I’m heartbroken.
My heart is heavy as I think about the murder of another unarmed Black individual. Watching him narrate his final moments on earth was one of the hardest things I’ve done.
These traumatizing occurrences keep happening, and I ask myself:
“When will this end?”
“Am I or someone I know next?”
“Will I be another hashtag?”
I think of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery, Atatianna Jefferson, Eric Garner, Sandra Bland, Tamir Rice, Trayvon Martin and every other Black individual who has lost their life to police brutality and see myself, my family and friends.
It’s exhausting to see beautiful Black lives continually taken from this world by the hands of prejudice, racism and injustice.
Reading these stories as I have no time to process the previous one leaves me numb.
I’m a proud Black man. I love my skin and the history that stems from my people, but everyone doesn’t believe in my value.
I’ve sat back for a long time and let things slide. I’ve seen my culture mocked, ridiculed and appropriated, but after years of silence, I can no longer remain complicit to the ignorance around me.
Being in predominantly White spaces all my life, I became used to not calling out racism and ignorance when I heard or saw it out of wanting to keep the peace.
I think of the times I’ve heard White “friends” say they loved and respected me yet would say the N-word behind my back in conversations or sing it with ease at social gatherings. I think of the times I’ve discussed the Black experience or racial issues to be told I’m overly dramatic or to be given a look that says “I really don’t care.”
There was the time in college where a peer thought it would be funny to write the N-word on a slip of paper during a meeting and say it was the “curse jar word of the night.” There were three Black men in the room, and we were looked at like we offended them by us speaking up and saying we were offended.
I was told in middle school by a White student, “My great, great ancestors owned your great, great ancestors.”
What about the multiple times I’ve heard, “Caleb, you’re not Black. You’re the Whitest Black person I know.”
These words were said with absolutely no regard to my feelings.
This rhetoric adds to the problem.
I’ve been the token Black friend/student, I’ve posed for pictures and smiled in videos to make spaces look “more diverse” and I’ve gone above and beyond to not be a stereotype.
The truth is that I’m not exempt from mistreatment and injustice just like any other Black person. The way we speak, act or dress doesn’t spare us from becoming another news story.
The Black experience is understanding that no matter what level of status you achieve whether that be CEO of an organization, college professor or even the president of the united states, you can be a recipient of discrimation and prejudice.
Since the murder of #GeorgeFloyd, I’ve been asked by my White peers:
“How can I educate myself about racial matters?”
To that I say this:
1. Examine your heart.
2. Have tough conversations with your family and other White peers.
3. Educate yourself with books and visual references that speak to the Black experience.
4. Sign online petitions.
5. Donate to local and national organizations.
6. Get your feet on the pavement to peacefully protest, if you feel safe.
7. SPEAK UP to denounce racism and injustice.
8. Lastly, pray for your Black friends and peers. We’re hurting, exhausted and feeling a lot of emotions right now. Our hearts are heavy, and we need rest.
At a time like this, using our voices is imperative as we seek to combat injustice. But for those who have chosen to remain silent, understand that your silence speaks volumes. Trust me when I say, it has become abundantly clear as to where you have sided on this matter.
Martin Luther King, Jr. famously said, “In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.”
For years, I chose to remain silent. I chose to put up with derogatory commentary and acts of racial insensitivity, but I, like many others, can no longer sit on the sidelines.
It’s time for me to use my voice and amplify the stories of those who are no longer present.
Black Experiences Matter.
Black Stories Matter.
Black Lives Matter.
Because I, Caleb Britt, Matter.
Caleb Britt 