Politics, Race & Ethnicity

Dear America: It’s Not You. It’s Me.

Dear America,

We need to talk.

You see, tonight Trayvon Martin’s unremorseful killer was acquitted. Tonight, I fell silent with a dear friend when we heard the news. Our eyes closed. Our heads fell into our hands. There were no words.

Tonight, I heard my mother’s voice crack and tremble under the weight of her grief as she expressed her shock and sadness at seeing an unapologetic black-child-stalker-and-killer walk free.

And tonight I realized, more than ever, that as much as I love your potential, as much as I love the good that I know is in your heart, as much as I appreciate and see the beauty of your highest calling, the truth is that I feel like this relationship — our relationship — is becoming abusive and toxic on a level that nearly boggles the mind.

I’m a student of history, so I knew our relationship would be challenging. But for reasons that defy all logic, I always thought we could find a way. Yet tonight I find myself shell-shocked and worried that we’re simply incompatible. On paper, we have so many core values in common. In practice? Not so much. I know what you’re going to say — No, it’s not just the Zimmerman verdict. It’s the absurd Supreme Court ruling on the voter’s rights act. It’s the profound stupidity and prejudice exemplified in Mayor Michael Bloomberg’s defense of stop and frisk in New York, an official policy of harassment and profiling primarily directed toward people of color. It’s the insanity occurring right now in Texas, where women are stopped and frisked for tampons as they enter the legislature to stand up for reproductive rights — even as guns are freely allowed. It’s the fact we do not have a federal ban on the death penalty, despite the fact that we know innocent people — American citizens — have been killed by our imperfect justice system. It’s the inability of this President to keep his campaign promise to close Guantanamo, despite the human rights abuses that continue to take place there. It’s the robust indifference so many of my fellow citizens have to poverty in this country, even the plight of poor whites. It’s the widening of the black/white wealth gap under a black President. It’s also having a black President who doesn’t talk about race. It’s the prison industrial complex and its marginalization of poor, working class people and people of color. It’s the Republican party’s war on women. It’s the crisis in Chicago. It’s the Democratic party’s complicity in establishing mass surveillance and the unconstitutionally invasive practices of the NSA’s PRISM program. It’s the drones. It’s the drones. It’s the drones. It’s the legal, corporate buyout of our political process. It’s the pathetic excuse for “progressive” television known as MSNBC. And — my God, that’s just a few of the distressing issues happening now. I haven’t even begun to talk about our history. The history of black women, men and children being murdered without consequence — a practice so old and institutionalized that it’s become an American tradition. I’ll stop talking about history now, though, because I see your eyes glazing over. Yes, I know, you’re always telling me to let it go, since you think we’ve magically solved those wily problems of the past.

You know you’re in a horrible relationship when you find yourself making those “pro’s” and “con’s” lists, trying to decide whether to stay or go. Maybe leaving has never really felt like an option — because, well, where would I go? Yes, I dated France for a few years and played the field in a few different countries, but I know there’s no paradise down here. Where would I go where there is no injustice? Where would I go where sexism and classism and racism and queer-phobia aren’t salient dimensions of social life? Where would I go where I would not be disgusted by daily forms of micro and macro aggression and oppression?

And then there’s another inconvenient truth.. the fact that I’m kind of in love with you. It’s that irrational kind of love that loves in the face of ugliness, pain and dysfunction. It is this irrational love that has made me hold out hope for so long. Love that made me listen, against my better judgment, when you sweet talked me with “change” I could believe in. Love that has made me – and continues to make me – want to see what is beautiful about you despite your flaws. Because God knows we are all flawed.

Our destinies are intertwined. I’m not saying that we can’t be together, but I am saying that I might need to see – and live among – other people. Other people who do not have a death penalty. Other people who have boldly legalized gay marriage. Other people who do not have a program of mass incarceration. Other people who do not promote a religion of gun ownership and cultural violence. Other people who protect women’s rights. Other people who have laws against hate speech.

Yes, I know no country is perfect and every society has its baggage. I’m not wearing rose colored glasses. But I am wearing tears – and not just my own. I’m wearing my mother’s tears. My community’s tears. My allies’ tears. And the worst thing of all is that there is nothing new about this. We’ve been crying these tears for many lifetimes, for many generations. Here, in my sadness and pain, it would be easy to blame you, to say that you are the problem. But that would also be a lie. I am part of the problem. And I am also part of the solution.

