Silence is having blood on your hands…It is time White People

Posted on by serenitisparkles

For my entire life thus far, I have watched as some of the people I cared for most in this world being tormented by a system built to oppress them. Through the years I have seen what the simple color of my skin meant to my experience in this world and more specifically this country. The shame I have, to see others that look like me and that hold the same privilege sit in silence. The pain I’ve felt watching my friends and family members be treated as less than or overlooked despite their clear capabilities. The sickness I feel every time I see the outright mistreatment by law enforcement.

Let me be clear when I say, you may love your neighbor no matter the color of their skin, but if you do not speak truth to power, then you too have blood on your hands. How many times do we have to see the blatant disrespect and disregard for human lives? How many times do we have to watch the difference in being black in America vs white in America to know we must not be silent? I’ve written hundreds of articles, praying they reach someone else that needs to hear these words. I’ve listened to my friends and family of color so that I can be better in the fight against racism.

This is getting to the point that it is NO LONGER acceptable for you to just love thy neighbor, you must also be willing to fight for thy neighbor. Imagine a world where every time you walked out into the public, you had to fear that you would be in harm’s way or treated as less than. Imagine that you were treated this way every single day of your life, not because you deserved it, but because of the pigment of your skin. It may not be you that engages in racism or hate. It may not be you that assists in the breakdown of another human’s rights. But it is because of you and your silence that we have witnessed a rise in racism. It is because of that silence that white supremacists marched on the capital as if they would have no repercussions and not be held accountable for such hate.

I am going to keep writing and keep telling white people what they need to hear. I am going to keep speaking up against the most dangerous type of hate that exists in America. The mentality that you or I are better because of the color of our skin is a fallacy and one we are responsible for deconstructing. If you choose to not speak up against what is happening with racism in America, then you my friend, have blood on your hands. PERIOD.

Living on the “White” side of things

Posted on by serenitisparkles

No, I did not say living on the “right” side or that white had any other influence in my soul than the color of skin I was given.   Colors mean something because we have allowed them to separate us.   Groups, placed by the few powerful, to separate all of us from our greatest strength, ALL OF US.

My daughter inspired me to write this because she has been affected by this “group” she is associated with.  She is a half white, half Colombian little person just beginning to understand the barriers society has placed on us.

She came to me the other day and said, “Mommy, the worst thing anyone ever said to me was, white girl white girl white girl.”  She said it wasn’t because of what they said but how they said it.  The girls taunting her were young black girls in our neighborhood.

We lived in a neighborhood where she was the only white girl.  She and I believe in rich culture.  Money didn’t define us,  our relationships did.  We were poor, but making it through.  Like everyone else in the neighborhood.  We understood what it felt like to go with bread and eggs in our refrigerator because her father was not providing financial support.  We understood what it felt like to have to do laundry and walk a mile to get to the laundry mat just to save money on washing clothes.  But in the eyes of our peers, we were White.   My daughter looked up to those girls.  They were a part of her home.

I grew up, up north, in Rhode Island where everyone was blended and the beauty of mixing cultures was ever so prevalent.  My best friends were triplets mixed with Native American, Black, and White.  I moved to the south at 16 years old to live with my mother as my father had gone to federal prison.  I moved to a southern town, dated in its appearance to the time before the south had lost.  Every culture was there, yet separate.  Every cafeteria table was a different “group”.  I wasn’t raised to see the differences.  I was taught to embrace the similarities.

At that time, 16 years old, I was also poor and my mother was sick.  I didn’t want to live there, I didn’t want to go to that school.  I didn’t want to be “grouped” with others because of what they believed I represent.  I let music decide what I would do next.

I was very much into Hip Hop as I was a beat away from NYC where it was flourishing.  When I got to the south, I began to hear the sound of Trap Music and Caribbean vibes and fell in love.

From that moment on, I would stand in the culture and break the stereotype.  I would teach my daughter to learn people from the inside out.  Celebrate the beautiful differences and though many will only see you as the color of your skin, remember that we are more alike.  Not understanding each other is one thing, leading with blind prejudice is another.  Whether you are black, white, asian, or any other race, we shouldn’t judge each other by the one thing in life that we didn’t choose; the color of our skin.