All the things I wish I’d said

Why do I do that? I wake up thinking wondering...what if I said….

The reason I need this is so I know if you’ll speak up when you see microaggressions happen to me

I challenge you to dig deep about microaggressions

What if I shared about the time a friend stood up for me with microaggressions 

What if I shared that I did this for my future kids...so I’d know who I’m raising them around

What if I shared that?

What if I shared what it feels like when a white person gets creative and stands up for you?

What if I shared examples of shutting down micro aggressions...both online and offline?

What if I shared examples of times when someone’s shut down an online micro aggression...what if I shared that those white voices paved the way for me to build journalsNOIRE?

What if I shared the positive?

What. If?

What if I hadn’t sent that email follow up saying thank you? Did I offer them relief from white fragility and white guilt? Did I make them upset and now they’re thinking that they don’t feel good but now my black friend does?

Where do we go?

How do we keep the commitments that were made aloud...no, not we...how do they keep the commitments alive? And better yet, will they keep them alive? 

Each commitment so unique. 

Some already in place.

Some wanting to implement.

Some thinking long term.

Some thinking short term.

Some overwhelmed.

Some had never thought of this before.

But what if I told them?

What if I told them about the anxiety I experience while shopping black?

What if I told them how I’m treated in Nordstrom?

What if I told them how I’m treated at work?

What if I told them the pain of a person standing by silently is more than the pain of the person committing the action?

What if the trump voter had lied? 

What if everyone hadn’t brought their full and true selves?

How would I make decisions based on fiction rather than fact?

How am I feeling grateful that she was honest yet still unsure about the friendship?

How am I not able to have one ounce of compassion for this person who I enjoyed and loved to hang out with so much?

How do I have respect for her being honest even about the future in that she might vote for trump again...yet I still need a break from her?

For now, I must put all the what if’s to bed and celebrate this milestone in my life of bringing my whole self to my circle of friends, receiving honesty and the ability to make decisions based on having all the facts. This is a place I’ve never been in while maneuvering within a white friend circle...which the majority of my friend circles are white.

I need to appreciate this moment which God has given me....which God has led me to.

Will they look up racial identity theory? Did those words, that phrase set off an alarm in their minds when I told them that’s what I’m going through?

Did they understand what I meant when I said this cost me a shit ton of money in therapy to do? I mean, because it really did.

What if I told them that black women paved the way for women’s rights? What if I told them how painful it is that diversity initiatives started by black women only make headway because it becomes about women…white women, not blacks?

How does she stand up for black employees yet put them in harms way while voting?

How does she have such an elementary view on this?

And not just her, many of them.

I didn’t know that most of my friends didn’t fully know what a microaggression was until question one “How do you recognize microaggressions when they occur?”

That question became so difficult to respond to b/c they were like “is this a microagression?” Hell, I didn’t even have a good way to define it...yet that wasn’t my responsibility. I did have a way to explain how they effect me.

What if I told them I’m angry? This is me...I am an angry black woman...and this anger comes from guarding white people’s feelings for 35 years. This anger comes from guarding them. This anger comes from not being guarded.

What if I told them an example of when a microaggression made me loose my fucking mind...I mean, it’s right here on journalsNOIRE

What if I told them they’d already lost a black friend because of this and their white provilage allowed it to go unnoticed?

So many what if’s in this little brain of mine.

Yet so many questions answered last night.

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What did they think when I said, “My mom went to a segregated school. So what, your parents were at the white school while she was at the black school...do you think that was equal? And my grandparents picked cotton for pennies while your grandparents were allowed to work for real wages.”

So, there was a lot of word vomit. As much as I planned this I am also human and I can get off script...even my own dam script. I react.

What did they think when I said “I’m scared. The fact that you have the privilege to look the other way when voting and put my life in danger makes me wonder what are you going to do when we’re at dinner and someone calls me a nigger? Why would you stand up for me then when you didn’t when you voted?”

How did I not have even an ounce of empathy when my friend said “I’m trying. I told you. I raised my hand. I didn’t have to say I voted for trump.”...but I didn’t. Me. The most compassionate, understanding, loving, nurturing human...not. One. Ounce. Of empathy. Only numbness. I didn’t feel the need to comfort her. I didn’t feel bad for “exposing” her to our friend circle. I just felt clear. Well, clearish...like now I know but what do I do with this knowledge? And more importantly what will they do with this knowledge?