Reader opinion: ‘My dear black brothers and sisters, I hear you. I see you. I love you.’
Editor’s note: Diane Takata Powell tweeted at us yesterday, disappointed that our newsletter hadn’t mentioned Alton Sterling or Philando Castile, who were shot by police in Louisiana and Minnesota, respectively, earlier this week. She later wrote this letter and sent it to us. We have published it here with minimal editing for clarity.
I’ll confess. I’m really not good about talking about my feelings. In fact, I shy away from it as much as possible. I also don’t like confrontation or disagreement. I can count on my hands the number of times I’ve had an argument with folks. Perhaps it’s the southern in me. Perhaps it’s because I’m an Asian-American woman who’s worked in male-dominated industries. Or perhaps it’s because I’m scared of hurting someone’s feelings. Well, as Fannie Lou Hamer said, “I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired.” Y’all, I’ve got to talk about my feelings.
On Thursday I called out the Charlotte Five (and Charlotte Agenda) for not mentioning Alton Sterling … not even in the commentary or as a news story. This IS hyperlocal to Charlotte. Our Charlotte black brothers and sisters are struggling with, yet another, fallen black male taken down by white police officers. Folks in our Charlotte community are devastated. We must talk about this. We can’t wait for black folks to tell us what to say or do. Tears are streaming down my face as I read through friends’ posts: “This country is SCARED of my blackness,” “what if this was me,” “this could have been my son,” “my heart seemed to shatter all over again,” and it goes on and on.
My dear white friends, implicit bias exists. Racism exists. If you woke up these past couple of mornings and didn’t feel some type of sadness for your fellow Americans who are hurting, examine your world and influences. Expand your circle of influence and friends; listen and talk to someone about this. Ask yourself why it didn’t even cross your radar or faze you that a man died at the hands of the police. And let’s be clear…another black man died at the hands of white police.
Some of you will claim this isn’t about race and it’s about safety. IT IS ABOUT RACE. When you are in your car or walking down the street and you see a black man walking toward you, is there something inside of you that says (softly or loudly) “Danger! Danger!” Be honest. Ask yourself—why is that? He’s a man…walking down the street…just like the other guy, who is white, that didn’t make you frightened. IT IS ABOUT RACE.
Don’t be afraid. Be engaged. Listen. Examine your world and your biases. We all have them. Put yourself in a position of discomfort. It’s OK to be uncomfortable. Talk to your children. It’s uncomfortable; I know…we told our 4 and 6-year-old boys about this horrific incident and do you know what my 6 year old asked? “Did this happen a long time ago?” And sadly, we had to say: “No. It happened late Monday night.”
Be intentional. Tell them this is not right and you must treat everyone with kindness and respect…no matter what color you or they are. It’s hard; I get it. But it’s incomparably harder for many others whose lives are in danger the minute they step out of the house. This is not the type of city or country in which we should choose to live.
My dear black brothers and sisters, I hear you. I see you. I love you.
Photo: Mark Hames/Charlotte Observer
This story was originally published July 7, 2016 at 9:01 PM with the headline "Reader opinion: ‘My dear black brothers and sisters, I hear you. I see you. I love you.’."