What I know for sure is that it is the ego that ails us. What I know for sure is that the only hope we have of building a more perfect union is spiritual healing. And I know for sure that transcending the bullshit, hypocrisy and violence of it all begins with me.

So, listen America. I’m not saying it’s over. And I have no idea where we go from here. But I now for sure that love is not supposed to feel like this.

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96 thoughts on “Dear America: It’s Not You. It’s Me.”

  1. I’m with you. What’s going on in this country is crazy, horrifying. I lived in another country for 25 years where a lot of things were better than they are here, but ultimately, for better or worse, this is home. I can’t say I love it. Our relationship just is, because we have a past that goes back to my birth and beyond. Someone asked the playwright Athol Fugard why he continued to live in South Africa (this was under apartheid) when he’d been offered asylum in a number of different countries. He said it was because he could stand on a street corner and understand all the dynamics of everyone who passed by, and that’s what made it home. In a foreign country, you miss those nuances. Also, in my situation, I found it difficult to be the target of anti-American sentiment, even though I felt that sentiment was justified, and even though I wasn’t personally the target. It created a wall between them and me, and I had nowhere else to go, no one from my own country with whom I could share my feelings, so I felt profoundly alone. Now I’m home, with access to the internet, and very grateful to be in contact with friends and to be able to read your blog!

    1. I think what is rough for people of color is that so often even home doesn’t feel like home.. so dealing with the foreignness we feel abroad can be so much better than the dehumanizing feelings that come from feeling alienated and oppressed.

      Even so, I think people of all backgrounds are increasingly not feeling at home with some of the madness we are observing bubbling up in our country. . Which is why now, more than ever, it is important for each of us to find our “true home”, as thich nhat hanh speaks of it

      1. I was going to comment on this, but your reply above said exactly what I was going to say.

        I will add: it’s small consolation, but your letter to America has real beauty in how clearly and sensitively you articulated your thoughts and feelings.

        1. Hi Charles. Thank you very much for your kind words. The real consolation is knowing that I/we are not the only ones that feel this way. There is power in commiseration.

  2. I have to believe that all of this is the last, horrible gasp of conservative,mainly white men watchng their majority status in society decline. They secretly love groups like The Tea Party because if stupids get into office, they are easily manipulated. They will not go gentle into that good night. And we have to face the consequences of them hanging on with their claws. I have to believe it will all be undone.

  3. This is, without a doubt, the best reflection I’ve read on the injustice done yesterday. Thank you for making it whole, the travesty that’s going on in the entire nation.

  4. it sure has been one looong last gasp. I thought it couldnt get any worse when I was younger in the 80’s. It just does not let up.

  5. I’ve been on the verge of tears since the verdict came out. This post was one of my breakdown points. I cried, because you’ve said what I’ve been feeling. Being in a relationship with America has become painful. Thank you for putting it into words.

    1. I’ve found myself crying off and on. Emotional catharsis is important. We should honor our feelings and acknowledge our pain.. so that whatever actions we take come from a place of being centered and clear in our intentions. Or at least that’s how I see it..

  6. Wow, sister. I saw this via FB and immediately shared it with my circle. I’ll tell you what I told them: feels like you reached down into my soul and spoke my truth. Thanks for your words and your spirit.

  7. Thanks for this. I love so much about the US, but sometimes it really seems like a twisted co-dependent sort of love. I have such a sense of what could be, if only, if only, if only. Your words ring loud and strong.

  8. There’s so much self-feeding hatred driving people it seems. It is scary, and maddening, and heartbreaking. There is no kind of justice or apology that will restore the lives lost, including those lost not yet to death but to long waste of imprisonment. Yet, we do want to feel that something just was done, that the powers that be are saddened as well and ready to make better choices.

    1. What is especially challenging is remaining committed to compassion and consciously refusing to engage in the same kind of stereotyping/group-think that drives hatred — even when faced with hatred. I have a feeling that if we are each diligent in our own lives we will find that there are many more of “us” — open hearted people with good intentions, than hateful, unconscious people.

