💛 Hey Reader,

For a select few, it’s hard to believe that issues of race, discrimination, and privilege still need to be addressed in 2024. But all they need do is have an in-depth conversation with a Black person or Person of Color about their direct experience in these matters to realize that racism is alive and well. With today’s polarized political climate and the rising numbers of hate crimes, it’s more important than ever that these conversations take place to facilitate understanding, awareness, and motivation to eliminate racism.

“I don’t see color.”

This phrase has never sat well with me. I understand its intended meaning: a Person of Color’s skin color, ethnicity, and/or culture does not negatively impact my perception of them.

That’s a noble concept in theory, but it requires an enormous precondition: that all people are treated equally. We all know that’s not the world in which we live. When someone confesses color-blindness to me, as a Black person, I interpret the admission as a self-affirming pat on the speaker’s back at best and a benign put-down at worst. To most People of Color, the words “I don’t think of you as [insert skin color or ethnicity here]” imply that the Person of Color is safe or non-threatening, unlike other people of said group, thus making that particular Person of Color acceptable.

Instead of whitewashing a Person of Color’s ethnicity, it’s better to have a palpable respect, a healthy curiosity about, and a bold appreciation for people’s “color.” (I broadly use the term “color” to include ethnicity, nationality, heritage, culture, etc.) Embracing cultural differences amps up living in black and white to experiencing life in vivid technicolor, much like the difference between watching shows on grayscale TV sets of the 1950s versus today’s smart TVs, mobile devices, and tablets, which are capable of rendering millions of colors for your viewing pleasure.

I have several white friends to whom I’ve had to explain this concept. One white friend told me, “I don’t see you as Black. I see you as you.” Having had a relationship with this person for over thirty years, I knew there was not one ounce of ill-will in their comment, but still, the statement stung. After I lowered my hackles, I explained that to ignore my “blackness” — all the life lessons I’ve learned from my parents, family, and friends, the intangibles they’ve taught me about myself and how to navigate the world, my affable good nature that seems effortless, as well as my composure in moments that warrant panic, were forged in the blackness of my family. Instead of recognizing and embracing it, the comment attempts to negate the influence of my ethnicity’s heritage/culture in shaping the person I am.

We all see color. To pretend otherwise is disingenuous and disrespectful. Recognizing someone’s “color” involves discarding the shorthand of stereotypes for a more expansive lexicon that comes only with in-depth, firsthand experience. The question is, do we allow our individual bias to dictate whether we treat people fairly and with respect, or do we paint them with a generalized brush?

Bombs Away

Two sentences bring the potential for deep and meaningful conversations about race between people of different races to a grinding halt —

  1. “I’ll never understand what it’s like to be Black.”
  2. “You’ll never understand what it’s like to be Black.”

Both sentences imply that since it’s impossible to fully understand what it’s like to be a Person of Color, it’s impossible on any level to understand, acknowledge, or even empathize with the challenges People of Color face, so why try? This all-or-nothing rationale does not hold water.

When we go to the movies, we can’t fully understand what it’s like to befriend a talking scarecrow, a man made of tin, and a cowardly lion. But we can relate to Dorothy Gale’s adventures because making and being a friend is a common human experience. When we watch a Super Bowl game, we can’t fully understand what it’s like to be the quarterback of either team competing in such a high-stakes game. However, we can relate to either quarterback’s emotional highs and lows during the game because competing to win against an adversary for a prize is a common human experience. When men hear of a woman who’s been raped, we can’t fully understand the physical, emotional, or psychological trauma a woman experiences in such a heinous violation. But we can relate to being on the losing end of a physical altercation.

When a Person of Color tosses out the “you don’t understand what it’s like” bomb, it’s usually in response to a white person asserting that they know better how to interpret the Person of Color’s reality. There’s a word for that: whitesplaining, and it occurs when a white person (or people of a different color) attempts to —

  1. Explain to a Person of Color why and how they should feel about their own experiences.
  2. Make the discussion about themselves and not the Person of Color who has suffered social injustice on a daily basis.

It’s similar to telling a neurosurgeon about the rigors of performing brain surgery and the trials I face as a neurosurgeon based on my experience watching medical dramas on TV. Observing an experience never supersedes living that same experience.

Diffusing the Bombs

So how does one diffuse a “you don’t understand what it’s like” bomb? It’s much easier than you might think. Everyone, everywhere on planet Earth, basically wants two things: to be heard (understanding) and to know that they matter (validation). The best response “I” know is —

“You’re right. I don’t understand what it’s like to be you. But I do understand what it’s like to be human, to feel discounted, mistreated, or misunderstood. Tell me about your experience.”

Of course, you don’t have to use those exact words. Use words that reflect who you are and are appropriate for the situation. What needs to be acknowledged is an awareness of your limited understanding and a willingness to establish similar reference points to broaden that understanding. The point of a discussion on race between people of two different races is not about seeing oneself in someone else’s shoes. The goal is so much bigger than that and simpler to achieve. It’s about first finding common ground, listening, and inquiring in an attempt to better understand the other person’s experience.

Let me take this one step further. Another white friend of mine (who didn’t understand that one purpose of Black Lives Matter’s tenets is to confront racial profiling and negative bias) told me a story in which a police officer pulled him over for going maybe five to ten miles over the speed limit. His encounter with the white police officer went fine until he examined my friend’s driver’s license and mentioned his last name, Torres (name changed for privacy). From there, the traffic stop went south quickly. The officer’s tone became combative; my friend was asked to get out of his car and was subjected to a level of scrutiny that exceeded anything he had ever experienced.

The privileges normally afforded by his military credentials and profession as a rocket scientist became null and void. I explained to my friend that he had been racially profiled, despite his gringo appearance. He noted the officer’s overt bias against Latinos. I asked that he try to imagine what it’s like for Black Americans who have no appearance to shield them from officers who have a negative bias against Black Americans. My friend experienced an a-ha moment in understanding the need for and purpose behind Black Lives Matter.

The Take-Away

In discussions about race in America, a full and complete understanding of another person’s experience is not a prerequisite to engaging in meaningful conversations. But, a willingness to recognize the humanity in one another and the ability to listen with an open mind are mandatory.

Love one another.

This article was first published at Medium.com.