ACTION SPEAKS LOUDER THAN WORDS

By Beth Johnston for the Brick Magazine https://thebrickmagazine.com/action-speaks-louder-than-words/

8 minutes, 46 seconds was the breaking point for me.

George Floyd was murdered in front of all of us. I watched in horror, along with most of America, as a Black man had the life sucked out of him by a police officer pressing his knee into his neck. He called for his mom and every mother heard that cry. It was a pivotal moment for me.

I’ve always been a champion for equality. I grew up in Ann Arbor, a fairly liberal town. My parents were both educators and taught me to be kind, to stand up for our beliefs, and to give a voice to those who may not have one or who aren’t being heard. As a young girl I remember the racial unrest of the ‘60s and ‘70s, but I don’t think I fully understood my “white privilege” until recently.

There is a word to describe it: ”woke.” According to Merriam-Webster, to be “woke” means to be “aware of and actively attentive to important facts and issues (especially issues of racial and social justice).” I admit that this is a journey for me. I’m still listening, learning, and reflecting.

I was an elementary educator for 30+ years in both the Ann Arbor Public Schools and Pinckney Community Schools. I attended diversity training and tried to teach tolerance and inclusion to my students  — I used an online resource called Teaching Tolerance for my students and myself. I probably failed in many aspects, but I did what I knew at the time. I realize now that I could’ve done more, and that the version of Black history taught in the public schools falls woefully short of the truth. 

In 2012, the death of Trayvon Martin had a big impact on me. There were events regarding racism and the inequities that people of color face every day after that, and those kept nagging at me as well. In my opinion, the Trump presidency created a more public platform for racism; it’s always been there, but his hate speech and rhetoric unleashed more of it.

The death of George Floyd and the year 2020 as a whole were a tipping point for me. On February 23, 2020 we witnessed Ahmaud Arbery jogging through a predominantly white neighborhood. He was chased down by two white men, who ended up fatally shooting him. Next, on March 13, Breonna Taylor was asleep in her apartment when officers stormed in and fatally shot her. Then there was George Floyd on May 25. The protests began. No justice, no peace. Black Lives Matter became more than a hashtag. Coronavirus did not stop the mostly peaceful marches and demonstrations. Social media was inundated with outcries. Systemic racism, anti-racism, police reform, white privilege, white supremacy, justice — these terms were flooding the internet.

I was caught up in the movement. I began to read Black authors and follow Black leaders on Facebook and Instagram. I donated money to Black Lives Matter. I posted my support and sometimes alienated people who didn’t hold those same values or beliefs. 

But I admit that it didn’t feel like enough. I wanted to “do” something. Too often people offer symbolic alliance, but don’t create strategic change. I know that action speaks louder than words. What could I do that might make a real difference?

This is when I stumbled across the Livingston Diversity Council’s Facebook page. I had no idea this council even existed. Livingston County, which is where I’ve lived since 2001, is notoriously white. I remember in 2000, when my oldest son was in sixth grade, I made the decision to have my boys begin the school year in Pinckney, since we would be moving there in January. He came home from his first day of school and he said, “Mom, there are no Black kids in my school.” It was a bit of a culture shock for him coming from Ann Arbor, where he had several African American buddies. All three of my boys were used to more diversity; they played sports and went to school with friends of color.

I began to do some research on the Livingston Diversity Council. Their mission statement on their website resonated with me: “We are a change agent for diversity, equity, inclusion, and access that collaborates, educates, and empowers to build a thriving community.” Their vision statement felt especially relevant: “Livingston County will be a transformative community that embraces and empowers all people for their uniqueness and contributions.”

I also read a couple articles that they had posted on their Facebook page. One was titled “For Our White Friends Desiring to be Allies” by Courtney Ariel, and the other was “75 Things White People Can Do for Racial Justice” by Corinne Shutack (this is now updated to “103 Things”). Allyship and action seemed critical.

I reached out to Nicole, the President of LDC on June 1, 2020. The last sentence of my inquiry read: “I feel that as a privileged white woman, I need to take action to help. This seemed like a good start.” She told me about a few committees that I might want to join, one of which was their training committee, which was focusing on a full-day community conference in the spring of 2021.

I chose to become part of that committee. The full-day conference had to be postponed due to COVID-19, but we’ve been working on community diversity education material for packets to be distributed to local businesses and individuals, as well as a monthly Zoom educational series called Learn, Love, Livingston — A Dive into Diversity, Advocacy, Economy, and Empowerment. Each month has a different theme and focus. 

I love being part of a proactive group whose main focus is diversity. I realize this is just a small drop in the larger ocean of racial justice, but it’s a strategic action and not just lip service. My personal journey into diversity activism is just beginning, and I have much to learn.

“There is always light. If only we’re brave enough to see it. If only we’re brave enough to be it.” — Amanda Gorman