“To the kind yet silent white women
who choose to pretend it’s not happening. The ones that offer prayers and hugs
and casseroles in the background but say nothing out loud. There is a problem.”
I am a southern girl through and
through on some things. By that I mean when it comes to comforting people –
food is my go-to solution. Death in the family? Casserole and pie. New baby?
Casserole and pie. Tough times? Casserole and pie. New to the neighborhood?
Casserole and pie. Food and service are my love languages. There was a time in
my life when I had 12 casserole dishes. I’m not kidding. I’ve downgraded to 4
and sometimes I worry I might need more than that. Knowing me well, when I
asked what message my Latina bestie would like to tell people after the
shooting in El Paso happened, her message above struck a chord.
Casserole and pie. I'm your girl.
If I’m being honest, I’m a little scared
to post this – for two reasons. The first one, and less important, is that
since I’ve become a (mildly) louder online voice and said what I really think
about things like white privilege, kneeling, gay pride, and lately, immigrant
rights and white supremacy, I’ve gotten some hate from ardent Trump supporters.
I’ve been called a moron, an idiot, a libtard. I’ve had to report to Twitter
several times for people asking me for my home address, where I work, and other
personal information. I NEVER post anything about my kids on Twitter for this
reason. Every single one of these people were strangers. And all of them, I
repeat, ALL OF THEM, touted their love for Jesus and Christianity on their
page. Some even sent me bible verses. That’s another post. But just to frame it
- if I, a white woman living in a very privileged bubble for my entire life, am
mildly frightened to say what I really think – imagine how people of color
feel.
Second, and most important, I don’t
want to get this wrong. I’ve tossed the idea of writing this around with my
Latina friends for awhile now. I’ve asked for their advice, their input, if
it’s even ok if I write it. All them resoundingly said I should. So, it is with
their blessing (and editing) that I post it. I firmly believe the time
is past for white people to hold the microphone. But I also know that
sometimes, our voices are magnified and listened to. If I do anything with the
privilege I did not earn and do not deserve, I want to use it to get the
message out that more people of color, more minorities, more LGBTQ, more people
who aren’t part of the traditional, white, patriarchal structure of this nation
SHOULD be listened to. So that’s part of what I'm trying to say - Shut up, listen, and
use what you have to amplify others.
Sit with my opening line for a
moment. We white women are often the first to show up with kind words,
casseroles, school supplies, immediate care when it’s needed. We are care
givers. There’s nothing wrong with that. In fact, we SHOULD do that. Those
things are needed. But we shouldn’t stop there. I’ve spent the last
several years of my life shutting up and listening. I’ve had hard conversations
with friends of color. I’ve intentionally gone to spaces where LGBTQ people
were leading. I’ve followed black women, transgender, Hispanic, LGBTQ,
Senators, & Representatives online. I’ve joined the Facebook group called
“Be The Bridge” led by Latasha Morrison where the rule is if you’re white - you
can’t post or comment for three months. It’s been 2 years and I still don’t
feel like I know enough to comment. I’ve listened. I’ve learned. I shut up for
a minute and realized how much I didn’t know. It’s been transformative to say
the least, and it is a journey I will be on for the rest of my life. You know
why? Because I’m not a minority. I never have been. And even if I someday am,
that doesn’t change the history of this country. White people have had the
floor for a very long time. It’s time to be quiet and listen to others. And
sometimes for some people, that’s hard. When you’re used to privilege, equality
feels a lot like oppression. But it’s not – I PROMISE YOU. I think it’s this
fear that is driving the hate in our country. The fear of losing power. It is
tearing our country apart and I wish people would just stop and see how much our
neighbors, Americans and those who desire to be Americans, are being targeted
and made “other”, in an effort to divide us.
My first of many to come Pride Parades. #freemomhugs makes for an awesome day hugging awesome people.
What’s happening at our border and
underneath the veil of ICE is horrific. I have friends here in Katy that are an
extension of my family. Just in the last year, we considered going to join a
peaceful protest against a migrant facility going up here in Houston. Because
of the timing, we would have to take our kids with us. My kids? Not a problem.
Her brown kids…. I got scared. First, I said bring their birth certificates. Then
I thought about what I just said. WHAT THE F? They are American born
children and I just got worried we might need their birth certificates!
Honestly, as much as we wanted to, we decided not to go. We do know it can
happen. They’ve seen it before. We drove to Brownsville together one summer to
visit their family and go to the beach. Going through the border patrol stop on
the way back, they reminded us to put away our phones. I didn’t understand why.
They explained because if we have our phones out and are texting, they might
think we are texting an illegal or a “mule” that is going around the check
point on foot. Then, once we stopped, Border Patrol asked about their teenage
son in the back seat – BECAUSE HE WAS ASLEEP. He’s a teenager. Teenagers sleep.
But the thought was he might have been running across the border all night. Are
you freaking kidding me? We passed without major incident, but it was eye
opening. These are things I never thought of. All this and we never left the
USA. We drove from Houston to Brownsville and back.
So yes, when a white supremacist
guy drives from DFW to El Paso to shoot “brown people” I take it personally.
