Taking a Deeper Breath

When I pivoted from a mental health focus to this current version of my blog, I said that I would address ways to build community solidarity as well as challenge systemic racism and White privilege. Here's an important -- and urgent -- task for today that focuses upon both upending racist systems and enhancing community solidarity: write to and/or call your Senators to urge passage of a bill to extend Pandemic Unemployment Assistance (the $600 in additional unemployment benefits) and related legislation.  Visit Extend PUA for resources, information, sample letters and call scripts, talking points, and much more. ExtendPUA.org is an all volunteer organization that was started by two unemployed members of the  entertainment industry; it works in solidarity with Unemployment Action, a Facebook public group. You can find ExtendPUA's mission here. We know that this pandemic has disproportionately affected our Black siblings, who are becoming infected at rates that far exceed ...

Like many of you, perhaps, I have been having some hard conversations lately. The most difficult have been with my White family and friends. Invariably, we reach a stumbling block when I acknowledge my own racism. "Speak for yourself," I've heard more than once. "I'm not a racist." Speak for yourself. That's good advice for all of us. And a good reminder that we cannot ask others to speak for anyone but themselves. That's one of the many things we can do to make hard conversations more productive (see June 17 post for more suggestions). But "I'm not a racist" is a statement that I cannot let stand unchallenged. I can understand why acknowledging personal racism would be threatening for those who believe that only bad people are racists. I don't know if I have actually changed any minds about that conviction. I do hope that I have caused folks to at least reconsider the belief that they cannot be racist because they are good peop...

On this very different July 4th, there is much we can read or watch that will inform and broaden our view of the nation's Independence Day. We could start with the Preamble to the Constitution: "We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America."  In that context, and against the backdrop of COVID-19 and continuing systemic racism, the words of Frederick Douglass' July 5, 1852 speech, commonly referred to as "What to the Slave is the Fourth of July?," take on added poignancy 168 years after they were delivered. You can read the entire speech here , or watch this powerful reading of excerpts from it by direct descendants of Douglass. Be sure to watch the entire seven minute vi...

When I started these messages, my goal was to help others cope with the pandemic. From mid-March through May, my daily posts were designed to offer a break from the bad news and tools for staying grounded and centered during a traumatizing time. One of them is self-care, which includes rest and getting good sleep. These were privileged posts, written from the perspective of one who is navigating the pandemic in a White body. Here's another take on rest. In addition to COVID-19, we are grappling -- again -- with the legacy of trauma and the ongoing agony caused by over 400 years of White supremacy. And in the context of a pandemic that disproportionately affects them, we are finally starting to pay attention to the impacts of trauma and chronic stress upon our B lack siblings. For those who live with these injuries, self care and rest can be an act of resistance as well as a means to healing. "Our legacy is a legacy of exhaustion," says Tricia Hersey, a performance art...

When I began this series of messages back in mid-March, I gave myself a break from the work of creating new content each day by using others' material on the weekends. I called these e-mails (later, posts), "Weekend Editions." I haven't done one since I shifted from a daily blog to an occasional one, but I am delighted to be sharing this gift again. Alonzo King LINES Ballet is a San Francisco company that, although it is in its 35th year, is new to me. I read that King has spent his career exploring the connections between dance and nature. In this time of the COVID-19 pandemic and our (I hope, transformative) reckoning with systemic and structural racism, his work and his words are both a balm and a challenge.  Here are two videos from his distanced series, "There Is No Standing Still." [Note: These are best viewed on a tablet or laptop, rather than the small screen on a phone.] Before you watch them, I encourage you to take a deep, cleansing breath, an...

"If you have to ask if you are a racist, you are. And if you are not asking if you are a racist, you are." So says Angela Bell, an assistant professor of psychology at Lafayette College in Pennsylvania. The point is that we cannot avoid being racist; it's in our culture and in our bones.  As individuals, we can be racist even if that is not our intention. We can even be racist even when we are affirmatively trying not to do so. We can be a committed anti-racist and still have occasional racist thoughts or feelings, or engage in racist behaviors. The sense of "Otherness" runs deep in us.  As I mentioned in my last post, the question isn't whether we are racist, but whether we feed and nurture our racism or we push back against it. I think of it like an addiction: we may not be able to erase it entirely, but we can be in conscious recovery for the rest of our life. And on the individual level, we who are White must be recovering racists if we are ever to ...

