It’s a Privilege to Share

Last week I was asked by my company to share my personal experiences and response to the murder of George Floyd at the hands of the police at our company-wide meeting. My first thought was that I am in no way the right person for this. It’s such a huge responsibility and how can I, just another white person, possibly speak about how racism is so baked into our culture that we (as white people) only stop to notice it when our city is literally burning to the ground? I was so anxious about saying the wrong thing or coming across like I’m just another performative ally who is just checking this off my “to-do” list and calling it good.

I have had so many emotions of grief, fear, anger, helplessness, sadness, and guilt. I was so conflicted about sharing my story, but the more I thought about it, the more I started to move past my discomfort and began looking forward to sharing. What if even just one thing I say could resonate with someone who has never before thought or talked about white privilege? What if something I said could tell a different story than just what has been shown on major news outlets? I’ve been glued to my phone for more information, but have they? I started thinking of it as an amazing opportunity and spent days planning out what I was going to say.

At the last minute, the plan for the company-wide meeting changed and I didn’t get to speak. I was a tiny bit relieved about not having to present to an audience, but mostly I was disappointed. I vented my disappointment on my instagram stories, and several of my friends suggested I do a blog post instead.

So here we are, a few weeks after the murder of George Floyd (and the countless BIPOC who came before, and after him), and so much has happened it will be impossible for me to capture it all.

I want to acknowledge that talking about white privilege, Black Lives Matter, racism, and police brutality are polarizing topics. I have seen some of the most ignorant and hateful comments being posted on social media and I know that in writing this I’m opening myself up to be on the receiving end of some of those. But I also know that sharing my story is the literal least I can do as a white person who has not, and will never be, held back in life because of the color of my skin.

I’m not expecting everyone who reads this to agree with everything I say. I do, however, believe that we have to be open to having respectful conversations with people who have opposing beliefs. I think all anyone can do is make decisions based on the information they have and be open to listening to others. It’s important to stay curious, do your own research and be open to change, even if it’s painful.

The Minneapolis Riots

George Floyd was murdered by police in Minneapolis on Memorial Day, Monday, May 27th, 2020 for a suspected forgery at a local corner store, Cup Foods. I heard about it from friends on Facebook and I couldn’t bring myself to watch more than about 10 seconds of the video. We’ve all seen and heard so many stories like this one before, even in the Twin Cities, but I never could have predicted that this time would be the start of a worldwide uprising.

Maybe it was a perfect storm of events. So many people are out of work and cooped up from a global pandemic. There have been too many stories of BIPOC dying at the hands of the police, and this time, the entire thing was caught on video. You could see everything unfold, you could see Chauvin’s face as he slowly suffocated Floyd to death, and see how the other 3 officers just stood by and watch it happen. Within hours, Minneapolis city officials were calling it a murder.

It was the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back. The city fucking exploded in outrage. Soon followed by the rest of the world.

Remnants of Uncle Hugo’s Science Fiction book store after the riots

We live 3 blocks off of Lake Street in Minneapolis, the epicenter of where the first riots took place. Our house is just over a mile from the 3rd precinct, about 2 miles from the 5th precinct, and about 10 blocks from Cup Foods. We had floods of messages from friends and family members asking if we were OK and offering us places to stay.

Beer cans litter the ground of what remains of Minnehaha Liquors

We stayed up until the early hours of the morning every night watching the riots unfold via live stream from Unicorn Riot. We would hear a shot on screen and a second later hear it outside. There were non-stop bangs all night from a combination of the police shooting marker rounds and rubber bullets to the people setting off fireworks. When the fires were set to the Auto Zone and Wendy’s, we could see the glow over the neighborhood and smell smoke in the air.

The haze from the still burning fires at the Hi-Lake shopping center 5.29.20

It was beyond surreal to watch what was happening just blocks from our house, but not being close enough to see it ourselves. What was even harder was still trying to work every day and being even remotely functional or productive.

On the second night of protests, the people took over the 3rd precinct. The police just completely abandoned it due to safety concerns for everyone involved and I’ve never seen anything like that. All anyone could do was sit back and watch everything unfold. Rumors were flying rampant about who was even responsible for setting the fires as the community started to suspect that only a small percentage were BLM protesters and the rest were people from out of state looking to fuck shit up.

But in all honesty, I don’t want to focus too much on the damage that happened those first few nights. It seemed like all the major news outlets only wanted to focus on the looting and the buildings that were being burned down, and not WHY they were burned down. To me, it felt like the media was making the riots the story, not the fact that a man had been suffocated to death by police.

When I finally did get a chance to walk down Lake Street after those first few nights, it was extremely emotional. You can be simultaneously upset at losing some of your favorite neighborhood establishments and outraged at the injustice that BIPOC have suffered since we (white people) introduced slavery. Not to mention, also feeling unbelievably guilty knowing that by not doing more, we’ve all played a part in the death of George Floyd and the countless victims before him.

