Ever since I can remember, the week of my birthday has always fallen during the same week as Martin Luther King Day. And, for the last 22 years, I've celebrated MLK Day either in my pajamas, shopping, catching up on homework, planning my upcoming birthday party, or even doing something as simple as spending time with my friends and/or family. So, like most people, in ignorance I've treated it like a day off (and
not a holiday) without thinking twice about Martin Luther King.
(Disclaimer: I'm not saying that I didn't have any respect for Martin Luther King in the past, but I've simply treated MLK Day as a vacation rather than a day of reflection.)
First and foremost: Unless you've been living under a rock for the past ten years, you all know that I have an African American sister whom I adore, treasure, cherish, love and would in all seriousness -- DIE for. She may be only ten years old, but she is
not just my sister -- she's my best friend, my shoulder to cry on (believe me, it's happened), my companion, partner in crime, my
everything. (And to think I wondered why she didn't like my ex-boyfriend...)
Ever since Amanda was born, I've adored not only her, but also her beauty -- those stunning eyes, flawless skin and
incredible hair. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't remind her of how beautiful she is and how proud I am to call her
MY sister. (Sure, I share her with my other two sisters but we all know I'm her favorite.) Well, as devastating as this is going to sound, there are indeed kids at school that tell Amanda that Gage isn't her brother because she doesn't look like him. There are kids that tell her she's not part of our family because she isn't
WHITE. She may be Black, and I may be White --
but it sure has heck does NOT make a dang difference. It wouldn't matter if she was purple, green, yellow, orange, blue or pink -- she would
still be my sister and
I'd love her just the same.
So, needless to say, upon coming to BYU as a 21 year old white Mormon girl, I've known that there are African American people in the world. I went to school, I read the textbooks, I learned about the Civil Rights Movement, and I've seen
Remember the Titans, The Help and even
Hairspray. I thought I knew the history, I
thought that I understood... until today.
Today my friend Alexis invited me to the Martin Luther King Commemoration on campus at BYU. I was really excited because I had never been this annual celebration before, and I wanted to be a part of it.
The celebration began at the Bell Tower where everyone met and gathered to light candles to march to the Wilkinson Center in honor of Dr. King. At first when we arrived, there weren't very many people there. However, as time went on and the sun began to set, more and more people showed up -- both Black and White, even Hispanic, Asian and Native American. (Honestly, it was probably the most diversity I had ever seen on this predominantly White campus. And I
loved it.)
After "marching" to the Wilkinson Center in this sea full of people holding lit candlesticks in their hands (PS, coolest thing ever), everyone took a seat and waited for the ceremony to begin. As I sat there waiting, Alexis was talking with all of her friends that she knows from the Multicultural Club and Black Student Union. (And now this is where the brutal honesty and hard truth comes in...) Let me tell you -- never in my life had I
ever before felt out of place because of my blonde hair, pale skin and light blue eyes. For the first time in my life, I could finally look at someone of a different race than me and say:
I understand. Let me further explain my point...
The main speaker, Tamu Thomas-Smith, made some amazing points -- but the one that I will
never, EVER forget was when she said... (something along the lines of) "Every day of my life I've felt uncomfortable. We all feel uncomfortable. We get used to it. In fact, when it's comfortable, we don't like it. If any of you here feel out of place, you now know how we feel." And at that moment I felt like she was talking directly to me. She then continued and told stories of the times she spent at BYU-Idaho (formerly Ricks) and how she felt like she stood out because she was Black. She then said, "All I wanted people to do was see me for
me -- not remind me of what I look like." And then it hit me again -- HUGE slap in the face that
really woke me up. (Again, let me explain before you go jumping to any conclusions.)
Every time I look at Alexis or Amanda and tell them how beautiful they are
(I truly 100% mean it with every fiber of my being!) Even if I may mean it out of the sincerity of my heart -- I'm pointing out that they're different than me. I'm pointing out their looks. I finally realized tonight that even if a comment may not be offensive or racist, pointing out someone's differences (especially in a large group setting) can still make them feel especially different or out of place.
Now, I'm not going to sit here and tell you that I've never laughed at a racist joke. But tonight something hit me, and it hit me like a ton of bricks.
White people don't understand & they will never understand the challenges that a Black, Asian, Hispanic, Indian, or Native American person faces every day of their lives in America. There are hundreds -- even
thousands of people who may claim that they're not racist... but they sure aren't sensitive or respectful, either.
The saddest part about today was that it took me 23 years to get to this point -- even
having a Black sister didn't get me here. But you know what? That is
OK. The thing that matters is that I'm finally
here. I'm finally
beginning to understand. Although this newfound understanding won't come all at once, I have finally started on this journey to understanding people who are different than me. So, with that being said...
Today I've made the decision to become even
more aware of and sensitive to others' feelings. I've made the decisions to stop being subconsciously racist (look it up -- quite interesting). I've made the decision to
respect people in every sense of the word.
Thank you, Alexis, for inviting me to such a touching celebration that I will remember for the rest of my life.
