A Sounding Board editorial: Questions for white Americans

“Every white person in this country — I do not care what he says or what she says — knows one thing ... They know that they would not like to be black here. If they know that, they know everything they need to know.”

— James Baldwin, poet, playwright, novelist and social critic, in a “Speech at the University of California Berkeley,” 1979

The fact that this was written in 1979 and it is still true is a sad commentary on our society. How can we make a dent? How can we make a difference?

First, we white people have to start becoming uncomfortable with the way things are, even though we benefit so clearly from the status quo.

I invite you to join me and sit with the discomfort of Amy Cooper. She called the police and lied about a black man, with the full understanding that her lie would be believed before his truth, the full understanding that her race would be an advantage and his a disadvantage as she preyed on fear of black people, hoping to do so with the complicity of the police.

Sit with the discomfort of Trayvon Martin, who walked through a wealthier neighborhood on his way to buy Skittles when a resident noticed he “didn't belong,” confronted him and shot him to death, and was exonerated by claiming self-defense.

Sit with the discomfort of Ahmaud Arbery, an innocent black man out for a jog who was killed by white men who knew they could get away with it by claiming they were threatened.

Sit with the discomfort of George Floyd and watch a police officer calmly kneeling on this helpless black man's neck.

Sit with the discomfort of seeing the video in which Omar Jiminez, a black Latino news reporter covering the protests in Minneapolis was shouted down and arrested while his white colleague who was doing the same things in the same neighborhood was treated politely and allowed to do his job.

Sit with the discomfort of knowing that white families like mine don't need to teach our children how to respond if they get pulled over for a traffic ticket so that they have a greater chance of coming home alive.

Then let's start asking ourselves questions:

Whose behavior do we understand more completely: white people who fear blacks, or blacks who fear for their lives?

In what ways has being white made our lives easier?

How many times have we heard racist terms, both the blatant ones and the subtle ones like “those people,” “that neighborhood,” “the way ‘they' are?” (One clue about whether it might be a racist comment: Would it be said in a group in which a black person was standing there with us?)

How many times have we called out the person saying those racist comments?

How many times have you called yourself out for racist comments and beliefs?

Do we really believe that black people matter as much as white people, that their children are just as special, smart and talented as ours, and just as deserving?

In what ways have we started out in life with fewer obstacles, especially in housing location, educational quality, available employment and social support?

Then let's admit our ignorance and do something about it.

Let's learn the history of black people in this country — the slavery, lynchings, voter suppression, marginalization in ghettos and all that makes our world and society the way it is now.

And let's imagine ourselves in that history, judged, enslaved, tortured, killed and marginalized because of our skin color.

Let's listen to the voices of black people around us and walk with them.

Let's write to our clergy and ask that sermons be addressed to the sin of racism, upholding the dignity and value of each person in our diverse world.

Write to congressional representatives and work for laws that value the contributions, intelligence, hard work and character of black and brown people. Ensure voting policies that not only don't exclude people of color but make it easier for them to vote.

Finally, let's have the courage to confront and correct our own language and that of our family members, co-workers and friends.

Don't make excuses like “Oh, it's just a joke” or “Yeah, my uncle says pretty racist things but deep down he's a good person.”

Be willing to make waves, to be disliked by some. Take a risk. Hone your own integrity. Make a stand for what is right.

Can we do these things? Until white people stand up and call out racism among white people, until white people let go of the privilege their skin color brings to them and denies to others, until white people decide things have to change, it will not end.

Join me. Let's be agents of change.

• Amy Florian, of Hoffman Estates, is CEO of Corgenius, a professional training organization that helps companies and individuals deal with grief and life transitions. She is a member of the Daily Herald Editorial Board's advisory Sounding Board.