Anti-Racism is Self Care
In a series of blog posts, I’ll revisit episodes of my podcast Conversations with a Wounded Healer that have significantly contributed to my understanding of antiracism and liberation. I’ll begin with one of the most holy of these conversations with the late Derrick Dawson from May of 2020.
In 2017, when the idea of creating my podcast first emerged, I couldn't have foreseen how it would transform into a meaningful audio diary, documenting my growth in all aspects of life, particularly in the realm of liberation and anti-racism work. I grew up in Southern Ohio, just north of the Mason-Dixon line. But where I’m from, the lines between racism and liberation are less distinct than the dotted line on a map.
Regrettably, my father held admiration for Hitler and expressed discriminatory views during my upbringing. He once mentioned that he chose my mother with the intention of having children with specific physical traits. While he never used the term 'Aryan,' it was heavily implied. He also suggested providing birth control to young Black women to dissuade them from having children, an idea deeply rooted in racism. Furthermore, he casually referred to my brother and me as 'beaners,' a derogatory term, as if it were an affectionate nickname. These examples represent only a few of the blatant and overt instances of racism I encountered.
But no one ever thought to mention that he was racist. Looking back with all the knowledge I’ve acquired, these issues are like a blaring tornado siren, warning of imminent danger. But in Southern Ohio in the 80s/90s, we let these things slide because it was just how some people thought. No one in my circle ever bothered to question these thought processes.
Graduate school was the first time I was ever introduced to the idea of white privilege, via Peggy McIntosh’s Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack. I was twenty-nine years old. While some may argue that I should have investigated racism earlier as a white person, the reality is that I had no role models or examples to follow in my life. I believe many other white individuals also move through life without confronting this issue until another white person dares to say, 'Hey, there's this thing called racism, and it doesn't only impact black and brown communities; it affects us too.' Without such encounters from within our own community, we are likely to remain blind to the harms we suffer and cause.
Derrick Dawson came into my life as quickly as he left it. I met Derrick in January of 2020 at a training by Chicago Regional Organizing for Antiracism and he sadly died on July 3, 2022. The opportunity to interview him during the beginning of COVID lockdown was a true gift.
Derrick embodied liberation.
His skill and finesse shone through as he held all the nuances, teaching a mixed audience the truth about the history of racism in the United States. In our conversation, he clearly breaks down the connection between capitalism and racism that I had never before understood. (You’ll have to listen to the episode to get the fullness of his wisdom.) Writing about this conversation can’t begin to convey the depth and breadth of consciousness raising that happened for me as he spoke. Listening back, I hear myself learning for the first time ideas that are now firmly embedded in who I am and how I move through the world.
“How are you ok as you teach about these heavy topics?” I ask. The pandemic had literally just begun weeks before and at this period of time we have no idea how long it will last and how the world will change as a result. I find it impossible to be ok right now, let alone shoulder the burden of educating others about racism.
He thinks for a moment and replies, “For me, I think the reality is that doing anti-racism work is self-care.”
When you're facing a world that seems to be working against you due to your identity as a disabled, Black, gay man, embracing anti-racism as an act of self-care becomes evident. However, the concept becomes more intriguing when considering how white individuals can adopt anti-racism as a form of self-care. For this, I draw upon the insights I've gained in The Twelve Step rooms of Al-Anon, which introduce the valuable concept of The Three As: Awareness, Acceptance, and Action. In Al-Anon, we acknowledge our powerlessness over a person's addiction and focus on developing inner tools to cope with the havoc addiction can cause. I find that this approach applies equally to combatting the destructiveness of white supremacy. By embodying The Three As, I can effectively integrate anti-racism into my self-care routine.
Awareness: My initial encounter with the concept of white supremacy left me grappling with intense guilt and shame. The realization that I had benefited from a world that disadvantaged people of color, sometimes at my own hand, proved overwhelming. Emotions of vulnerability, sorrow, resistance, and fear washed over me. Who am I if I’m not the good white person I believe myself to be?
Acceptance: Despite the emotional upheaval, I knew that my journey of learning had to continue. Over time, I developed more capacity to tolerate and confront the harsh realities of white supremacy and the consequences of my actions. My commitment to ongoing education allows me to address my blind spots, striving to gain a clearer perspective and drive meaningful change wherever possible.
Action: Guided by my work with The Sarahs and my role as a therapist, I actively engage in dismantling oppressive systems within myself. I aspire to inspire fellow white individuals to undertake their own journeys of self-examination and transformation, fostering change not only within themselves but also within their organizations.
Derrick is a continued source of inspiration for my work. I wish he were still alive to see the seeds he planted in me grow and flourish. I dedicate my anti-racism work in his honor in an attempt to carry his legacy and contribute to a greater world with liberation for all.
