Who to contact, what to do: ally-ship for #blacklivesmatter

I've been AWOL for a while, waiting for inspiration to strike. And while I was working on a really fascinating (hah) piece on the Creation Museum in KY, more and more news kept coming in with reference to police violence and communities of color.

I've been reading a lot about these most recent two instances of police violence, and I am trying to figure out how I, as a white girl, can get more involved. (Clue: this is it done WRONG.)

One of the many pieces I read, looking for guidance, is This is what white people can do to support #BlackLivesMatter (from August 2015). Unfortunately, if anything, it left me a little more confused. I understand the argument that it's not the responsibility of communities of color to educate white folks about...well, anything. That the onus rests upon us to educate ourselves. And I try to accept that responsibility, hopefully with some success, but I think there's a disconnect between educating ourselves and knowing how to be a good and useful ally (or other term of your choice, since some folks don't like that word). Specifically, having worked in museums in collaboration with folks of Native/Native American/American Indian/First Nations heritage, the idea is (usually) to get the heck out of the way and do what you are specifically asked to do. That is, the community makes the decisions about what needs to be done, and you are, in essence, a foot-soldier for the community's mission. You are not making your own decisions about how Native folks should be organizing or prioritizing activism and community-building.

So that's where I get stuck when folks say things like "It is not up to Black Lives Matter, nor any movement led by and for communities of color, to make space for or articulate a vision for white people." Absolutely it's not their problem to "make space for" white people, but I think it would be very helpful to hear what folks from communities of color want from white allies: since I don't necessarily share their lived experience, I may guess just plain wrong about helpful roles that I can play. I don't get to speak for communities of color; I don't get to say what they need most urgently. And so I can and will stumble along doing what I can, to the best of my judgmnt but I may not see things that are obvious to folks in other social positions, and reading all the bell hooks and Malcolm X and Ta-Nahisi Coates and Baratunde Thurston in the world may not rectify that, because book-learning is different from experiential-learning. I can and should do the book-learning on my own initiative, but I'm not sure that'll be enough to get me where I need to be.

And of course, if communities of color don't want to elaborate on how white folks can be allies, that is also their choice. I don't get to tell them that they can't do that, either! But I do think that, to the extent that leaders within communities of color can tell us how to ally, we will be better and more effective allies, if that's what's wanted. And our job is to not make it about us and to do what we're told will be helpful to the community. Maybe it's "shut up; this is our movement," but I think there is actually a desire to have white allies, because it's NOT just an issue for black people; like Pres. Obama said, it's an issue that should concern all fair-minded people.

Coincidentally, I also just finished Negin Farsad's How to Make White People Laugh, which also contains a section on "how white people can be allies to minority communities." (Farsad is Iranian-American, so she's speaking from a rather different social position..although she talks a lot about her introduction to social justice work coming through civil rights with reference to the African-American studies scholarship community.) Even more confusingly, her take on white ally-ship is pretty different from many of the folks quoted and paraphrased in the Washington Post article, above. (And of course different people have different perspectives, so duly noted. But that lack of consensus sure makes it hard for a would-be ally to know what to do!) I'm talking specifically about that last section, "What I Want from You Already" (pp224-239). What are some of her suggestions?

• work to change your own community
• work to change the census so categories are more inclusive
• turn guilt into action
• stop getting mad when people ask questions (she's specifically talking to "immigrants, minorities, and 'Third Things'"--her term--here)
• let the media and Hollywood know that you aren't on board with racist portrayals, reporting, or just-plain-ignoring of nonwhite and/or non-Native-English-speaking groups
• use the "T-word" (terrorism) appropriately--not exclusively for terrorist acts performed by Muslims, but for all "ideologically motivated attack[s] on a civilian target." (233)
• create stuff: this is pretty catch-all, but I love her idea for a "Exchange Your Confederate Flag-Themed Accessories for Cupcakes" booth (234-235).
• get to know folks from other communities: her examples are immigrants from different places, religions, and backgrounds, but obviously generalize-able beyond that.

I guess that's really just a long way around of saying, yes, it's complicated to figure out how to get involved, but maybe we can all think about it and find some ways, even little ways, to make things better for our neighbors who may not have the same benefits and privileges that we have, due to long-standing structures of racism. (And also that I read a surprising number of books written by comedians.)

A few concrete ideas that I found and liked:

• 5 questions every citizen should ask about police accountability
• Supporting Black-led Racial Justice Organizations
• Participate in the world done by Campaign Zero (and I'm sure there are dozens, if not hundreds, of similar excellent programs--this is just the first one I've become aware of)
• How and Why You Should Record the Police

And finally, I just want to say that I don't understand people who speak ill of "political correctness." Seems to me that political correctness means "thinking about the feelings of other people" and "recognizing that other people have other opinions and aren't exactly like you." When I was growing up, that was not a radical notion: that was what good and polite (and, dare I say it, "Christian") people did.