Now is not the time to stand on the sidelines
There have been people-not-of-color participating in the demonstrations and marches, calling out George Floyd’s name
It’s been several weeks since George Floyd was killed under the knee of a callous police officer in Minneapolis, and if polls can be believed, white people who support peaceful protest in the wake of Floyd’s murder outnumber those who consider it disruptive or dangerous.
Certainly there have been people-not-ofcolor participating in the demonstrations and marches, carrying signs and calling out Floyd’s name with everyone else. But as the protests have rolled out in city after city, they’ve often been presented as an expression of anger and despair by and for the African American community.
I attended the prayer vigil at Mount Trashmore on June 2, and I was happy to notice a good number of white participants. But in coverage on local TV and in The Pilot, almost all the white folks had vanished. Everybody in the camera frame was Black. I wasn’t offended; we were mourning African Americans who had been caught in the wrong place at the wrong time (which can be a capital offense if you’re Black). Of course, media would spotlight speakers and participants of color.
Then I had a conversation with Dr. B. Theron Williams, one of the speakers at the vigil. “Why aren’t more white clergy speaking up publicly?” he asked.
“I’m not sure,” I replied. “Yes, we’ve been talking mostly with one another. We don’t want to seem like we’re ‘whitesplaining’ racism. We’ve been told repeatedly that what the Black community wants is to be seen and heard by other Americans, and that as anti-racist whites, our job is to listen, not speak.”
“Listening is good, but it isn’t enough,” Dr. Williams said. “You have to act. You have to speak out.”
OK then. We have a mission. White colleagues, congregants, friends and neighbors: We have to stop weeping all over our listservs and take action. Many of my colleagues have been sharing their pain in anguished poems and heartfelt prayers. But they don’t compare to putting yourself out there publicly, vocally, bodily.
We have to speak up. We have to show up. We have to ask tough questions.
Here’s a question: Why did violence break out late in the march down Atlantic Avenue in Virginia Beach on May 31 when other Tidewater cities such as Norfolk and Hampton hosted angry but uneventful protests? Did it have something to do with Beach police showing up with riot gear and pepper spray, while other police forces brought light gear and a low-key attitude to their cities’ demonstrations?
Nothing untoward happened at the Oceanfront that night until the officers stopped their cars and got out holding batons. Who decided that was a good idea? Who told the police officers to do that? Could a different approach have averted injuries, arrests and $300,000 in damage?
The VBPD may not want to answer those questions coming from me any more than it wants to answer them from African American residents of Virginia
Beach. But a large coalition, led by people of all ethnicities and containing a hefty representation of Virginia Beach’s white majority, might become vocal, visible and insistent enough to challenge an untenable status quo.
“White privilege” is a loaded term; many of us who have it are embarrassed by it and don’t want to use it. My conversation with
Dr. Williams, however, has shifted my thinking. If whiteness makes me a good partner with people of color in effecting societal change vis-à-vis racism, I will employ it as necessary and encourage other white folks to do so as well.
Our goal, ironically, will be to do away with white privilege — to make it as obsolete as the buggy whip.
Ellen Jaffe-Gill is rabbi of Tidewater Chavurah and contact person for the Hampton Roads chapter of the Virginia Interfaith Center for Public Policy.