What’s your why?
One of the easiest and best questions that I’ve heard while working in social equity is “what’s your why?” A simple question that’s just loaded with nuance and curiosity. This question drives to the heart of why are you are doing what you’re doing—what’s your skin in the game? This question applies to everyone but our answers can be very different depending on our lived experiences. Were you shocked when you saw video of Barbeque Becky or couldn’t believe that Amy Cooper called the cops because a Black man was in the park? Were you able to take a time out or a pause on the amount of effort you’re putting into racial justice work? Or do you have a bone deep understanding of what racism looks and feel like? What about when you don’t have a personal connection to racial violence?
I was talking with some folks about why each of us has a commitment to racial justice especially if we don’t experience direct negative impact from racism. One light skinned Latina shared her story of her experience of love overcoming racism. Samantha (totally not her name) told us her story about how her father is someone who would never say the “n” word but never shied away from repeating a racist joke or asking why can’t those people just get over it. Samantha’s sister met an Afro-Caribbean man with dark skin (much to their dad’s chagrin) and built a family with him. Once the baby was born Samantha’s father did a 180! Samantha’s father fell head over heels for his baby granddaughter and now won’t let anyone say anything bad about her because of her dark skin and head full of curls. Isn’t that a beautiful story of someone who was able to change?
I mean…maybe? My question to Samantha was why did it take the birth of a child to get her father to not be actively racist? If this baby was never born what would it have taken to get her dad to think about how his behavior isn’t okay? What happens if this little girl disappoints him or turns into someone ‘who just can’t get over it’? Is he defending all Black folks or just his granddaughter? I didn’t expect Samantha to have any answers or to engage in a larger conversation in the moment. She didn’t engage further other than to voice her disappointment in me for ruining her story.
What I was struck by for days after that conversation was the familiar “what’s your why?” question. With the access to power that I hold (yes, you can have access to power and still be systemically marginalized) why do I need to do the grueling work of fighting for racial justice? What I’ve worked out so far (so far!) is that I can’t pin my “why” on anyone else’s experience because I can’t expect others to fuel my drive for equity. I push because I believe that everyone deserves access to opportunities and benefits regardless of where they were born, who they love or if they are housed. My why can’t be based on who I love or who I share community with because my fight doesn’t when or if I no longer have these loved ones near me. This work is important to me because it is woven into who I am. It’s baked into the sauce, so to speak.
So friends, what’s your why?
