How we Feel: Voices of Women of Color

How We Feel: Voices of Women of Color Dr. Ottawa Sanders WCAPS Member August 16, 2020 The following piece highlights quotes and statements expressed by members of the organization “Women of Color Advancing Peace, Security and Conflict Transformation” (WCAPS), immediately following the killing of George Floyd. This article is part of the WCAPS podcast and article series “A Seat at Our Table.”

On May 25, George Floyd was murdered in police custody after an officer pinned his knee on Mr. Floyd’s neck for 8 minutes and 46 seconds, while three other officers looked on and did nothing. Mr. Floyd uttered, “I can’t breathe,” more than 20 times and called out for his children and dead mother. His final words before he took his last gasps of breath were, “They’ll kill me.

They’ll kill me.” He was pronounced dead at 9:25 p.m. at a nearby hospital.

In the wake of that horrific death, so many of us are conditioned, as Andreanna Mond puts it, “to keep on going, to push past the pain and emotions to do what needs to be done,” and we have internalized the need to do so. Yet, to heal as a community from this traumatic event and continue our fight against systemic racism, it is important to acknowledge and recognize our emotions. As the events unfold, we need to continue to process our feelings, whether they be anger and rage, pain and numbness, or desperation and despair.

According to the Washington Post, “1,022 people have been shot and killed by police in the past year” and “the rate at which Black Americans are killed by police is more than twice as high as the rate for White Americans.” Breonna Taylor was killed after officers shot her eight times in her home in Louisville, Kentucky; Michael Lorenzo Dean was shot in the head and killed by a police officer in Temple, Texas, after a traffic stop; and Atatiana Jefferson was shot and killed by an officer through the window of her home. Konyka Dunson expresses that she was “saddened by the lives lost” and notes that we never hear about many deaths “that don’t make national headlines.”

The anxiety stemming from fears of police brutality and systemic racism is exacerbated by stress resulting from COVID-19. That COVID-19 disproportionately affects Black people adds additional pressure on the Black community, as they continue to cope with racism and the trauma associated with the recent deaths of unarmed Black people at the hands of the police. The stress may make it more difficult to recover from COVID-19 for those who have contracted it, particularly if they have an underlying health condition that also disproportionately affects the Black community, like diabetes or heart disease. Consequently, many Black families are dealing with multiple layers of pressure as they try to stay healthy during the pandemic, while at the same time avoiding interactions with the police.

Having to juggle such pressures is not normal. The killing of George Floyd and other Black people is not normal, and as one WCAPS member stated, “pretending that all is normal is getting

harder and harder.” Normal is being able to walk peacefully down the street while Black, without being accosted and targeted by the police. Normal is the ability to rest and work in your home unarmed, without the threat of being targeted and killed by racist police officers because the color of your skin is perceived as inherently threatening and dangerous. Normal is the ability to co-exist in this world without the trauma and deeply rooted fear that another member of the Black community will fall victim to police brutality.

This non-normality and subjugation of Black peoples extends as far back as slavery and Rabihah Mateen explains that “as a Woman of Color whose ancestors made it through slavery, a failed reconstruction, Jim Crow apartheid, and now resistance to anything resembling progress, I am outraged and saddened by current events.”

Another WCAPS member also expresses her frustration at having conversations about police brutality and systemic racism over and over. She is dismayed with the Whistleblower Laws and the fact that they do not protect a whistleblower from physical harm and retaliation. She is deeply troubled by the history of the US and the degree to which colonialism has impacted our mindsets for generations in various ways in the country and across the world. “There’s so much I take issue with,” she says, and “I wonder why history keeps repeating itself.” Another woman of color expresses a similar feeling, stating, “I have been coping and adjusting all my life, so this is nothing new. In fact, I am afraid that I am starting to feel a little numb to this, like déjà vu happening all over again.”

Indeed, it is so easy to fall into a cycle of shock, desensitization, and resentment in response to the repeated acts of violence. Repeated national and local conversations about police brutality each time another Black person dies at the hands of the police are emotionally exhausting. This exhaustion is particularly acute when acts of resistance, such as protests and appeals to government, do not lead to any concrete changes in policy. Repeated conversations followed by the absence of measurable and long-lasting progress lead to a desensitization to the continual shock of police brutality and a numbness stemming from the silent resignation that things may never change. The lack of hope also leads to resentment for those who understandably conclude that, irrespective of how hard they personally may resist, the problem of police brutality and systemic racism endures.

One of the challenges members of the Black community, particularly Black women, face is processing the pain and grief while at the same time remaining professional and productive.

