Growing up, I was never a stranger to issues of discrimination and injustice. Being the daughter of a Black Panther, I grew up listening to horrifying stories my dad would tell me about the times he had to sit outside of Black families’ homes with guns in order to protect them not only from racial bigots and terrorist groups like the KKK, but also from police officers. I grew up hearing about the injustices my father faced, the times he was rejected from jobs and schools, how he was pulled over by police officers when he was with a white woman. But I also grew up listening to inspiring stories, stories about the Civil Rights Movement, about the marches my father and older sisters participated in to end racial discrimination and segregation, about the celebrations they had when the Civil Rights Act was signed by LBJ and the Voting Rights Act passed through Congress
I suppose I clung to the happier stories. In a sense I believed that the injustices my father faced had ended. I also lived in a privileged bubble as my father was one of the first Black men to rise through the ranks of corporate America and my mom is white. Due to this privilege, I was afforded the opportunity to go to a prestigious private school starting in Kindergarten and grew up in one of the most expensive and beautiful neighborhoods in Philadelphia.
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But as I grew up my bubble started to deteriorate, I became aware of the micro-aggressions that were constantly spewed at my father and me: “Why are your lips so big?” “You should straighten hair more.” “Wait, your dad didn’t actually go to Harvard right?” The older I got the less subtle or less “micro” these became and simultaneously I became more aware of the world around me, the ugly world that my privilege had sheltered me from for so long.
I left my private school after 8th grade, when I realized that I didn’t belong there and I went on to attend a public high school. It was there that I discovered the magnitude and intensity of the racism and discrimination that exists in our country. The blatant racist comments made to my friends of color made me cringe. The way certain teachers treated black students as opposed to white students appalled me.
The pinnacle of my realization, sadly, was as it is with most people: when the racism directly affected me. It was my senior year, and a boy I had been involved with for several years tweeted: “Every time I see a black man and a white woman together I wonder why our country ever ended segregation.” My heart broke, in a typical 21st century fashion, by way of a tweet. I was the product of a black man and a white woman. And this was coming from my friend. It was that day, that tweet, that made me realize just how sheltered I had been and how much privilege I had. What were other people of color experiencing? If this were happening to me, a biracial, well-off woman, I couldn’t even let my mind venture to think about what other black people were experiencing. It was that day I vowed to no longer let my privilege cloud my judgement. I would no longer just sit on the sidelines. I would do something and I would make a difference. That was the day that changed my life.
It’s three years later now and I grow more enraged by the way people of color are treated in this country everyday. I wake up to news articles telling me about yet another shooting of an unarmed black man or woman. I hear my friends recount stories of police brutality. I watch videos of police officers aggressively attacking young people and shoving pepper spray in their faces during peaceful protests. White supremacists call my sister and threaten her for strongly standing up for herself and all people of color.
But now I am also more involved, more engaged and more adamant than ever to end racism, discrimination and violence against people of color. I’ve gotten off of the sidelines and have made the commitment to do as much as I can in this fight to make sure everyone knows that Black Lives Matter and that the POC community will no longer stand for the horrific treatment we receive not only from some police officers but from society at large.
Getting off the sidelines and actually becoming active has resulted in me hosting a massive event with hundreds of people of all races, ethnicities, religions, and classes. With the help of the hundreds of people who showed up to the Vigil for Lives Lost Due to Police Violence in Philadelphia in July 2016, we were able to simultaneously mourn and begin an important conversation. The vigil allowed people to voice their concerns and helped us to begin a constructive dialogue on how we end systemic racism and discrimination in this country. And although it might seem like a small feat, it moved us in the right direction; it brought us one step closer to ending the racism that, as of yet, hasn’t ceased to exist in the United States.
I am glad that the boy tweeted that day my senior year of high school because it was the last thing I needed to pop my bubble of privilege. It was my wake-up call. It was the day I realized my complete privilege and how long I have been sitting on the sidelines for. It was what pushed me to become an activist and what has driven me to make a change. I urge everyone who is sat on the sidelines, whether they be people of color or white, to get up and act. The time is now.
And to those privileged enough to not even realize they are sat on the sidelines, as I once was, I urge you to realize what privilege you may have and recognize the fact that you are sitting on the sidelines while people of color are suffering every single day. And if you already recognize your privilege and aren’t acting on it, I want you to consider that despite self-realization being incredibly important, it is also incredibly useless if you don’t act on it. The time is now. We cannot sit on the sidelines any longer.
*Writers note: My sister, Sevgi Fernandez, is the Founder and President of Together We Stand, a nonprofit organization that aims to dismantle racism, discrimination and police brutality through legislation, advocacy and education. TWS organized the vigil spoken about in this article and dozens of others across the country and I was lucky enough to be able to host the one in Philadelphia. To get involved visit our website: http://togetherwestand.nationbuilder.com/staffstaf...
