I want to acknowledge right away that this issue of Watermark does not focus on the Black Lives Matter movement. We are working with black LGBTQ leaders to open much needed space for their voices in our next issue and making connections to provide continued space for underserved voices moving forward.
Most of us think we are good people. That is to say in the fight of good versus evil we tend to think we are the good ones, fighting the good fight and behaving righteously. Innately I guess there is nothing wrong with that. We tell each other to value ourselves, that we are loved and important. But what do we do when we aren’t good people? Can we see that?
This is a difficult column to write, not because I am at a loss for words but because I am struggling to find my place. Welcome to the party, right? It’s a good space for me to be in because it forces me to reflect. I tend to share personal stories in this space of my mistakes. I don’t do it looking for absolution or sympathy, rather to be honest and transparent and hope others can then be honest and transparent with themselves. Perhaps together we can find solutions.
I am the epitome of white privilege. To some this is a badge of honor, to others a trigger for anger and denial. For me it’s a realization that continuously grows stronger. It doesn’t negate my accomplishments, and it doesn’t mean I haven’t had struggles. It just acknowledges I had an advantage in overcoming them.
I had been pulled over three times while driving drunk before I was finally arrested in 2015. I was issued a field sobriety test each time and released to continue driving on two of those incidents. The third I was asked to have a friend come pick me up. No ticket, no arrest, clearly drunk.
When I was eventually arrested, my fourth attempt to pass the field test, I was driving without headlights. I had the mental capacity to turn them on, they just burned out and I didn’t have the faculties to realize it. The officer who pulled me over called for backup once he smelled my breath. Next thing I knew I was in handcuffs in the back of the Sherriff’s car. I was hauled off to the DUI processing center where they asked me to blow into a breathalyzer, to which I refused.
I spent the next few hours in a cell with a mid-20s black guy who I am pretty sure was family. We had been arrested at the same time, for the same offense. There were no accidents in both cases and it was both of our first offenses – well, first time getting caught. We talked each other through the night and parted ways that morning when our bails posted. A few months later, thanks to the Safety Council’s 12-step requirement, he and I crossed paths and exchanged war stories.
I had assumed his experience was the same as mine since they were so similar. The reality was different. I had been accepted into a pretrial diversion program, he had not. I got through without formal charges being brought, he has a criminal record. Despite driving without headlights and refusing a breathalyzer, I got off easier. I find it hard to believe the system was not stacked in my favor.
I have a hard time finding the right words to say these days because I don’t know to what extent I should be saying words at all. What I can do is recognize I have benefited from white privilege, and although it is a hard pill to swallow I can admit I have experienced white fragility. I see, too, how unconscious bias plays a negative role in our community and my role in that.
It’s past time to be better. It’s time to do better. Good people do bad things, we just need understand it, grow from it, make it right and do the next thing right.
In this issue of Watermark we dive deep into the impending rulings of the Supreme Court on LGBTQ rights. It’s June and we await our fate, as we did more than 50 years ago. Regardless of the outcome we must work for a better world for all.
We strive to bring you a variety of stories, your stories. I hope you enjoy this latest issue.
