White People, Reply All
I am in an elevator, headed down at the end of the work day. I’m reading an all-agency email about a bomb threat to my building and the new safety and communication protocol my agency and the building managers are taking to inform and protect us. I’m worrying about the work I left undone, worrying about getting home, running from my office in the Aon Building to the “Blue Line” train at Dearborn and Washington. I join the parade of commuters on Randolph Street marching toward trains, busses, cars and eventually, home.
I put my Blackberry into my coat pocket and trot to the Blue Line, my mind jumbled with hurry, anticipation, worry. I have so much to do! My babies, my husband, my house, my job, my volunteer work, my bills.
Me. My. Mine.
Meanwhile, inside my pocket, my house keys, CTA card and Blackberry conspire against me. They take hold of the important and somber message I read in the elevator and write numerous all-agency reply emails of gibberish, nonsense, babble and they send out those emails again and again to every single person in the agency.
When I get to the train and settle in for a cozy zoom west, I pull out my Blackberry to discover what happened in my pocket.
My keys and CTA card wrote those emails. I didn’t want them to do that! I am embarrassed and scared. My first reaction is defensive—I wasn’t even unaware it was happening! Still, that communication came from my address. In my selfish distraction and hurry, I created the environment and I made it happen. And it happened again and again and again.
To the receiver, it doesn’t matter that I didn’t mean to send it out. It doesn’t matter that it happened without me knowing. It happened. I sent it. I am complicit.
White people, friends of mine, we don’t mean for certain things to happen. And yet they do. On our watch. Over and over again.
In our distraction and hurry, looking only at where we want to get next, for our family, for our lives, we not only allowed things to happen, we made them happen. We created the environment in which certain things happen and are likely to happen again.
Stop rushing. Stop doing things willy nilly. Slow down, pay attention and then act accordingly. This shit show won’t fix itself unless we organize and we make it stop.
Start here by reading this: White Fragility
Or this: Between the World and Me
Give here: My Block | My City | My Hood