The looting and damage were very disruptive, but it got the world’s attention and it changed the narrative about the mistreatment of marginalized groups for the first time in our generation’s lifetime. I want to stress that the damage isn’t a spectacle and it’s not a fucking tourist destination. It’s the physical manifestation of a movement that has been building long before any of us were born. It’s a fucking wake-up call.

On Our Own

After the 3rd Precinct was abandoned by police, we as a neighborhood were completely on our own. Fire trucks couldn’t get anywhere because there were so many people on the streets. If there had been a fire that either spread or was intentionally set to anyone’s house, we were left to just figure it the fuck out.

Can you even imagine? If you grew up out in the sticks or on a farm, that probably isn’t such a novel idea. But to everyone who has ever only lived in a city, and literally just blocks from a fire station, the idea that we collectively just need to fend for ourselves is slightly terrifying.

By this point, rumors were running rampant about who were setting these fires. We heard on the news that 100% of the people who were arrested in St. Paul were from out of state on the 2nd night of riots. We heard from the community that this was all organized by white nationalists, a.k.a fucking Nazi’s, who were using sophisticated tactics to escalate the unrest and to discredit the message of Black Lives Matter.

Social media was blowing up with photos of white men in trucks driving around without license plates. People were sharing that they knew someone who knew someone who found incendiary devices like gasoline cans hidden in their bushes. People were getting hand-written death threat notes left at their front doors because they had Black Lives Matter signs in their yard.

It was fucking chaos.

Neighbors gather to hear safety measures from community leaders in South Minneapolis

My neighborhood gathering supplies in case of fire

The weekend after George Floyd was killed, our neighborhood got together to have an emergency meeting about setting up a neighborhood watch. News was spreading by word of mouth, neighbor to neighbor, informing each other on what to do. We were told to prepare by having buckets of water ready, to hose down our fences and to remove anything flammable out of the alleys. We were told not to wear any clothing that could melt to your skin if you were in a fire. We were told to check the bushes, parked cars, behind garages, and anywhere else hidden for anything suspicious. We were told to have a go-bag ready in case we needed to get out in a hurry. We took down each other’s phone numbers and joined a group WeChat in case anyone needed help.

My husband and I took preparations in case of fire on our residential street

In the few short days leading up to the first weekend in June, I was tired and emotional from everything that had happened. But I was genuinely terrified at the thought that I might have to fight off a FUCKING NAZI to save my house or my neighbors house from being set on fire.

But as absolutely awful as that thought was, it was important for me to stay. I wanted to be here to help, it felt like the literal least I could do. If those of us who have our own cars and just collectively abandoned the rest, how could I possibly say that I am an ally? How would you feel knowing that your neighbors were killed because you couldn’t be bothered to grab a bucket of water to help them? I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.

We don’t have kids and I know that if we did my first concern would’ve been their safety. Some of our next door neighbors either left with their children or sent them to Grandma’s house which is completely understandable! I would in no way want to shame anyone who did leave, if anything, it was even more of a reason for me to stay and help in anyway that I could.

Neighbors started blocking off the streets with construction equipment that had been around since the first days of spring. A few of them guarded the intersections all night, checking each car that was trying to get through. My phone was blowing up every second as people collectively lost their God damn minds and paranoia ran rampant, sending out vague and unhelpful updates like, “I saw a guy on the street!” It was exhausting.

My husband and I stayed up all week until about 5 or 6am. That weekend, we got on a zoom calls each night with other friends who lived throughout S. Minneapolis and in St. Paul so that we could keep each other company and just be there for each other emotionally.

The city instituted an 8pm curfew to help deter more damage, and as the Governor put it, help single out the “bad” protesters from the peaceful ones. Freeways going out of the city were locked down, some nights even before the curfew, so even if we wanted to get out, we couldn’t.

To say those first few days were chaotic, exhausting, and overwhelming is putting it lightly. But through all of it, I also knew that going one week without sleep is nothing compared to the mistreatment BIPOC have endured their entire lives. I didn’t take any time off from work because I know that since the start of the pandemic I am fucking LUCKY to even still have a job, and how could I possibly ask for a few days off because I’m tired when other people are literally afraid for their lives. I didn’t want or need any pity.

I just think it’s so important to share that through a few long bad nights, my neighborhood and community came together to help each other. A group of Native elders stopped a group of white teens from Wisconsin from looting. One of my husband’s friends chased off people trying to burn down the Midtown Exchange building, a place that has hundreds of families living above the businesses on the ground floor. People I didn’t even know were offering to help save my house if it came to it, and I gladly offered the same for them.

The Good Stuff

There are countless stories of all the ugly and terrible things that have happened worldwide in the few weeks since George Floyd was murdered by police. But there have also been some really amazing, beautiful things that have happened and that’s what I want to share.

