Today’s post is a brain dump toward my next book—a work in progress.
One day, while walking to my neighborhood Starbucks, I happened to pass a man walking his dog. He resembled the stereotypical “Chic-kah-go” guy from the SNL “da Bears” skit featuring George Wendt and the late Chris Farley. As he walked, I was able to overhear his end of the conversation in snippets:
“Yeah, well it ends in September and then they’ll have to go back to work.”
… “Right? Lazy bums.”
…”That’s what I think. They need to quit whining and get back to work. All they’re doing is showing the world how lazy Americans are.”
I gave him a wide berth as I passed him, wondering if this man had any form of insurance. Why? In addition to the fact that COVID-19 pandemic financially ravaged the global economy, in particular, monetary losses fell heaviest on the working poor. And of the working poor, Black and Latino populations got hit with a double whammy: both crippling financial stresses and disproportionate infection and death rates.
While I am no economist, I view the stimulus packages as a form of insurance: by paying people to stay home, we’re able to limit the number of potential host bodies for the deadliest virus we’ve seen in generations. We’re insuring our survival as a species by investing in each other to keep us all safe.
As I continued to walk, I thought about what his life might be like. As a presumably heterosexual white man, he experiences life much differently than I do. We live in a world where the majority of institutions and norms are biased in favor of white, heteronormative men. In so saying, I know as a white woman, I also posses what I refer to as the White Skin Force Field package, assigned to me at birth. By way of analogy, consider the Fish in Water parable:
“Two young fish are swimming along when they happen to meet an older fish swimming toward them. He nods at them and says, ‘Morning, boys. …How’s the water?’ The two young fish swim on for a bit. Eventually one of them looks over at the other and says, ‘What the hell is water?’“ — David Foster Wallace
In a similar fashion, I “swim” in the ocean of white primacy. My awareness of other people’s experience is limited by the lens of my own life.
Have I had some crappy things happen for me? Yes. Have I experienced adversity? Of course. My story as a former single mother on welfare who went on to establish a nonprofit, write a book, while overcoming a number of hurdles is certainly significant. I also can personally attest to biases I experienced due to my gender. I’ve had bosses run their hands up my skirt. I know what it’s like for people to underestimate me because I look young, or I have a good figure.
I’ve been called baby, sugar, honey, darlin’, and a bitch. And that’s to my face. I can’t imagine what some people refer to me as behind my back. For what it’s worth, what other people think of me is none of my business.
People make assumptions about each other every day. But in all of my experiences, I’ve still had the benefit of having white skin. I have never (and will never) know an existence apart from this one.
My point in all these ramblings? Resilience is always possible. I believe the tensile strength of the human soul is pretty elastic. But not everyone begins from the same baseline. Furthermore, some of us experience a daily, relentless assault on our body and spirit that makes it more difficult to overcome every day stressors, let alone major life disruptions.
Today as you swim about your fishbowl, take a moment to notice and appreciate the experiences of people who don’t share your advantages. I’d also encourage you to help pave the way for someone else who would benefit from an opportunity to expand their world.
We’re all in this together.
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