That is my family he’s targeting. And it’s not just this family. I have known
so many incredible Mexican Americans. When I was a senior in college, I wrote
an essay about the family of my friend Gina Martinez. Gina and I have known
each other since childhood. We grew up together, I was an attendant in her
Quinceanera. Her grandfather worked with
my family for decades. We called him “Mr. Garci” because when we were little,
we couldn’t say Garcia. I interviewed Gina’s uncle, and Mr. Garcia’s oldest son,
Raul, for a term paper in an immigration class I was taking. Hearing the story
of the Garcia family changed my life. In short, Mr. & Mrs. Garcia were in
the process of legal entry to the US. Before they could receive their official
papers, they were forced to cross the Rio Grande because of political back fall
in Mexico when Raul was just a child. It was sheer terror waiting for their
official papers, but eventually they received them. They worked as migrant farm
workers until they made their way to Brownwood – my hometown. Mr. Garcia cut
lawns during the day and cleaned buildings at night. Mrs. Garcia raised their 7
children, kept other people’s children, and cooked amazing delicious food. All 7
of their children are US citizens, completed their education, and grew up to
have families and careers.
Mr. & Mrs. Garcia had trouble
becoming citizens. They knew more about US History than most of us, with Mrs.
Garcia helping Mr. Garcia study for the exam. He was so nervous when he took
the citizenship test, he would forget the answers in English. Raul told me
about time and again driving his dad to take the test and watching him come out
with tears in his eyes when he didn’t pass. Watching Until 1984 - when
something changed. My dad ran for mayor of Brownwood. Mr. Garcia wanted to be
able to vote for him. He took and passed the citizenship test. In his very
first election, his very first vote, he voted for my dad. I can’t write that
without tears. There is no finer family that I know of – and their story
started out as so many we are still hearing today. There is nothing stronger than the spirit of
two people giving everything for the future of their family.
I have many stories I could tell
you. Stories from my teenage years of sitting in my friend’s backyard on
weekends with his entire family, aunts, uncles, cousins, brothers &
sisters. We helped his mom make tamales and chips. We were always welcome. My
friends here that invited us to join them last year on Christmas Eve. We had
just gone through a divorce, but we were having Christmas together with our
boys because we thought it was important. They invited us to join because they
knew it was a hard year for us. Instead of a sad year looking at what used to
be, we were invited to be family. My children learned songs in Spanish and
participated in La Posada and had a pinata with their “cousins”. I can’t write
that without tearing up either. In our time of need, our Mexican friends made
us family. They have always made us family. It was an uncle’s first Christmas
with family in 10 years. He had accidentally overstayed his Visa once, and it
had taken 10 years and lots of family money to restore his right to visit the
US. This was not just any Christmas, it was a very special Christmas to their
family and without hesitation, they included us.
I tell you this because when our
President uses words like “invaders”, “rapists”, “infestations”, “killers”, “a
drain on society“– he is talking about my family. What if he were using those
words to describe white women? Or the white men shooting up Walmart? Would you
feel the same?
Make no mistake, Hispanics ARE
being targeted by the current administration. I am not advocating for open
borders, and neither would any of the families mentioned above. We all know
that border security is a necessity. What we are protesting is the use of words
that dehumanize an entire culture and the forcible separation of families.
Comprehensive immigration reform is needed. Even Republican senators like Ted
Cruz (if you know me, you know I am not a Tec Cruz fan, so if I’m citing him as
an example I mean it) have tried to pass legislation to fund more judges to
clear the backlog of asylum cases, provide more funds, training, and materials
to Border Patrol, and improve detention centers so that families can stay
together. He was resoundingly shot down by Republicans. They wouldn’t even put
it to a vote. There are solutions that are in the best interest both of those
coming to this country and those living here. We are supposed to be the land of
opportunity and contrary to what our President says, I have never met a
Hispanic that didn’t seek to make me feel like one of the family.
Words have power. When you have
people already flirting with racism and misogyny and you put someone in power
that feeds that flame, it is not a surprise that there has been an uptick in
violence and crime recently. They feel legitimized and validated. And because
words have power that is why, as white women especially, it is so important
that we don’t just offer casseroles and prayers when we see other families
suffering. Yes, we should do those things. Yes, there is no such thing as other
people’s children. We are mothers and natural care givers. But we must also use
our words. We need to use them in public spaces, and we need to use them at
home with our families and we need use them in letters and phone calls to our
law makers and in protests and with our votes.
The time for only casseroles and
thoughts and prayers has passed. Do those things. Care for your neighbor. But
stand with them and fight with them and call out racism with them. In this most
important time in our country, do not be silent. Don’t watch and love
the movie CoCo and then refuse to speak out. You don’t get to do that anymore.
Either you are fighting with your neighbor, or you are complicit in the racism
being targeted against them.
I’ve always admired the Mexican
culture. What I know of them, what I’ve seen growing up, is a culture so beautiful
and strong in family. I love their language, their holidays, their food, their
music, their amazing sense of community. They have never once made me feel like
an outsider. I have always been welcomed. I believe it is our time to make sure
that they, and all the lovely cultures and lifestyles in our country, also feel
welcomed. We can fight for common sense immigration reform and not lose our
sense of humanity. We can understand that borders need to be protected and know
that separating children from their families is wrong. We can refuse to
legitimize an administration that seeks to turn us against one another. We know
better. I believe in my heart that we do. The world is made up of one thing –
human beings. We have all grown up under our own experiences. We all see the
world differently. But we are all part of the world.
What is an American? An American is
someone who lives here. An American is someone who loves this country. An
American is someone that comes here in search of a better life. An American is
all of us. There is not a skin color associated with American. There never has
been and there never will be. We are stronger together and THAT is makes
America great. Of course, we can improve and learn and grow and change. That is
true of any country and the beautiful thing about the USA is that our
Constitution was written with the ability for Amendments. We are literally
built to change as we grow.
We don’t need to be made great
again. Historically, things haven’t always been great for everyone here. But we
can be great and will be great going forward – if we can remember that an
American means all of us, one big family, and we aren’t defined by color.
“We may have our differences, but
nothing is more important than family.”
– Miguel, from Coco