The Grease Pit on 28th and Bloomington organized a daily food drop-off

The first chance that I got to walk down Lake Street after the first couple of nights of riots, I was overwhelmed by the sheer amount of people out there helping in any way they could. There were food donations on almost every block, people walking by with brooms and garbage bags to help clean up, peaceful protests and demonstrations, people blessing each other with sage and murals being painted. No one asked for this to happen, people just inherently knew what they needed to do and it all just happened organically.

Two women help clean out debris from Hi-Lake train station in S. Minneapolis

Peaceful protest gathers at Hi-Lake bride in S. Minneapolis

I talked with people on the street and cried A LOT as I took it all in. I heard from my neighbors that the community had secured the only hotel in the area as a safe haven for the homeless and was handled completely through volunteers and the public’s donations.

The was an absolute outpouring of donations to tons of businesses and organizations to aid in the recovery of not only the buildings that were lost, but also to the MN Freedom Fund, to George Floyd’s Family, for Native community centers, and so much more.

I personally donated to several organizations including Lake Street Council, Reclaim the Block and Northside Funders Group as well as giving money to friends I knew who were doing supply runs for food drop-offs.

Businesses that had little to no damage have started to open up again. I admit that I’ve taken my proximity to some of the best, most authentic Mexican food in Minneapolis for granted. Sometimes you don’t realize what you have until it’s in danger or until it’s gone. I’ve had my own wake-up call about that and plan to do a hell of a lot more exploring (and eating!) in my own neighborhood going forward.

I recently tried MiCasa Mexican Kitchen on Lake Street for the first time, and it was so delicious! Their menu ranges from street food to full entrees, the interior is bright and cheerful and the tacos were some of the best I’ve had!

Sacred Space

I participated in a couple of peaceful marches down Chicago avenue to Cup Foods to pay my respects and to stand in solidarity with Black Lives Matter. For me, it marching wasn’t even planned. I just happened to be at the right intersection when the protest came through, so without giving it a second thought, I jumped in to join. I talked with some of the people around me about everything that had happened and why we were all there. After months of social isolation, it was such a wonderful feeling to connect with other humans. It was so emotional and so powerful.

The corner at Cup Foods has turned into a sacred space for people to mourn, to protest, and to come together as a community. Every day more murals, signs, flowers, and chalk drawings are added. Names of other victims were painted on the street. Nearby stores have started to open up and there is food on every corner. I watched as people watered the flowers to help keep them alive.

The site is a memorial, a movement and a celebration all in one. Its a place to connect with the people, to reflect on how we got here and a symbol for why things need to change going forward.

Going Forward

So what was it all for? What has happened since the murder of George Floyd? I can’t possibly name everything that has happened, but here are some to name a few.

All 4 police officers responsible for the death of George Floyd were immediately fired and are facing criminal charges.
The protests that started in Minneapolis spread to all 50 states and across the world, bringing awareness to the injustice BIPOC have faced on a scale we’ve never seen before.
Minneapolis, Chicago, Washington, Atlanta, Denver and countless other cities and states have banned police from using choke holds
Several corporations, businesses, venues, schools and park boards in Minneapolis have cut their ties with the Minneapolis Police Department
Companies that have never addressed their lack of diversity and/or inherit racist work cultures are taking the initiative to dismantle systemic racism and committing to doing better on public platforms. As more people demand accountability, CEOs and leaders across various industries are stepping down following the backlash such as CrossFit, Bando, and Bon Appetit to name a few. People are more interested than ever on how brands have conducted themselves in the past and how they plan to respond going forward. In a recent survey, 60% of American consumers said that how a brand responds over the next several weeks to the protests against racial injustice will influence whether they buy or boycott them in the future.
Arrest warrants for the 2 police officers responsible for the death of Rayshard Brooks have been issued, after shooting him in the back at a Wendy’s parking lot. I can say with near certainty that a month ago, many of us may never have even heard the story about Rayshard, let alone would the officers involved be facing charges.
T.V shows and movies that are inherently racists are being pulled from major streaming services
Some corporations like Target and US Bank are recognizing Juneteenth as a company holiday
A giant Black Lives Matter was painted on the road leading up to the white house
The supreme court blocked Trump from ending DACA

I said in my last blog post that I’m not really sure where to go from here, but all I know is that this is a chance to do something new. I don’t and won’t have all the answers. It’s all of our responsibility to continue to educate ourselves, to listen to Black leaders, and to check our prejudiced beliefs for the rest of our lives. I’m never going to be the loudest person in the room, or quit my life and become an activist. But I can make changes going forward by continuing to have real-life conversations with friends and family, support BIPOC business both locally and while traveling, and vote for the leaders who can institute actual change. The personal work doesn’t just stop when the hashtags are no longer trending.

Learn more on how you can support black own small businesses from Finimpact.