Wednesday, February 19, 2014

Centering Anti-Racism, by Ib Grace

Now, when people call me "crazy" or the R word, I am proud of it, because solidarity, and also actually nobody knows what autism is. I can relate to both intellectual and mental disability. It's kind of physical, too. There's pain a lot. I fall upstairs, trip on nothing and break myself. Plus I'm a queer woman. So I can relate to a lot of things.

Nothing about any of this will ever make me know what it is like to worry every day that someone will hatefully take it upon themselves to murder my precious babies just because of the color of their skin. Nobody should be able to relate to this. It is unconscionable. But Black mothers know, and this is a lot of our friends, and when they try to talk about it, I cannot just sit there and think to myself, 'but that's not me though,' or be all "gun control ok bye."

Deep, committed solidarity, love and respect for racialized minorities. I need to learn to do more. For me, it starts now, in this intersection, for all the world and everybody's babies.

Here is my friend Kerima's post, which inspired this awakening. It hurts to read it. I will always be grateful that I read it. Another such breathtaking must-read post by a writer I admire but do not personally know is linked here.

Thanks for listening.

Love, Ib


  1. Yes. Acknowledging the horror and the pain of knowing, I find comfort in the music of Sweet Honey in the Rock's Ella's Song
    "We who believe in freedom cannot rest
    We who believe in freedom cannot rest until it comes

    Until the killing of black men, black mothers' sons
    Is as important as the killing of white men, white mothers' sons"

    Thank you, Ibby, for reminding us.

  2. Great post. I can't relate to racial violence either, beign white, but I can sympathize wiht the black community. I think it's importnt that we center the voices of black people (and other racial minority people) when it coems to racial violence. They have collective experience that white people like me don't have, even if, being disabled, we know what it is like to have our kind murdered.

  3. I love you, Ibby. This is a conversation we all have to have - especially those of us who are white. It is a different conversation than black people will have with their kids and family - but ours is just as important. To acknowledge the privilege that we are born with because of our skin color. To acknowledge the reality of racism that exists and continues. And what we can all do about it. <3