  9. I often talk with my wife about leaving this country, to live in other parts of the world to see how i would be treated… Because you know what america ” it’s Not you… It’s me”..
    Thank you so much for writing this…
    Are you on facebook.. If so befriend us

  10. I have no words. I thank you my dear Sister, your words speak directly to my broken heart. You have pointed out what is going on with me. I love a nation that truly does not really love me. Wow, that felt good to type out. Thank you.

    1. Brokenhearted really is the feeling .. and in these moments that love feels so unrequited. What gives me hope is the fact that I know there are many of us who have love in our hearts for each other beyond our social conditioning, beyond our “in-groups”.. the challenge is to affirm and amplify that love — while also acknowledging and healing the pain we feel in the midst of that love.

  11. Uh, wow. I’m not a person of color (though I AM a gay man), and yet this is precisely–PRECISELY–how I’ve felt about my country for about 10 years now, but have struggled to verbalize.

    My heart hurts. I am devastated and sad for my country, for where its gone in the past 10 or so years and for where it’s heading as of right now.

    I struggle, every day, with feeling a need to effect change, to throw my full weight behind the process of rectification, to stop this current appalling tide of racism, misogyny and homophobia–but simultaneously feeling totally, utterly and completely powerless.

    I am white, and a man, a beneficiary of a passel of fucked up, undeserved, unearned gifts–bullets both dodged and “magic.” It is my deep, soul-level feeling that these privielges carry with them a weight of responsibility. This is often derided as “liberal white guilt,” but call it what you may. To use a well-worn cliche, you’re a part of the problem, or you’re a part of the solution. Period.

    But what I am realizing is that while I am privileged in some ways, I am not, ultimately, privileged in ways that truly matter vis a vis effecting change. I may be a white man, but I come from, and still toe the line of, poverty; I have neither access, nor position, nor connection to the uphill power structure. I have no means of being “heard,” of communicating what I’ve been fortunate to learn from both experience and observation, and from listening to women and people of color (and of course my fellow LGBTQ people). And so I feel like I am gagged and tied to a chair in my front yard, and forced to sit idly and watch while my house burns down.

    To simply sit by and watch while tampons are confiscated in law chambers–an innocuous act on its face but one of unfathomable symbolism. To simply sit by and watch while I and other gay people are continually disparaged, beaten back, and sometimes even beaten to death, for having the temerity to want to be treated equally. To simply sit by and watch while people of color are continually demonized, scapegoated, condescended to and, ultimately, told to shut the fuck up because their experiences, perspectives and VERY LIVES simply do not matter.

    I’m probably being melodramatic. All of this probably sounds like nothing more than excuse-laden, bleeding-heart liberal guilt-whining. And maybe it is. All I know for sure is that the past 10 or so years have enlightened me to many things, and one of them is the steepness of the grade of the power structure, and how seemingly impossibly uphill the battle is.

    I feel handily defeated. Game, set, match.

    1. Hi John – Thanks very much for reading and for posting your thoughtful reply. I think it’s important for all of us to be critical and reflexive about how we feel and what we think – especially those of us who experience some degree of privilege – but at the same time, I think it’s really important for each individual to affirm and acknowledge “This is how I feel – and this is okay” – without an caveats .. It’s okay to be melodramatic sometimes.

      I think it’s also very important that you’re aware of the ways in which you experience both privilege and disadvantage.. And I agree w/ you that privilege carries with it responsibility. One of the responsibilities we have is to pay attention to not only how we feel but also how we feel compelled to act, in small ways and big ways, in the sphere of influence we each have in our everyday lives. I think many of us do feel very powerless at times — the list of “issues” is very long and it can be overwhelming. But at the same, time, each of us has enormous power in our own lives with regard to the decisions we make — and we also have a great degree of influence. One book I highly recommend is “Connected: The Surprising Power of Our Social Networks and How They Shape Our Lives” by Christakis and Fowler – http://www.amazon.com/Connected-Surprising-Social-Networks-ebook/dp/B002OFVO5Y/ref=sr_1_1?. because ti helps unveil how the way we live our lives affects not just people in our immediate environment, but also those within 3 degrees of separation — and sometimes many more people than that. The micro is inextricably linked to the macro. There is a lot we can do to improve our communities by paying attention to what’s going on in our homes, our backyards, our neighborhoods, our local politics..

      C.

