to make anger an ally, a tool. Anger, clearly felt, without the attendant recriminations and self-justification, leads to a clear, discriminating awareness. It can become the impetus for just action. Here’s one example from my own life. When I first went about picking up the pieces of my life, I decided I wanted to get a formal education. Someone I love dearly told me not to waste my time, that I was too old, that I should drop immature fantasies and concentrate on gaining a skill and toiling somewhere for a living wage. I was so angry, so hurt that this person would tear apart my dream just like that. But I took that anger and I channeled it, used it to motivate me, not in the sense of “I’ll show him,” but as a way to focus my energies on what I had to do to make it from point A to point B. Drawing from anger’s energy, I was able to pinpoint my focus on what I needed to do, and that anger eventually facilitated my passion for knowledge.

Truth is a loving thought. Every thought based on love is a truth. Everything else is a desperate and sometimes dysfunctional cry for wholeness. And the question remains of how I should respond to anger. How can I be justified in responding in anger to an injustice? The answer here is clear: the only appropriate response is the willingness to give with an open heart.

This doesn’t mean, however, I passively allow an insecure bully to attack me, or to accept institutional injustices go unchallenged. On the contrary, living mindfully means I feel fully and act justifiably. It also means I don’t allow myself to be smeared by the mindless fears and ignorance of those that would advocate injustices. It does mean that my motivation must be based on what’s loving and true. This is hard path to tread because the temptation for moral indignation is great. But this isn’t rocket science, we all have a sense of what’s fair and when people are being unfairly treated or scapegoated. Most of us who are willing to take a look know when the game is rigged and rigged in such a way that we benefit at the expense of others. The trick is not losing my heart when coming up against the mindless fear and ignorance of those that would deny it.

My name is Eddie and I’m in recovery from civilization… 

Note:

1. I am not an expert in Yoruba religions, so please excuse any misrepresentations of that spiritual discipline. If anyone reading this can offer constructive criticism in this regard, I would be happy to hear it.