When you think you are standing firm...
If you're reading this, I finally clicked on the blue post button. Here goes.
How long can you stare at a blank page on a screen and…
Type.
Delete.
Type.
Delete.
Type.
Apparently for weeks.
I am not an expert.
I am not definitively correct or even mostly correct.
I am but a voice with a unique perspective.
Is it possible to precariously balance, arms akimbo, on a precipice between two worlds that are presently staring each other down and still deeply love both worlds? I’m trying to.
I am 1/2 Korean.
I am 1/2 American - Irish, English, etc. You know what I mean.
I was born in Germany. I only lived there for about 6 months though.
From 1st grade to 12 grade I grew up in Petersburg, VA in a majority black community. i.e. I believe there were 5 white students in my graduating class of over 100.
I did do a short stint in an all-white school in Jay, Maine in middle school. i.e. all of the students were white.
The rest of my life has been spent in white America.
So, I would say that I am neither an expert on being white, or being Korean, or being Black, or any other nationality. I can only say that I have some unique perspectives that not all have.
In 1982, I started first grade in a desegregated elementary school in Petersburg, Virginia. By then, the schools in Petersburg had been integrated for 8 years. They were very late to the game. Brown vs. the Board of Education was in 1954. There was “Massive Resistance" and underhanded legislation that allowed the segregation to continue until 1974. When I came on the scene, my school was about 1/2 black and 1/2 white. As you can see the mass exodus had begun. The resistance against segregation had failed, so the white population decided to leave town and move to the all-white neighboring cities.
Fast forward to my middle school years. By then, my middle school was almost all black. I’m not sure if I really noticed this at the time or if I really cared. I remember about 10 white people in my school. The only thing I remember not liking was that our middle school (the former black high school) had been built in the poor part of town and was not in the best shape. When you think of the time that had transpired and what had occurred in that time, it is quite astounding. Almost the entire white population of Petersburg had moved out of town in a little over a decade to the neighboring all-white towns. They took there businesses with them, therefore they took jobs too far away for those that did not have cars to transport them to said jobs.
By the time high school rolled around, we were all excited to leave Peabody Middle School and attend Petersburg High School. The high school was in the good part of town (the old white part of town) and had much coveted air conditioning. It was beautiful. It had been built in 1974 to accommodate the integration of the schools. This was before the exodus, and Petersburg had the funds to build a nice school. Now that the mass exodus was complete, funds were dwindling. Not only had residents left, but businesses had left too. Therefore they took jobs too far away for those that did not have cars to transport them to said jobs.
You can drive through Petersburg today and still see shuttered businesses. Petersburg was the place you went to go shopping. In fact, the mall was in Petersburg when I was little but quickly was closed down because white people wouldn't shop there and they built a new mall in Colonial Heights - the white town.
There are two incidents that stand out to me most during this span of time.
(1989)
I moved to Maine for my 7th and part of 8th grade year. I went from an almost all black school system to an entirely white school system. Culture shock is a pleasant word for my tumultuous experience. I remember sitting at the lunch table in my new school and telling them about my friends from Virginia. I was naive, to say the least. I had two friends, in particular, Darkeesha and Wondiful in Petersburg. I didn’t mention that they were black. Didn’t seem of any consequence. Of course, their suspicions were confirmed when they asked about the strange names. I told them. They weren’t just shocked that I had black friends. They were disgusted. I made a choice then, oh coward that I was, to not tell people about my black friends. It wasn’t acceptable.
A strange thing happened one day at school. I saw a black boy. If only I could describe the emotions that I felt in that moment precisely as they were.
Shocked. (I hadn’t seen a black person since I left Virginia.)
Excited. (I kind of wanted to hug him. This still happens today in Utah when I see black people. Don’t worry. I restrain myself.)
Sad. (Like really sad. For him because he couldn’t hide that he was black like I could hide the fact that I had black friends. And for me, because we could not be friends. Again, I was a coward. I knew it too.)
The looks of disgust on my “friends’” faces shot back into my mind like a lucid flashback, and I never spoke to him.
(1994)
It was my senior year. Five of us from the honors program went to a forum of some sort. We were sitting at the top of an auditorium with stadium seating. I was sandwiched between my four super smart black friends - who all ended up being smarter than me since I ranked 5th in my class behind all of them. We were surrounded by a sea of white faces. No one in the room was black, except for my friends. I remember in open forum being asked by another white student if I felt safe at my school. I found the question really odd. Interesting that the question was pointed at the one white girl in the mix. I replied quite passionately, “Of course I feel safe. I wouldn’t feel safer anywhere else. I take naps in the cafeteria before track practice.” After this interaction, I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. Maybe I was a little braver now.
Why was I so frustrated and upset at this question? Maybe it’s because they really still had this ridiculous untrue opinion that it was unsafe to live amongst black people. I didn’t know at the time that their parents could have very well been the ones that moved them out of Petersburg before it got too “unsafe.”
At that time, I wanted to believe that all of that was behind us. I was disillusioned to say the least. I was a white girl living in a black world that just got slapped in the face by reality. I could live in both worlds safely because I was white, but the friends I was sandwiched between could not. They were considered “unsafe.”
Believe it or not, Petersburg is still the black town. When I visit the area and inform people that I grew up in Petersburg, they look at me with that "tilted-head side-eyed look” trying to hold in the shock. Everyone knows it has long been the black city. They just don’t know that it was made that way by white people and not by black people in the not so distant past. I watched it happen.
Does that affect today. How about we look at the numbers today: (BTW, Colonial Heights is where all the white families moved including my best friend from first grade.)
Black Population:
Petersburg, VA: 75.6%
Colonial Heights, VA: 13.1%
Median Household Income
Petersburg, VA: $33,939
Colonial Heights, VA: $50,952
26 year ago I left and started my life in white America - where I live in the majority.
I am not foolish enough to believe that within 26 years, we have become color blind. I’m not sure we ever will be or should be. Colors are beautiful.
Over the years, I have learned the danger of pride. (and am still learning!) I have learned that the more I think I see everyone as Christ does, the more I realize I don’t. I see my similarities to the sea of white faces in the room. I see skin tone, I see waist lines, I see economic status and I see the exterior. I harken back to the verse often, “When you think you are standing firm, be careful lest you fall.”
I want to be like Jesus and sit amongst people that are different from me and engage with them - to ask real honest questions that I WANT real honest answers to. I want to be a listener to the plight of those around me, especially if I don’t share in that plight. I want to be the one that does not hide from the disease and make claims that it does not exist. I agree, it is better than yesterday, but for me, better is not good enough.