I did not want this series of posts to be just another white narrative in the time when we should be lifting minority voices. However, I do see the value in sharing my personal journey as a roadmap for others who aren’t sure where to start, as well as for holding myself accountable to anyone who is reading. This series is only a starting point.
I recognize I live a privileged life, and my current position has been supported by racial biases. However, the hesitance to discuss that privilege and personally-held biases presents a huge obstacle in breaking down structures that prevent progress toward social equity. This post is a public examination of the racial narratives I absorbed when I was young and how they have persisted throughout my life.
It’s a subject we’ve been taught not to talk about. But in avoiding conversations on race and the privilege that comes with it, we can’t examine or change any biases we hold. I don’t consider myself to be particularly progressive, but I am incredibly privileged. And for that reason I decided to join a discussion group on the subject of White Fragility.
This is a great time of year for birthdays, though I may be slightly biased. For my birthday this year, I had planned to combine my loves of classic literature and craft beer in a joint “Leaves of Grass” poetry reading and Bell’s “Leaves of Grass” beer tasting. Unfortunately social distancing has complicated matters, but I’m still feeling connected, even while apart.
Despite decontamination efforts, some farmers in Fukushima are having trouble bouncing back because of widespread skepticism around claims of safety. The local economy is shifting to include green technology, but it remains to be seen if Fukushima can ever shake its stigma. While the government would like to put the accident in the past, there are some who don’t want it forgotten or excused.