These challenges are particularly acute when Black people work in predominantly White places of employment where they and their work are undervalued. One WCAPS member tells us “it is difficult to compartmentalize feelings of grief in service of professional obligations” and that it feels so wrong to “dive back into taskers without acknowledging the pain of this moment.” In Maintaining Professionalism in the Age of Black Death Is...A Lot, Shenequa Golding addresses the issue, writing that, “I don’t know who decided that being professional was loosely defined as being divorced of total humanity, but whoever did they’ve aided, unintentionally maybe, in a unique form of suffocation.” Balancing pain and grief with work obligations is even more difficult when your place of employment has not addressed or refuses to address instances of systemic racism. Institutions and organizations that have not addressed this issue with their employees, irrespective of race, make it uncomfortable and very challenging to work in such environments.

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Many organizations and institutions in the peace and security community, however, have recognized the injustices originating from systemic racism and have openly condemned the killing of George Floyd. For example, The Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists notes in the WCAPS Solidarity Statement that, “Within the national security community, the dialogue has been historically dominated by White male voices, and it is our responsibility to initiate and cultivate change.” The Stanley Center for Peace and Security states that it “unequivocally upholds that Black Lives Matter. We commit to immediate action for concrete, enduring, and systemic change in the United States and elsewhere and fully recognize our need to be more cognizant of our privilege, yield space, and ever-more strongly amplify the voices of the Black and Brown individuals and organizations.” And Chatham House stated in the WCAPS UK Solidarity Statement that “Eliminating racial prejudice and their [sic] related, ingrained structures will not be possible without sustained effort.” There is hope expressed now that the OrgsInSolidarity effort being led by WCAPS will help organizations remain focused on the importance of change.

Nevertheless, we still have a long way to go in battling police brutality and systemic racism.

One of the hurdles we face centers on misplaced attention. Far too often, individuals and organizations value lost businesses and commodities over lost lives, which further disrespects the victims and their families, marginalizes the Black Lives Matter Movement, and inhibits progress on dismantling white supremacy. One WCAPS member describes it as “profoundly difficult to be surrounded by individuals who are more concerned with the loss [sic] profit of businesses rather than the lost lives of our brothers and sisters.” As someone living in Washington DC, “I see the pain and exhaustion of our people who are repeatedly denied human decency.” Normadene Murphy expresses a similar sentiment, saying, “I’m so tired of having these circular discussions, not about the continual loss of Black lives, but the destruction of replaceable property. What about the lost lives!”

Another hurdle that we face is that we often do not hear from individuals outside the Black community on these issues. Ambassador Gina Abercrombie-Winstanley expresses exhaustion “from the pain, fear, betrayal and indifference.” She is tired of hearing only from Black voices who have been interviewed “about the impact America’s hard-heart has on them.” She wants to hear more conversations and interviews from non-Black individuals and from people who have the power to do something to change the situation. Thus, it is important for non-Black individuals and communities to participate in the national and local conversations about police brutality and systemic racism, irrespective of whether they are directly impacted by police violence and racism.

Black individuals and communities should not shoulder the burden of changing policies governing police action and racist systems that could have a positive impact for all. As we move forward, it is necessary for the Black community to have allies. For when Black people rise, we all rise.

There are signs of improvement as an increasing number of non-Black voices are beginning to fill the vacuum. These individuals recognize the existence of systemic racism and offer words of support and solidarity. For example, Wardah Amir notes that “as a non-Black Woman of Color, I stand in solidarity with the Black community.” Sean Shank believes that it is important to do more “to hold my fellow White men accountable, to make them feel a little more uncomfortable when they legitimize police use of force or place property value over Black and Brown lives and voices.” Audra Lambert, curator and intersectional feminist, notes that “those of us who present 3

White need to spend our energy to demand change to protect our brothers and sisters, but more importantly, to focus on unequivocally changing the system.” And Grace Choi states that “if we as Asian-Americans do not speak up and out about these unjust racist crimes against our Black and Brown brothers and sisters, then we are also complicit in these crimes against our Black and Brown brothers and sisters.”

During all this violence and trauma, it is understandable to feel confused, overwhelmed, or even unsure how to feel, particularly as we navigate the COVID-19 pandemic. However, as we continue to pray for justice and real change, it is vital that we come together as a nation to defeat systemic racism in all its forms, to prevent the senseless killings of unarmed Black people at the hands of the police. Ambassador Bonnie Jenkins reminds us that “there has to be a better way that we exist on this planet to treat each other with the love and respect we deserve.” She is right; we all deserve this love and respect. We all want freedom, but none of us will be free until Black people are free.

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