Reflect before apologizing to your Black friends.
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It's Wednesday!
Our emails for the past week or so have been focused on structural racism: how public policies and institutional racism perpetuate racism in our society. But as we dive into those topics (and there are SO many more) it's also important to remember that racism exists on an interpersonal level, too, and upheld and perpetuated by how we treat one another.
As this lovely community has grown, a frequently asked question is how to have conversations around current events, or apologize for past harm, with friends who identify as Black. Although I can't speak for all Black people or the specific circumstances of your relationship, I can offer resources to contextualize how you approach this conversation. This is an updated version of an earlier newsletter from 6.8, which analyzed it only from a work lens.
Thank you to everyone that's financially contributing to make this possible – and ensuring this can always be free for those that aren't able. Consider investing one-time on Paypal or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza) or monthly for this community to grow.
Nicole
TAKE ACTION
If you identify as non-Black:
Reflect and respond to these questions below before you reach out to a Black friend / colleague:
What prompted me to reach out to this person?
What do I know about this person's emotional state right now?
What assumptions am I making?*
What burden am I putting on this friend I care about?*
Would I normally ask this question?*
Did I, say, wish this person a happy birthday?*
What would I do if they really aren’t okay?*
*These prompts are from Priska Neely's article Please Stop ‘Checking In to See If I’m Okay in The Cut.
If you identify as Black:
A kind reminder that you have no obligation to respond or engage with any harmful messages in your inbox right now.
GET EDUCATED
Over the past month, Black people have been bombarded with texts, calls, IG messages, emails, Slack messages, etc with apologies from white people (and other non-white POC) – apologies for the police brutality, for the collective awakening in society, and for past microaggressions or more overt forms of racism.
Part of this is sparked by the apology train unfolding in our news. We've watched celebrities apologize for insensitive content in the past, like Jimmy Fallon (NYTimes) and Youtube personality Jenna Marbles (Forbes). White actors are stepping down from voicing Black characters on animated series (Glamour). It feels like every day there is a new, public, grand apology posted on Instagram or in a series of tweets coming across my newsfeed.
These public apologies make sense for celebrities with influence. They shine a public light on public examples of past harm. But when we look at apologizing or reaching out on an interpersonal level, I'm not sure the same rules apply. Acknowledging pain or harm in an interpersonal relationship is much more nuanced. And to fully understand it, we need to understand intent vs. impact, a concept critical to social justice work.
Unpacking intent vs. impact is a practice of decoupling our words and actions from how they impact other people. Oftentimes when addressing race, our words and actions don't land the way we intend, especially in times of deep emotional pain and trauma. And regardless of what we think we're doing, there's still harm in what we do. Or, as Rebekah aptly said in a blog post from January 2018, "if I punch you in the face on accident—you still got punched in the face". Although we can never be fully responsible for how someone responds, we need to get critical on how our impact can cause harm to people – especially when they are already in pain, and our intention is to acknowledge that pain without causing more. Watch this 2:30m video by Diverse City by Dr. Cheryl Ingram on the importance of intent vs. impact in diversity, equity and inclusion (Youtube).
Many people when causing harm tend to attach themselves to the intent side of the narrative. "I didn't mean to" is a common refrain. But that doesn't get us anywhere; acknowledging the impact is far more important. Let's circle back to our celebrity apologies, many acknowledge this in their own posts. Many use language like "although I didn't mean to, I realize now that my actions were harmful". It's as if, even in the apology itself, there has to be some semblance of innocence. And that can often get in the way of accountability. Stop holding onto your innocence so you can carry your culpability – otherwise, you're forcing a Black person to do it for you.
Today's action should help you do move from intention to impact, first by getting clear on what your actual intention is for reaching out. Are you actively willing and able to support your Black colleagues? Or, are you instead looking alleviate some guilt that you're feeling with the weight of this moment? Remember that it's not fair to alleviate your own guilt about current events and your own relationship with this work by reaching out to a Black person. If that's your intention, you might want to consider how to take care of that outside your relationship.
The second is to understand what the impact of your outreach will be. Does your outreach add burden, or feel disingenuous? Does it directly benefit the Black person you're reaching out to? If you're checking in to see if someone is okay, are you in a position to actually support this person with their feelings? And if you're apologizing for past transgressions, how committed are you to continuing to learn and unlearn what brought that harm to begin with? I have a feeling you're committed if you're reading this newsletter! But important to note nonetheless.
And consider how your privilege may muddle the impact of your intent. When prompting a conversation with colleagues at work, note: are you their direct report, or in a higher role than them? Consequently, are you placing them in a space where they may feel forced to respond? Perhaps you can focus your intention instead on creating a safer work environment for your Black colleagues (inspiration via CNBC). Even more simply, are you reaching out during a time where you feel rested and healed, without acknowledging whether the other person in the conversation has had the same opportunity? Remember that your apology is likely to land in your friend's inbox on top of three more – does that change how you'd like to approach the conversation?
“Apologizing is the dual act of recognizing another’s humanity as sacred while also working to dismantle the internalized-ideologies that led you to dehumanize someone in the first place.”
Ciarra Jones in "The Violence of white (and non-Black PoC) Apologies" on Medium
As a Black woman writing this, I can't speak for all Black people. You can read through these reflections of the apologies and check-ins that many have experienced, and how they feel about them.
"So please, stop sending #love. Stop sending positive vibes. Stop sending your thoughts. Here are three suggestions on more immediately impactful things to offer instead."
Chad Sanders, I Don’t Need ‘Love’ Texts From My White Friends in the NYTimes
"So if this is the first time you’re asking me how I am, if this is the first time we’ve talked about my existence as a black person in America, you are definitely not the person I’m going to call if I’m not okay. And that is okay! It’s also the reason I don’t need you to check on me now."
Priska Neely, Please Stop ‘Checking In to See If I’m Okay in The Cut.
"If you're a white person, you want to try to understand how you might be feeling if you were in the kind of crisis that your black colleague or friend is in right now," she explains. "What would I want to hear?" Dr. Breland-Noble also points out that if they were really our friends — if they were really coworkers that we valued — we would always be coming from a space of trying to understand, whether in a crisis or not."
Elizabeth Gulio, Before You Check In On Your Black Friend, in Refinery29
"She wanted to make sure she was not creating an emotional burden for her friends, she said, but also that she was not missing an important moment to help if they needed anything. She settled on a simple rule: She would only check in with people of color she already interacted with on a daily basis before the protests, those who she felt would receive her message with a sense of relief and not as an additional burden."
Jose A. Del Real, White people are pouring out their hearts - and sending money - to their black friends in the Washington Post
KEY TAKEAWAYS
Although we can never be fully responsible for how someone responds, we need to get critical on our impact can cause harm to people, especially when they are already in pain
Read perspectives from Black people and others in different relationships when understanding intent v. impact in these conversation
Move into apologies with a full commitment to do the work to dismantle the preconceptions that got you here
Acknowledge how white guilt can often play a role in misconstruing intent, and causing negative impact
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