I am a racist.  I didn't think I was, but I now see and understand that I am. The belief that white people are better than BIPOC (black, indigenous, and people of color) has been invisible to me because it's in the air I breathe; it's woven into the very fabric of society.  I never understood that until now.  Now I see.

I always thought I was one of the "good ones".  I've always had a soft spot for BIPOC and prided myself on that.  Because of my international heritage (I'm a Canadian-born to two first generation immigrants), I've always thought I was a cut above the rest of the "really white" people in my level of empathy and understanding.  I thought I was the opposite of racist.

Turns out I was so wrong about that.

I can say I'm against racism but that doesn't negate the fact that white supremacy ideology is in my blood and bones.  The messages and ideas are in my pores.  I'm like a fish in water, totally clueless.  Living with this invisibility has let me be silent.   I've been unaware until now that my skin color buys me many benefits and privileges.  I blend in.  I'm not stereotyped.  I enjoy physical safety.  There's never a thought about how my skin color might hold me back from doing whatever I want.

I've been ignorant and completely oblivious.  This feels embarrassing and uncomfortable.  It makes me want to not write until I've fully figured it out.  And yet, I feel grateful that I'm peeling back the layers of awareness.  It is exciting to uncover this piece that has lay dormant for 41 years.  I'm committed to investigating, educating myself, digging, reading, listening, and doing better.

Until next time,