Not long ago, someone suggested that it was unfortunate, and kind of weird, that a program I’m participating in to explore death and dying, culture, family, place, history, tradition (and the loss of it)……has mostly white people enrolled.
It’s not the first time, or the only area in my life, where the people attending and participating appear to look a lot like me. Which is white. (And we could question this, about what color/race is, and if it’s who you actually are.)
In meditation retreats of 500 participants I’ve attended, there’s a small handful of people who are other colors than white. At the School for The Work there was 98% white people. In a career training program I was in 8 years ago, all 15 participants, and all the trainers were….white.
Now, there’s absolutely nothing “wrong” with this, of course.
Until.
Someone has a tone of voice or a statement or observation that sounds troubled, critical, worried.
Why are so many of you…..white? Aren’t you all privileged?
Ow. Yikes. Ugh.
What happens when you think you’re guilty, or you shouldn’t be complaining, or something’s wrong because….you’re white, or another race, or you’re male, or you’re from “x” country, or you do “y” job?
Oooh. I almost forgot. Shoot.
I shouldn’t complain or be disturbed. There are so many other people far worse off than me. Why am I even enrolling in meditation retreats or educational programs or doing The Work? My ancestors had all the perks. Right? I have opportunities other people don’t have.
Other people don’t have the time, or fortitude, or resources, to attend retreats or educate themselves about the mind, or study, or “relax”.
This is a very deeply stressful and dividing story.
That what you are….is based on false beliefs, ignorance, privilege….and others are worse off than you. That what you are is your appearance. You’ve got it pretty good, by comparison. You think you have it bad? Check out those Other People (and quit complaining, while you’re at it)!
They are suffering, you’re better off.
Is that true?
It hurts when your answer is “yes”.
They Are Suffering!!!!
Can you absolutely know it’s true, that your story is easier, better, more privileged than other peoples’ story? That you doing The Work is an elevated position? That your enrollment in “x” program is smoother than for others of different races or backgrounds?
That they are suffering, and you aren’t (by comparison)?
OK. It seems like, based on comparison, the answer is “yes”. It’s true I have had it easier historically compared to other stories I’ve encountered. Or my ancestors have.
But what if you had no problem with the observation that most of the people in your circles in “x” program look like you? What if you didn’t have stress about this unplanned “segregation”?
How do you react when you believe you’ve had perks?
I believe there’s something wrong. Guilty. Ashamed. Worried about complaining. Dismissive of my own suffering.
I’m suddenly taken back to elementary fifth grade, middle school, high school. Whites are the minority at school, not the majority like the city population or the immediate neighborhood I live in. I get called names sometimes, and the names include my race. I’m from the group who is doing it wrong. I’m not that cool. My boyfriend breaks up with me to go out with a girl who isn’t….white. It’s better to be Not White. Obviously.
This is an old, painful thought. What I am, “my” people, are the perpetrators. The ugly ones. The uncool.
The leader/author/teacher of the program I was participating in, where someone asked about why almost everyone was white was completely undisturbed with the question when it came up, hanging in the air in the hall where we all sat for our lectures and contemplation and note-taking.
He answered, without a blink of an eye, not very bothered.
“Because the people who are here need this program, apparently, and many others who are not white, don’t. Not right now. That’s the reality.”
Oh. duh. OK.
By comparison, I may have a privileged background. But I do not know my background shouldn’t be as it is. I don’t know that I shouldn’t be enrolled in the programs I’ve been enrolled in. I don’t know I shouldn’t be practicing meditation, The Work, or studying the way I do.
Who would I be without this story that I’m white and I should/shouldn’t….(fill in the blank)?
Without the belief that what I look like means “x” and I should feel “y” I notice….I have absolutely no idea what or who I am.
I watch my mind contort. I notice I’m interested in what’s familiar and unfamiliar. Right and wrong. Good and bad. That’s the way of the mind. Up and down. In and out.
My mental process naturally moves to find solutions, rest, safety. I have no idea what’s really true, or what’s going on.
Just like everyone else’s mind.
I turn the stories around:
a) They are not suffering, I am suffering, b) everyone and anyone can question their stories–it doesn’t matter your age, history, family, race, origin, c) there is no “genuine” suffering or “ultimate” better off….not for anyone, d) this thinking about suffering, brings suffering
Every one of these has been just as true or truer.
How could it be a good and natural thing that all these white people (again, me included) are enrolled in this program, or reading that book, or at this function or event, or doing The Work?
Well, perhaps we are all helping to address imbalance, war, fighting, separation and identity….and losing it. Maybe we’re in a training preparation for awareness, clarity, vision, and letting go of shame. We’re drawn to something truthful, and we have the means to enroll ourselves and get involved. Maybe we’re concerned, and taking action.
What if it has nothing to do with being white, and everything to do with being white?
Right on time. Perfectly on schedule.
What would you be without your story?
Can you do your work, no matter what race, or gender, or orientation or preferences you have?
I notice when I feel included, and not so afraid, and loving, and willing, and open, and when I question my stressful thoughts…..
…..I connect. I am not a color, I am not a body, I don’t have a gender, I’m not my name, I’m not an age. This thing called “I” is rather undefined and moving. Just like my life, which is very temporary and will be over at some point, perhaps not so long from now.
Without my beliefs about race, I follow what the Buddhists call Right Action.
Something’s alive and on fire and living love, and passion and care for what’s around me. Everyone’s included here. This means all the people I ever put into their own “special” category like the 1% or the 99%, or those who voted that way, or junk-food eaters or pop-drinkers or drug users or liars or patriarchs or hypocrites or men or women or bullies or fundamentalists…..and me. I am also included here, as someone I care about very much.
What would I be without my story of prejudice?
Good question.
Fearless. Kind. Connected. Radical. Gentle. Curious.
Looking forward to seeing what happens.
“There are no differences in our true nature.” ~ Byron Katie
Much love,
Grace
P.S. A beautiful example of inquiry on racism is right here. No matter what race you are, question your thoughts about it.