[ the content of character ]
I posted on my photography page the following:
I’d like to have a meaningful conversation about experiences, perceptions, and guidance from the black community. I am beginning to understand what is meant by white privilege and I want to use that privilege to amplify black voices.
If you’re interested in talking to me, the door is open. I’d love to listen and to share and take a meaningful portrait of you. Your face matters, your message matters, and your life matters. If you need an avenue to share it, mine is available to you and waiting.
I had no idea if anyone would actually take me up on it, but to my surprise, someone did. I met Ashley years ago when I was a Colorguard director at a local area high school, she was one of the members. I also photographed her wedding and have done family sessions for her with her husband and two adorable boys. So, on a Sunday afternoon I invited Ashley over to my house and we sat in my studio and had a discussion. Over the course of the conversation, Ashley recounted many things she had lived through that I have never even had to consider.
Not being able to drive through an area of your hometown in Louisiana at night because you are black.
Worrying that the way you did your hair would be more of a statement about race than a personal expression
Talking to your children’s teachers a certain way so that you’re not seen as “just another angry black woman”
Being skipped over as the person in charge because you’re a black person.
Picking an area / school / daycare in a specific area because your babies are mixed races.
As a white person, none of this is familiar to me, and this is the heart of white privilege. I would never actively and intentionally try to make someone feel “less than” because of their race, but being racially prejudiced is not the same as living in a racist society. For more on this, please, please, please read “White Fragility” by Robin DiAngelo. Seriously. Read it.
We also talked about something else - and I had a good laugh at this. “The Great White Awakening.” I had a mental image of Moby Dick breaching the waves under a rainbow and just had to laugh. I think Ashley was worried I would take offense to it, but I thought it was hilariously accurate. That’s what it felt like to me at least, a giant AH HA moment that took 35 years to seep into my brain. I watched Ashley grow up as one of the few black people in the entire high school, I watched her try to tame her beautiful curly hair into smooth straightness and y’all - I still didn’t get it. Now that I “see” I want to help, but part of what Ashley helped me to see is that black people don’t need a white savior, because black people are resilient far beyond my ability to help.
So I asked her, what do I do? How do I move forward? Which I realize in itself is a terrible thing to ask, because as someone who lives with these microaggressions, systematic injustice, and general crappiness of the worst of humanity on a regular basis, the last thing the black community deserves is the responsibility of “educating” white people on how to act.
But thankfully, she is gracious, and she told me that we should correct someone when they say or do something racist. It sounds simple, but it’s not. It’s standing up to a bully, it’s intimidating, and may result in changed friendships. It may be easier to just let it go, but if you don’t speak out, your behavior teaches that person and everyone around both of you that you are (1) okay with that behavior (2) doesn’t give that person a chance to change. I hope that by sharing what I have learned with you that we can redirect our social discourse, and do better.
When I asked her how she wanted to be photographed, she said “happy, because I am happy, and I don’t want to be photographed so seriously” and I thought that was perfect :)
Thank you, Ashley, for your time, and your wisdom, I learned a lot from you and I appreciate you <3