  12. A friend posted this on her facebook page…needless to say I welled up reading it. I knew my relationship was on the brink when I last traveled overseas and as the only American found myself having to explain American life and attempt to defend the indefensible only to have those from other countries explain to me what for them America represents when I could no longer defend it. I often think about what they said.

    I feel like you’ve placed this horrible reality into a context that rings so true. You’ve beautifully drawn the connective tissue between what happens to people of color, to women, to anyone who in this country struggles, but still holds onto the hope of the “idea” of what America could be versus the constant realities we are faced with and the true struggle of reconciling the reality from the myth. It is all one thing in the end and it is the feudal power of what is becoming a minority in this country desperately trying to hold onto their power for as long as they can. They will destroy in the attempt to alleviate their fear that they might lose power and what they do to others could someday be done to them.

    I wish America could be all that it promises to be…or at least try because at this point, there doesn’t even seem to be an earnest attempt to reach.

    Thank you!

    1. Hi Roz – thank you for your comment. I share your hopes. I am wondering if you also share my commitment to “beginning with me”, and if so, what that looks like for you.

  13. This is my favorite part:

    “What I know for sure is that it is the ego that ails us. What I know for sure is that the only hope we have of building a more perfect union is spiritual healing. And I know for sure that transcending the bullshit, hypocrisy and violence of it all begins with me.”

    Because this is true and the only way out of this mess. The change begins in each individual, and hopefully spreads to those who are hateful or apathetic.

    1. That’s my favorite part, too. Because it’s a reminder that I must always temper any concern with the world “out there” with an awareness of what I can do “right here”, “right now”.

  14. Absolutely brilliant. This article expresses the deep undertones of what it feels like to be a minority in this nation. Yet, faced with harsh realities most of us still believe in freedom and equality here. As a educated black male married with no children, my wife and I have discussed relocation several times. The only problem is where? Africa? Europe? Brazil? The reality is that even our own brothers and sisters have a disdain for us as “african americans” yet not knowing how we truly feel on a daily basis navigating this serpentine road.Even though the historical context of this country is horriffic for people of color, the after effects of willie lynch will forever keep people here in bondange, almost voiding eany ideas of mass relocation. It is the mind that is still enslaved, not the physical body. So, America although once a promising land, full of hope, the reality for people of color is that this place has been our worst nightmare since we sailed away from the gold coast of ghana.

    1. Hi – I agree with you that many people remain enslaved to their thoughts. However I am wondering why you think that our history and its after-effects will “forever keep people here in bondage” .. why do you see these processes and mechanisms as permanent?

  15. The answer is not France but right above your head. Go to Canada where women can decide what they want to do to their bodies, same-sex marriage is legal from coast-to-coast-to-coast, access to health care is considered a human right (and gun ownership is not), the banking system is not left to become rogue gamblers, kids are educated at par with or better than Japan and Europe. Is Canada perfect? No, but Canadians and the thousands of Yankee expats who call it home find themselves in an awkward situation, looking south of the border, shaking their heads and saying, “WTF USA?” As a dual citizen with American parents it troubles me to see where the great American experiment has veered.

    1. Yes, we still have some work to do up here, but I think we’ve made great progress the last 25 years, especially on the west coast, where I call Vancouver home 🙂 -Proud Canadian

  16. I never cry about anything, but I damn near almost teared up reading this because this letter…this very letter expresses my relationship with America as it stands–knowing that its holistic change starts with me. Just…why?

  17. Thank you Crystal, for providing a sensitive, clarifying piece that speaks to the pain our community is feeling with this latest assault on our humanity. Given our history, we recognize the imperfections of America like no others, and as weary as we get, we can never let the ideal of America die behind a fog of acceptance.

