Every Friday we unite for five minutes. Only five minutes, that's all we get, that's all we have. And then, right where we are, no edits or second-thoughts, we publish those words. This week, we write on assume.
I assume it was said because you felt comfortable in the room.
I assume that the racism that was so clearly spilling from your being was comfortable for you, especially as others chimed in.
I assume I didn't say anything to contradict because I didn't want to make it uncomfortable.
But now I know, I'm a huge part of the problem.
And once again, I shut down at the wrong moment.
There were many ways I could have handled it:
I could have agreed with you that you are, in fact, being an asshole.
I could have said, I think it's time for me to go.
I could have pointed out that not talking about it and making racist jokes might be part of the problem.
I could have asked you if you've asked a marginalized person their perspective.
I could have asked you how many friends of color your kids actually have.
But I didn't.
I don't assume I'm part of the problem, I absolutely know it.