Tara Brach - A Courageous Presence with Racism (2020-06-03)

Episode Date: June 5, 2020

A Courageous Presence with Racism (2020-06-03) - Anti-Black racism is the core wound of American culture, and we each have a role to play in fighting racism, a medicine to bring to these times. This talk explores how we can offer an honest and courageous presence to key domains of this suffering. We then look at affirming that Black lives truly matter with our dedicated and wise action. 

Greetings. We offer these podcasts freely and your support really makes a difference. To make a donation, please visit tarabrock.com. Namaste and welcome. So I want to thank you for being part of this weekly talk and reflection. And as many are acutely aware, we're gathered right now and there's in these moments continual protests in the streets ignited by the brutal murder of George Floyd, unarmed black man by white policemen. And as we know, the protests are about a world more than the tragedy of the particular killing last week. They're really about

centuries of violence against indigenous, black, and brown bodies, hearts and minds. William Faulkner said, the past is not dead, it's not even past. And I think this really applies. And in particular, anti-black racism is the core wound of the American culture. And people are protesting now, and some violently, as we know, because the trauma of the suffering just keeps going.

In one picture I saw a protest Tampa, Florida, a five-year-old sign said, a black boy said, stop killing us. Stop killing us. Martin Luther King said, a riot is the language of the unheard. As long as America postpones justice, we stand in the position of having these reoccurrences of violence and riots over and over again. So, my friends, I start like this because it feels like a crucial inquiry for us is what will end racial violence and oppression. And I believe we each have a role to play in fighting racism.

We each have a medicine to bring to these times, each one of us, and it matters that we bring it forth. It matters that we respond wisely. now. So this is what we'll be exploring together. And I'd like to acknowledge in this talk, I'm speaking as a white woman and like everyone in a racist society, I'm having to uncover my own racism. I'm still in process. So I want to name that and I'm aware that while many of you joining me are white, I'm also grateful to know that many of you are black and brown and there are indigenous people and I ask your forgiveness. I wanted to start this way on purpose

for any lack of understanding or sensitivity I might express. I want to also name that this is one of the hardest talks of my life. And I think for most of us, some expressions of suffering penetrate more deeply or more regularly than others. And for me, racism is like that. I care so much. Black lives really matter, truly. So these last days, watching that video of George Floyd's murder and just the sense of the heartbreak of yet another, it's been crushing. It's been heartbreaking. On a Zoom call with one of my black friends, I was so struck, this is what stood out, her tiredness. It was this kind of exhaustion or despair, the dailiness of violence against her people.

It's tiredness and exhaustion. I've been in touch with others who feel devastated, anger, grief, everything you can think of, the whole range, and call to act. I have friends on the streets yesterday in D.C. telling me, you know, this is a This was when the president called in the police and the National Guard to shoot tear gas and flash grenades into a peaceful crowd. He was clearing his way to pose in front of a church. And one friend filled with this fear and agitation about what's going to happen and said,

we have to be in the streets to save our lives. Will the president deploy military force against us? So we're asking ourselves. and this is kind of collective. I'm joining you and you're joining me in this inquiry. What are some ways that we can deepen our attention so we can respond wisely to the suffering of racism? And in my reflecting, the first step is really the message of start right where you are

with a willingness to open to just what you're feeling right now. You know, the friend I mentioned who was so tired, she's a black teacher, leader, very powerful woman, and she's saying, you know, of course I'll respond and soon, but first I'm pausing, so I can just feel what's here. And I just want to note for her dedicated activist, that's not months of cave time, but it's knowing that for her to be her best, to be that medicine, she needed to pause. pause and get in touch and how we're so quick to strategize or fix that we can skip over really connecting inwardly and then we just react from habit we're driven by avoidance or fear so

in that spirit even in this talk we're going to do several reflections but the first one I'd like to pause right here right at the beginning and ask you to close your eyes, if you will, and to feel yourself here. And if you don't feel here, invite yourself. Just say, come back. Be here. Touch into the realness. And with this intention to be very gentle and with curiosity, sense how these recent events, this trauma of racism that's been so exposed,

in terms of our collective psyche yet again, how is that impacting you? Maybe you're feeling hurting and raw. Maybe there's anger or rage or like my friend tiredness, despair, maybe there's hopelessness. Maybe you feel numb, not so connected. Don't make anything wrong. This is just an honest check-in. Maybe there's guilt. Maybe there's something else compelling going on in your life and it's just this isn't the focus of your attention, something else is. What are the feelings right now that most ask for your acceptance? And can you be a compassionate witness to what's inside you? Just not making it wrong.