  18. Hey Crystal, it sucks. You have to find a country that requires more of itself than that it provokes powerful questions. You have to find a country that has at least one answer. The country, inevitably, will be yourself, as you’ve pretty much stated here. The borders must be such that they can be transcended and withdrawn, resurrected, and withdrawn again, as many times as needed. Good luck. We aren’t well and we’re unsure of that, so perhaps more than good luck is needed. If you could see how unsuccessful the neocortex has been in integrating itself with the beast it’s riding on, well…

  19. Wow – My sister – I love you in so many ways. Thank you for your voice, your eloquence – your strength – your intelligence – your courage – your energy… the list goes on and on. All the beautiful women are on the east coast and are a lot younger than me. smile. Oh well. But seriously it does my heart good to know the work we did in the 60’s and 70’s did not fall on deaf ears. With your voice I know we are in good hands. Stay on the path. Namaste

  20. You’ve really summed up my feelings about this situation. I’m not sure where I intend to go from here, but something has to change…

  21. http://lovelyseasonscomeandgo.wordpress.com

    Your post here is amazing and I agree with you here. Also as far as the TM case is concerned It is my hope and prayer that it will help even more people to wake up to the realities of people of color.
    I just wanted to interject that Dr. Joy DeGruy Leary’s book “Post Traumatic Slave Syndrome” is an excellent start to help some get a better grip and understanding as to why what goes on in the African American community and what people of color experience on a daily basis. She helps with encouraging our nation to work toward healing.
    Check out her website too.

    http://joydegruy.com/

    1. I’ve been aware of her work for a long time. I think she raises many important issues, but I think the problems we need to confront go a lot deeper than slavery. It’s not simply about the consequences of racial oppression — though that’s certainly much of what we need to acknowledge — but it’s also the central problem of how all human beings construct their sense of self around the ego, whether it’s an egoic personal identity or an egoic collective identity.. either way, it’s problematic and inevitably leads to suffering – suffering that is universal in scope, not restricted to descendants of people who were enslaved.

  22. From the first time I read Frederick Douglass’ Narrative, I knew that it was completely presumptuous to even imagine that I know what it’s like to be black in America, and I think that this is part of the problem. White people can’t even remotely understand what it’s like to be black in this country, but they want to believe that they can. I do know that love is a choice and that love cuts across all boundaries. Gandhi and King and many others chose love in the face of hatred and they changed our world. I look at the metropolises that we’ve created and I’m amazed that what I’m looking at is the product of individuals. If there are enough of us who choose love we can build a city or country of love. Don’t give up hope sister. I love you.

    1. I think the question of whether we can imagine each other’s social lives is interesting. Some people feel that presuming we can understand each other is problematic and harmful. Others feel that we must try to imagine each other’s circumstances and experiences in other to live together harmoniously. I think that the truth is somewhere in between these two poles. We certainly can’t actually know what it’s like to be any one else — it’s not even simply a matter of your being white and trying to imagine being black. Can you really know what it’s like for anyone else to be white? On that micro, inter-subjective level, we are all simply guessing and projecting. On the other hand, if we do not try to imagine each other’s suffering, then we cannot really extend empathy. We must accept that we cannot really know each other’s pain, but we must also try to imagine it. And the truth is, the more we confront our own internal suffering, the more we understand what is universal about the suffering endemic to the human condition.

      Sending love back to you, brother.

  23. Thank you for writing this amazing piece. You have done a better job than I could have imagined possible to bring coherence to the mix of emotions that I have about the United States. I now live in Asia and the longer I am away the more painful it becomes to see what a dreadful turn our country has taken for the worse. For those of you that think leaving will solve your anxiety about the United States, it won’t. In fact, in some ways it intensifies as it is so much easier to selectively follow the negatives in a contextual vacuum. Nonetheless, your writing and the many comments that accompany it, have brought some relief to know that there are others who feel similarly conflicted. Thank you again.

  24. Crystal …America needs to talk about another issue also. Why are so many African American and slave cemeteries being destroyed and ignored? Please help us get the word out. Thanks!

    Press Release

    Honor, Don’t Destroy, the Graves of Slaves at Fearn Plantation,
    Coalition of Black and White Family Researchers Urge

    DANVILLE, VA. July 1, 2013 – A coalition of black and white descendants of families associated with the Fearn Plantation area in Danville, Va., the last capital of the Confederacy, have issued a letter urging thousands of their kin and other advocates to protest the city’s plans to disrupt the graves at Fearn Burying Ground found on the property, without proper study and erection of a memorial.

    The city wants to convey the entire site to a Chinese company for development as a furniture-assembly plant. As the nation commemorates the 150th anniversaries of the Emancipation Proclamation and many milestones of the Civil War, destruction of such an important piece of American and Virginian history is an outrage and a disservice to the memories of Danville’s pioneer families and the enslaved people who made the city “the World’s Best Tobacco Market,” organizers said.

