The other day I saw a gut wrenching HBO documentary on victims of acid violence in Pakistan. The film was called Saving Face and proved to be quite heart rendering. Later that afternoon a friend (Caucasian) and I carpooled to work. I told her of the documentary and we shared in our outrage and dismay. Later that evening, I lamented about the Michael Brown case with my black coworkers as we shared how fed-up we’ve become. We glimpsed YouTube videos of the latest displays of police violence and shared our notions of what could and should be done.

When I got home the following day, I reflected on the hours past. I scrolled through my Facebook timeline and shared, re-posted and liked comments about police brutality towards blacks. Already pensive, my thoughts migrated to the ease with which my white friends would initiate conversations about the rights of humans in all other circumstances but race.  Without a second thought, we share our detest for the events in other countries or the denied rights of our gay friends but we don’t tread racial waters. Introspection further demanded that I ask the same of myself. Why did I discuss the Pakistani women so freely with my white friend and so eagerly discuss my upset about Michael Brown with my black colleagues. I didn’t feel like I was avoiding the discussion but in retrospect perhaps I was.

Racial tensions are perhaps the most easily and vastly escalated areas of contention. It’s an unspoken and somewhat subconscious understanding between non-racist (at least those who consider themselves to be) blacks and whites. A subliminal need to not ruffle feathers or ruin a perfectly good relationship because of a difference in opinion. In any relationship, there are things from which a partnership “just can’t make it back.” In biracial friendships, a white person who opts to discuss racism with a black person is at the very best walking on egg shells. Should he or she have any opinion that even slightly resembles the opposite of what is shared by the black community, they will immediately be greeted with some form of disdain. As a result, a white person is left to have one of two opinions about black issues; one that explicitly aligns with their black friends thoughts or no opinion at all.

I won’t pretend to be above this. In conversation, even if a black person disagrees with the overall tones of what I consider to be an overt racial issue, I get very defensive. I start to fume inside; barely giving the other person a chance to finish their thought before I begin forming my rebuttal. I’m not listening. I’ve heard most of it but at least half went out the door. We may go back and forth, but there may be a willingness to gain some resolve. As two persons of color, there is a better attempt to understand each other and a hope to end up on the same page. This is often not the same for Non-Hispanic whites. If there is a flicker of disagreement, the immediate internal response is, “I can’t believe she/he may be racist….I thought we were friends.” It’ll most likely end up ill feelings and the beginning of a marred reputation.

Even among black Americans and black immigrants the discussions can raise the same discontent. On several occasions when any differences are discussed between Caribbean culture and American culture, even in instances where it is not relevant, I hear people say, “Caribbean people always think they’re better than black Americans.” While that may be true for several Caribbean Americans, it’s not the premise for every difference in opinion. But often, before a Caribbean national can get a complete sentence out, that idea of separation and “better than” has already muddied the outcome of the conversation. A lot of Caribbean Americans, black immigrants and even black Americans remove themselves from important conversations/debates with the defeatist (though sometimes accurate) notion that, “you can’t say nothing to black people.” It makes me wonder is that how non-racist white Americans feel? Does this notion remove them from a conversation of which they should very well be a part.

I abhor the idea of “this is not our fight,” or “this is not our business.” Injustice against human beings is ALL our business. We all involve ourselves in LGBT, human trafficking, and women’s rights  issues but when it comes to blacks we don’t want to tread those waters. We’d rather leave it to “them.” Even as I share this, I remain no more willing to approach a Caucasian friend and ask, “What do you think of the Michael Brown case?” It feels as though I’d be placing them in an uncomfortable situation or in some way unfairly testing our friendship. Sure, I’d like to share free non-judgmental banter about the topic but would I really be open and unbiased to any opinion different from mine?

There is so much work to be done as it pertains to racism in America. There is a lot of resentment in the black community and tremendously scarring anger. The why is no secret and that unmatched pain in some way perpetuates a white guilt in which persons fear they have no right to have any input. There are cases when a black person has been killed by a police officer and few can argue that some form of justice was not served. However, there are so many cases-as is seen with Michael Brown- that display a total disregard for human life. A disregard seemingly motivated by ones gender and the color of their skin. When these things happen in our backyards we should ALL be outraged. We should ALL be talking about it, understanding the overall issues and taking an active interest in the possibilities of change.

Is there any room for hope when it’s so hard to have an open platform when merely discussing racial issues among persons of different races. Where does the work begin? Is ignorance and/or a lack of understanding ever anything else but racism?

Featured Image credit Entertainment Weekly