One friend says we think not our own thoughts but society's thoughts and we're feeling our society's feelings and there's a whole range of them. not to make it wrong, to offer a compassionate witness, a compassionate witnessing to what's right here. Taking a few breaths if you'd like and opening your eyes if you'd like. So this is the first step, always and we have to keep coming back to it again and again, to keep pausing and honestly acknowledging just what's real inside us. We can't move to the second step, which is attending to those who are most vulnerable, most threatened if we haven't connected inwardly and acknowledged what's here.

We're just not going to have the presence that can see. So the second step, we are being called in these times to really look deeply at the pain that's around us. And here I'm particularly addressing those of us who are white because if you're listening and you're black, our person of color, brown, indigenous, you may feel absolutely overwhelmed by the suffering of oppression. And to white people, we can't feel exactly what black people are feeling right now, but we can accompany black people.

We can bring our presence and commit ourselves. is seeking to understand, seeking to feel with. I'll share the last Saturday during our weekly satsong. That's the gathering offer online for people that want to explore their questions. One woman spoke. She's born in Nigeria now in the United States, and she was talking about how hard it is to just hold the magnitude of the violence. the horror of the violence against black people here.

And she shared an African proverb that I wanted to share with you. And it goes like this. It says, the child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth. I'm going to say that again. The child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel the warmth. So this has been an important part of my reflecting, and I'd like to invite you to join me in that. In our shared village, at least for Americans, for over 400 years in this village, people have been, black people have been enslaved, demeaned, exploited, imprisoned, and lynched.

They are the tormented child. And we know this, at least conceptually, to the white, white race, black lives have not mattered, expendable. So to relate to this, I mean, how do we relate to this? How do we really let that in? How that continues today? And one of the ways is we can reflect how in our own lives we felt rejected from the village. Some of you may be listening and know that either in your family or in your social circles,

you are living with a sense of not feeling loved, not feeling accepted or respected. Each of us at some time has felt rejected, marginalized, not okay. Some of you have felt really unsafe. Some of you grew up in situations and know the feeling of being truly threatened, shame, physically violated. And if you're not black, some of us are browned. indigenous or belong to religious groups that have been violated for generations. We know the feeling of the child that's been pushed away. We each know it somewhere in our psyche. So can we pause and remind ourselves of where we know about that?

What has it been like for you to feel not belonging, to feel disliked, to feel feel hated, to feel unsafe with others. There's a place in us that knows. We know from every vantage point of the village, and we know how natural it is when you feel like your life doesn't matter to someone else, the feeling of hurt and rage to seek your human needs, to meet them. And sometimes we react through blame and aggression, sometimes violent aggression. We each have that capacity in our nervous system, it's built into us. And, as many of you know, when we feel rejected, unlovable, and violated, we often burn ourselves in self-hate as part of the process. We hate those that make us feel unlovable, but some part of us believes it that we're not

okay. So what we're exploring here in this second step, is ways we can stretch and seek to understand. And you might imagine, and this is for you who are white, would you want to be black, treated in this society as black people are? Can you imagine being anxious daily about your teen every time they go out? Will they come back? Will they be killed? Will they end up in prison?

because so many mothers have to live with the truth that their teen is at great risk of being killed, are injured, being put in prison. About six years ago, I participated in a vigil of grieving mothers, grieving the death of unarmed black men in the street, and just bearing witness to that, and then imagining, wow, what would it be like? Could you imagine that? Having to be grieving because your unarmed child was

brutally murdered by the police? Can you imagine it? It's hard to go close to. And more broadly, can you imagine daily being viewed as inferior as potentially a criminal or as too angry or as dangerous? So this is the second step. We stretch ourselves. off to attend where this pain, woundedness, incredible injury of not belonging lives in black people in the village. Because the truth is our heart holds the village. We are holding the whole village. We can't be awake and whole if a child in our heart is hurting. So we deepen our attention. The third step, just as we've all been harmed by the village, because we have, the toxicity of our culture harms all of us. And just as we can attune to those who are most

horrifically harmed, because we're part of the village, we participate in the harming. So the third step of deepening attention is the courage to face this truth. And this is really, really difficult for many in the white race. So here I speak again as a white woman to white people. The legacy of racism is not our personal fault. But we carry its poison in this unseen assumption of the black inferiority. Unless we examine ourselves, we will not be conscious of it. And daily, we reap the benefits of the centuries of violation. And that's what's meant by white privilege.