    The individuals who drafted the statement are primarily researchers who have been tracing the histories and genealogies of white, black and Native American families associated with the Fearn Plantation area. The descendants from around the country connected through various pages on social media and drafted the statement jointly for distribution to thousands of their family members, friends and advocates. They have also organized an online petition and started a new Facebook page : SAVE THE FEARN PLANTATION CEMETERY
    http://www.gopetition.com/petitions/save-the-fearn-family-plantation/signatures.html

  25. Dear Crystal, Thank you for your posting. Your thoughts brought so many experiences back. First, my last two years of high school in a small town that also had three Native American tribes. This was my first encounter with racism as many the teachers treated them differently. Only a few of us called the teachers for doing so. My second experience was when I went to college and had an African assigned as my roommate. Many felt we should not live together. We both wanted to be roommates. The third was when I got a teaching job in small city with a large African-American population. We had only one African-American teacher. Restaurants refused to serve us, if she was with us. When we had that happen, we wouldn’t’ return. This was during the Detroit riots and the slaying of Dr. Martin Luther King. Several teachers insisted that our middle school share their feelings openly and honestly in our classrooms. We were reprimanded by our principal. We continued any way. As a coach for girls basketball and volleyball, my teams played against all-White middle schools, an there were several times when incidents happened when parents were racist. As coaches, we would pull our teams off the floor and have the gym cleared so the game could continue. The more years I taught, the easier it got, each year, I would meet with my team and discuss the idea of racism.

    After 28 years, I left teaching and became an education consultant. I have worked in 38 states, Slovakia and Kobe, Japan. It was always amazing to me that the only two places where I did not encounter racism was in the two foreign countries. I now live in West Michigan where racism runs rampant and I find myself continually speaking up when people in my midst begin saying anything that I perceive to be racist. It does create some interesting reactions, but will continue in my own way to try do what I can to call out racism when it happens. Thank you for giving me the courage to share my thoughts. Ann

    1. Hi Ann, thank you so much for sharing your experiences and reflections. I am so glad to hear that you are speaking up against racism when you hear it. That is one of the most powerful things each of us can do in our own communities. We can help our friends, families and colleagues rise in consciousness and awareness by teaching them that intolerance is unacceptable. Please keep up this good and crucially important work.

  26. Oh my goodness. My response could extend beyond the allowed characters…but let me begin simply by saying, thank you for your honesty and ability to articulate in the most intimate manner the human frustration that exists across the globe. In my twenties I dove in head first in my attempt to understand the complexities of cultures, political systems, religion, and people. I struggled with decisions impacting my future; should I position myself prominently and leverage my intelligence, passion, and experience to advocate for meaningful justice at the broadest level despite knowing this required great personal sacrifice? Or, recognizing that life is short, should I isolate myself from the escalating woes of our world and instead live a self-sustainable life that focused on maximizing deep happiness and satisfaction for myself. (I believe the image was a small house in the Northwest Territories, a table full of my own bounty, endless wine, passionate love-making, and loads of children playing about whose minds were pure and bright.) Alas, I chose the middle road; a single child and a long career that made a difference by touching lives locally. Now, at age forty-six, my heart is heavy and my eyes cannot contain the tears. It feels as though something is spiraling out of control…the average man and woman who comprise 99% of this world have lost their voice. It often seems that only two choices now exist; complete escapism or revolution. I do not wish for either.

    I will share your post. I know it will speak to many.

    1. Hi Lisa – I really appreciate the thoughtfulness of your reply. Warm thanks for sharing your insights and decisions over the years. I think people routinely and grossly under-estimate the important impact we can each have in our everyday lives, right here in our families, communities, classrooms and work environments.

      That said, yes, I believe your frustration and tears are shared by many, including and maybe especially those who have made the kind of impact you describe.

      I do think a revolution is in order, but not the kind most of us think about. The kind of revolution I have in mind is more like a radical transformation — a different way of seeing ourselves and each other – beyond identities – that is grounded in what we have in common, a commitment to seeing our interconnectedness and marshalling the power of compassion. I truly believe that our personal liberation and spiritual freedom is inextricably linked to improving the welfare of all other living beings on the planet.

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