We know that pushing back against racism and the White supremacy it promotes is a life-long challenge, and that overcoming it entirely could take generations. But we also know this: it is up to Whites to make it happen. And if we are ever to make a meaningful start on that effort, we must understand the myth behind it and be able to give up our defensiveness around it. Historians and sociologists tell us that "race" itself is a myth, and that "Whiteness" is a social construct . The first European colonists who came to North America did not think of themselves as members of the white race. Or any race. Skin color was not a part of their self identity prior to their arrival here. It was not until the late 1600s, when poor black and white people freed from indentured service began to rise up together in revolts against wealthy European plantation owners, that "Whiteness" was invented. Why? To help these wealthy landowners hold onto their power. One o...

Tomorrow, Friday, is Juneteenth 2020. It was bound to be a different celebration this year because of the pandemic. But there will be other changes this year, too. Without a doubt, there's more general awareness of the holiday than ever before. Here where I live, this is the first year that it will be an annual paid holiday for Multnomah County, as well as for Nike employees. It will also be a paid holiday for the City of Portland. More Whites than ever will be observing the occasion. In my home, we will be streaming "Juneteenth 2020: And Still We Rise," a live webinar of the United Church of Christ featuring moments of remembrance, education, celebration, and calls to action, then joining friends and neighbors to participate in a vigil in Multnomah Village on Friday afternoon. Elsewhere, Lake Oswego and Eugene are among many other Oregon cities planning special events to mark the official end of slavery in the United States. On Saturday, Juneteenth Oregon will...

For those of us who live in White bodies and want to make a difference around racism, one of the most important things we can do is have intentional conversations with other Whites about our racist culture and White privilege. And those conversations can be hard. A friend recently shared an e-mail chain from her workplace. She and her colleagues were discussing a proposal to change the practices of the security guards at her work site. A group of Black employees had made the request, and one of her White colleagues had sent a group e-mail to a number of White employees urging them to join together in supporting it.  The first person who answered the group message rejected the request; another person chimed in to agree. Then there were a couple of e-mails supporting the idea. One of these accused the first writer of not being honest about their racism. And then things turned ugly.  The first writer responded with cursing and accusations, and demanded an immediate apology....

"Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced."                                                              ~James Baldwin This country was built upon White supremacy, the notion that Whites are superior to people of color, especially Blacks, and are therefore entitled to dominate them. The White men who founded our nation believed themselves entitled to power and privilege over the Native peoples they found here and the Blacks they brought here as chattel starting in 1619. That is our shameful history as Americans, and the trauma of that legacy permeates our bodies today. No matter what we think now, we cannot wish or explain it away. We have...

One of the saddest things I've heard about George Floyd's murder is that he narrated his own death. Yes; he did. It would be gut wrenching under any circumstances, and it's especially agonizing because he lived a Black life in our White-privileged culture. We listened when he narrated his death. But who listened when he narrated his life? Who in the White community has really been listening to the Black voices among us, to those who have tried to tell us their story? Systemic racism and White privilege have been with us for over 400 years. Protests and demonstrations against them are not new. This time feels different, though, in its breadth and, I pray, in its depth. And one way that it differs is that we have more tools now to hear voices other than our own. More ways for those of us who are non-Black to hear black voices. More opportunities for us to do what we must do: stop talking over the Black voices, and listen and learn. One of those voices belongs to Emmanual ...

It's not lost on me that the very title of this blog, "Taking a Deeper Breath," is a privileged stance. In my White body, I can reasonably aspire to breathe more deeply. Deeper breathing is a valuable tool for lowering anxiety, boosting mood and immunity, and building resilience. I did not think about that as a privileged option when I chose the title back in March.  Now I cannot ignore the reality: Black bodies cannot breathe more deeply when they are carrying the legacy of 401 years of slavery on their shoulders, including disproportionately higher rates of illness and death from COVID-19. Black bodies would struggle to breathe more deeply when they have to carry the trauma of past brutality and the legitimate fear of violence at any time. How could Black bodies breathe more deeply with a White knee on their neck? At best, it would be almost impossible to breathe at all. Fear and anxiety make it harder for any body to breathe. That Black bodies in this country must ...