Our BLM…
Coming to terms
As I walked with my aunt Linda and long-time friend, Megan, during the protests in Manhattan and Hermosa Beach on Tuesday, I looked at my aunt and said, “I think this week’s blog topic needs to change,” and without hesitation or even looking up she said, “Yup, yup it does.” The past 10 days since the tragic passing of George Floyd on May 25th, have been a whirlwind of emotions and a time of deep reflection on my life and my experiences with racism. I thought about what I wanted to write in this post, what I wanted to make it about and what I wanted to relay to my audience using this platform. And then it hit me, most of you who read this are either athletes I coach, friends of mine, or family members, and I want to tell my story about encounters with racism. I want to talk about something that I keep close to my chest. For everyone who is out there and reading this, you need to understand where I grew up and the environments I have been in for most of my life. And I say you need to understand because for most of you, you claim it doesn’t happen where you’re from. You claim you have never seen it, been involved in it and even that it doesn’t affect you. But unfortunately, you are wrong. So bear with me as I explain a little bit of my background...
I grew up in Manhattan Beach, CA, a small beach town just south of LAX. My family home is right on the beach, it's my house, The Strand, the bike path, the sand then the ocean. Basically, nothing separates me from one of my favorite places on Earth. My dad is a black actor and my mom is white and Jewish. Both of my parents grew up in Beverly Hills and have lived in Southern California for pretty much their entire lives. My parents are still together to this day and I never really saw them fight as a kid. I didn’t live a life of struggle — far from it actually. I never wondered where my next meal would come from, I always had rides to school and practices, I was not worried whether the bills were paid or if my cell phone would be turned off. I never thought twice about walking around my neighborhood or feared for my safety or that of my brother’s. No one in my immediate family struggled with addiction or alcohol abuse. I had an amazing relationship with our campus cop in high school and still keep in contact with him to this day (shout out Officer Steve, you’re the greatest). I would say that my life was pretty amazing, regardless of what race you are. I say all of this because people like to believe that the only blacks who really struggle with racism are the ones that come from broken homes, have parents or family members that struggle with abuse or have been in jail, or come from low income neighborhoods and again, that just isn’t true.
Racism through the years
Despite how I grew up or how well-known my family was, I still encountered racism and prejudice. Growing up people thought that I lived a life of privilege that was devoid of any pain but really, my pain was deep and suppressed because that’s what society made me feel was the right way. Being a black, Jewish girl in Manhattan Beach wasn’t the easiest. I was called a monkey a few times by classmates over the years. I was made fun of for my hair and my eyebrows often, because they were different from everyone else’s. I didn’t view myself as pretty until I got to college. I rarely ever had a doll that looked like me to play with, let alone friends that looked like me to play with. I have been asked many times, “Do you even need to wear sunscreen?”, “How come you don’t really dance or have great rhythm?”, “How come you can’t jump that high?” And those are the most mellow things to happen. Even to this day, I have people in my life that invite me to things because I am black. That is not a joke and it happened only last year. I get told often, “I have black friends. Look, you’re black and you’re my friend.” Welp, not really anymore. One of the things that gets said to me time and time again is, “Yeah, but you’re not really black because you're mixed.” What is that? What does that even mean? The list unfortunately goes on and on. And although some people will look at these minimal examples and say, “Well, that’s not as bad as some people have it,” that is not the point. It shouldn’t have to be as bad as someone else for it to matter or for people to make a change. The level of racism is irrelevant. Racism is racism no matter how you dice it.
During the last few days, I have been talking to quite a few people that had the same type of upbringing I did, in similar areas around Southern California and across the country. Like me, racism was so normal for most of them but not happening to anyone around them on a daily basis — or as far as all of us could see. We didn’t want to be even more different from friends we were already struggling to fit in with. We didn’t believe that what we were experiencing compared to what those “out in the world” were experiencing. We didn’t think we had any room to complain as we were living in small beach towns spread across the west coast and wealthy areas around the country. But through conversations with them, I realized that it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter that the magnitude of what we experienced wasn’t close to others throughout the country. It doesn’t matter where we are from or what sport we played or that we thought it was normal. It is wrong. No person should be mistreated because of the color of their skin, ever. This has been happening for 400 years and there has not been enough change in our country.
Where do we go from here?
The purpose of this isn’t to point fingers or blame anyone for not doing as much as they should have in the past. In all honesty, I think that is why so many people are taking action now. My peers that I have talked to have always stood up and said that what was happening was wrong when we would see someone on T.V. being mistreated. We would post on Instagram and say we wanted justice. But this time is different. We are all realizing — my generation of black people included — that we have not done enough. That silence is NOT OKAY. If you are choosing to be silent in this matter, it makes all of us in the black community think you don’t stand with us in our pursuit of equality and an end to systemic racism. Your excuse of, “I don’t want to get into politics,” is flat out BS.
Imagine raising your young son in Del Mar, CA, and being afraid that he will get stopped by the cops just because he’s white. Being afraid that if your husband, brother, grandson, child, goes for a run, they may not make it back, just because of the color of their skin. It is not enough anymore for you to say to one of us, “You know I support you and will always be here for you.” Stop worrying about followers and how others will view you. If you know it’s wrong, say it’s wrong. Because those of us who have ALWAYS been there for you, who have always had your back, who have dealt with racism, sexism and inequality for our entire life, are tired of fighting this alone. As my dad said Tuesday, as he spoke in front of hundreds at a protest in our town, “It’s not your fault, but it is your responsibility.” It’s your responsibility to educate yourself, to learn more than what was taught in your history books; it’s not mine. It is your responsibility to take action and help make a change for the future and for your kids — not mine! Your privilege is standing in the way of making a real dent in our society. Your privilege to turn off the T.V., to not deal with it, to just post a black square on one day of the week and then resume your regular schedule, is selfish. I read something today that said, “It’s a privilege to educate yourself about racism instead of experiencing it.” I couldn’t have said it better myself. Check your privilege.
Stand up for what you believe in and for those in your life that are struggling. For those of you who look at me as a strong, confident person, I want you all to know that I am struggling. I am struggling to understand the relationships in my life that I thought were ironclad and now I am unsure if those people really do support all of who I am or if they just support what I do for them. I am struggling to know if I get accolades and am recognized because I am really good at what I do or if people just think, “Wow, for a black woman, she’s doing a great job.” At this time of my life I am questioning just about everything and I know that there are many around me feeling the same way. A sense of disappointment, anger and sadness towards the people in our lives that we would go to the ends of the Earth for. So whatever your way of standing up for others is, do it and do it now because we don’t have time to wait around anymore. Our country is broken right now and it is up to ALL of us to make a difference.
Resources
I have listed some resources below where you can donate, sign petitions and help educate. There are a million out there so do not limit yourself to just these. If you have any questions or want to know more about my experiences, please feel free to reach out via the social media or email links at the top of each page.
#blacklivesmatter
https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/
