In response to several widely covered police killings last year, support for Black Lives Matter surged among white Americans. Their new interest in racism sent books, documentaries, shows and films about racial injustice from the periphery into the mainstream.
Infographics and TikToks about apprehending racism trended on social media for months at a time. For the first time in decades, it looked as though Americans were on the cusp of realizing great change within the racial justice movement – and then it stopped.
It happened gradually, but markedly. What happened, and why? Perhaps we have difficulty empathizing with those whose experiences vary from our own. As a graduate student in mental health counseling, I cannot help but view this phenomenon from an evolutionary psychology standpoint.
Our ability to empathize with those who look like us and inability to sustainably do so for those who do not is an evolutionary adaptation.
Hundreds of thousands of years ago, humans adapted to recognize in-group members as same and out-group members as others. It’s unlikely that humans encountered different races during evolutionary history, thus, we don’t have adaptations specific to our contemporary concept of race.
Whether you attribute it to evolution or media coverage wrought with increasingly violent imagery, it’s clear that many of us are becoming desensitized to hearing or reading about acts of violent crime. Not only have Americans returned to their normal lives, a poll by political scientists Jennifer Chudy and Hakeem Jefferson show that white support for Black Lives Matter is now lower than it was in January 2020, before Breonna Taylor and George Floyd were killed by the police.
For myself and others who work in varying levels of social justice advocacy, this is a devastating blow. While I recognize that progress often isn’t linear, I wonder how long it will take for the racial justice movement to come back from this.
Racial justice isn’t just another political issue. It intersects with issues such as freedom of education, feminism, queer and gender justice, and the anti-capitalist movement. If one stands for any of these ideals, one must stand for racial justice. While we cannot choose what circumstances we are born into, we can choose how we show up for ourselves and advocate on behalf of others.
I feel strongly about these issues because they affect my life and those of my loved ones on a deeply personal level. Anti-racism – whether anti-Black, anti-Asian, anti-indigenous or fill-in-blank – is a human rights issue. It is a matter of a safety, and in many cases, life or death.
People of color don’t get to leave their race at the front door. It’s something we are constantly reminded of and must always maintain awareness of for the sake of our safety.
This time last year, I marched in the streets for racial justice alongside white allies. I watched them mobilize and memorize information about being an ally to share with others. The air was electric with the promise of change. I had so many feelings. I was angry, sad, realistically optimistic, but not entirely hopeful.
I think I knew better than to be hopeful, even then. I don’t place blame on anyone or anything for the way things turned out. As the world has slowly reopened since COVID-19 lockdown, white allies have returned to other priorities. Anti-racism has taken a back seat because it does not explicitly affect their lives.
I believe the racial reckoning truly lost its momentum when white Americans realized that “doing the work “meant more than following a hashtag or reading a book on practicing anti-racism. Doing the work of anti-racism is a lifelong learning practice.
It lost momentum because “doing the work” is hard and often uncomfortable. It asks one to place their ego aside, unlearn what they have been conditioned to know, and ask questions about something they may not fully understand. You many sometimes get it wrong – and that’s ok. Keep doing the work!
Doing the work is exhausting, but it is rewarding. It will pay off, even if it sometimes takes time. It means greater or more widespread understanding, and meeting what we do not understand with openness and kindness rather than with fear or violence.
One simple thing you can do to be a social justice advocate is ask “why.” Instead of ignoring or shying away from someone or something you do not understand, be curious.
Find out why, either by looking it up or by politely asking the source. If you choose not to, be aware of what thought patterns are standing in your way. Learn to recognize the difference between asking a question from a place of genuine curiosity and asking a question with the intent to make someone else feel different.
Be intentional with what you say and how you say it. When possible, call on others to be curious as well. A wise person once said that conflict often stems from a lack of understanding. Seeking to better understand our differences enables us to find the humanity in any person or situation.
Grace Korley is a lifelong activist and volunteer with Sarasota’s Harvey Milk Festival, where she is collaborating to bring greater visibility to LGBTQ+ people of color. She lives in Winter Park and is working toward a Master’s in Clinical Mental Health Counseling.
