fluke1 [flook] noun 3. either half of the triangular tail of a whale.
During a training I recently attended, I sat soberly listening, as a colleague described in vivid detail what it's like to face so many encounters of racism on a daily basis, that most days, he loses count. He went on to explain that he really started noticing this when he hit puberty. His voice deepened, shoulders broadened, and he went from a cute little boy to a black man. From that moment on his days became an exercise in dodging the never ending hostilities of fear and hate. I’ve read about racism, I’ve witnessed racism, I’ve stood up against racism and yet this time I truly reflected on the impact of being treated as a criminal, a second-class citizen, and as a savage not just once in a while, but every day, all day, year after year. My colleague talked about how numb he’d grown over the years, as though his body intuitively went into self preservation. It wasn’t until he was given the opportunity to speak his truth, that it seemed like he allowed himself to acknowledge how much pain he stuffs away just to make it through his days.
I haven’t been able to stop thinking about this small glimpse into his reality because it reminds me how much I don’t know.
Not long after, I sat with a parent who shared with me she’d been ordered to be deported. Days before Christmas she will get a final decision from the court of appeals. In the meantime, as the moments of each day slip away, her 3 children come closer to the possibility they will lose their mother because she was born on the wrong side of a river. Before I spoke with her I only knew her son as a sweet, light hearted, kind, thoughtful boy, who always wears a smile. Already at such a young age, he’s learned to wear a mask.
On a daily basis we float around like whales swimming in the depths of the ocean, occasionally lifting our tails above the surface just enough to be seen. But the truth is, who we are as beings, the weight of what we carry in this world remains hidden. It can be easy to forget how much we don’t know about others, and instead get lost in the small details we see....judging others for being “angry assholes,” or assuming a smile means someone isn’t in pain.
I am fortunate, or maybe the more appropriate word is privileged, my smile almost always means I am truly happy. I can choose to indulge in my privilege and exist in a world where I don’t have to think about the color of my skin or my citizenship status, but that isn’t the kind of person I want to be. Instead, I work hard to think about inequities every day because there are people who have no other choice. I do my best to move slowly and take time to be curious. It is only when we are brave enough to ask, will we get closer to understanding.
