After the death of George Floyd, I gave myself a “10-day Challenge” to expose and confront some of the racism my bi-racial family has faced in the last 25 years. This is an update to that challenge, about a week after the last post. To go to the first day of the challenge and see how this series started, read here.
As part of the backstory, a couple months ago we got rid of our landline finally, and today I wonder if we forgot to update that for everyone who needs to know that.
This morning I forgot to turn the house alarm off, opened the back door to let the dogs out, and set the alarm off. I turned it off and waited for the alarm company to call but they didn’t. For the next 30 minutes, I felt dread in the pit of my stomach worrying that if the cops would show up at the front door they might see my husband before me, knowing that I would stand there waiting for as long as it took so that I could be the one to go to the door in my PJs with my wild hair and a not-enough-coffee-yet look on my face rather than let my husband be the one to open the door to the cops. That is white privilege and a glimpse into the fear of being black in America.
After the last day of the challenge, which you can read about here, a friend of mine messaged me that she hopes we have cameras outside our home. We do. For me, unfortunately, having the cameras makes me feel more anxious. It’s a contradiction that what should make me feel safer actually makes me feel less safe. It feels a bit like we’re tempting people to try to attack or somehow target us.
On the other hand, those stupid cameras, just like the high tech alarm system we have, also make me feel paranoid, like I might be a little crazy for thinking they’re necessary. But all I have to do is remember the night Jacques was held at gunpoint in his own home by a cop who didn’t believe he lived there, or the time a truck full of middle aged white guys sat in front of our house and stared for 15 minutes and I remember why we have all this blasted gadgetry.