It's how we have this unearned privilege of being able to have access to the best jobs, the best homes, the best education, the best health care and justice. It's white privilege that so many whites will make it through this pandemic, possibly, we'll see, but it's likely, without dying, most of us will not die, most of us will not be financially devastated, but black Americans are and will be. That's privilege. That's the benefit of the centuries of exploitation. And I'd say perhaps the deepest expression of white privilege is that a part of our village, is hurting and they're forced to try to save their lives and for white people responding to this pain feels optional. We may care, we may do some things, but it feels optional. We forget that this is

a child in our heart. Many of you perhaps saw what Barack Obama wrote last week. He quoted a friend of his. It was very powerful. Here's the quote. The knee on the neck is a metaphor for how the system so cavalierly holds black folks down ignoring the cries for help. People don't care. It's truly tragic. A friend of mine in Oakland was describing a gathering she was part of and there was what she called the howl and it was a weeping and wailing chant, Black Lives Matter. And she described just the chant going over and over again and how people were sobbing as they were chanting. And of course that got me crying.

You know, it's like this asking the world to believe and know black lives matter. For white people, knowing our part as a race in causing harm, how do we hold it? And I invite you to look at that in yourself. How do you process that if you're white being part of a race that has caused so much horrific suffering? I mean, do we feel guilty or shamed? Do we feel angry because we feel like, well, I didn't do it personally? That's called white fragility. Do we blame people of color for being reactive or overreactive?

You're too angry. You're too hostile. Now you're rioting. Do we cut off? Do we get numb? Or do we just live with that experience? Well, I've been wounded too. I've heard this. This has been called the Oppression Olympics. And the truth is there's huge intersectionality that many groups are oppressed, that the society creates incredible poison and harm for many of us. But the truth is that no group in America faces the same

murderous type treatment as the black community, taking their lives, their bodies, their respect. So I don't think we can examine racism and white privilege on our own. There's too many ways that it feels dangerous or we don't want to be with it or we can't really look. I think we need each other. We really need to be with other white people just as people of color need safe affinity groups, containers to help unpack their suffering. Just a bit of personal sharing here. I did some years back, a year-long group with people on white awareness, a white group. It was one of the biggest wake-ups of my life really toward, it was a painful process towards feeling more whole, more like I really belonged to the village because my heart was opening

to the child I hadn't been paying attention to quite in the way that I needed to. Sometime after, I began a three-year group. It was a mixed-race group where we were exploring racism and really in a deep process of getting to know each other, building trust. And for the first bunch of months, I felt anxious and self-conscious and completely unnatural. Like I was inside, I was tied up in knots.

I just could not, there was no spontaneating, hard for me to really listen or be real. I felt unreal. And then I got it, okay, white guilt. And as a teacher and leader in my community, I think underneath it was a sense that I can never possibly do enough to make up for this suffering. So I brought Rain, that practice of mindfulness and compassion to what I was feeling and I recognized and allowed it. and with the investigation, that belief that I'm failing, I'm never enough, and sensing how pervasive that was and bringing a lot of nurturing to that. And the real message to myself from my high self or my wake heart was, trust your caring. And what was so interesting

is that by working with that guilt, waking up from the guilt, it actually deepened my realness with others in the group and also my dedication, the sense of really fighting racism. So it was a sense of it's not my fault and yet I can be responsible, I can respond. So the point that I'm hoping to explore with you is that it really takes intention to take off the blinders and wake up to the racism in us all. It's society's racism. It's like fish and water. We're breathing that air. Scott Woods, a writer, who puts it this way. He says racism is a thing you have to keep scooping out of the boat of your life to keep from drowning in it. I know it's hard work, but it's the price you pay for owning everything. It's pretty powerful.

Let's reflect together again. Okay, my friends, if you will, to close your eyes. Invite yourself here, arriving, breathing, and in whatever way works for you, sense yourself belonging to the village. And I'm speaking Americans in the history of black people in America, but we're really talking about our world and the cries of those that have been held down.

Different parts of the world, it might be a different religion or race that has the knee to the neck, but it happens everywhere. Again, be the compassionate witness. Not to take personally, to face truth. If you take it personally, you'll close down. So just examining some of these questions. How have your internalized beliefs in some way of being superior that the other, and in this case, the black person is inferior. How has that made you complicit in

perpetuating racism? If you're black, how of believing the messages of inferiority kept you in a prison of suffering? For those of privilege, how have the societal habits of privilege staying in a kind of social cocoon where you're mostly with people of your same class and race perhaps how has it stopped you from listening to the cries what has stopped you from listening to the cries what might help you listen more deeply to the cries as we explore this evening together we really are looking at how a courageous presence is only possible if we put aside the judgment We can't get to healing unless we get to the truth of what's happening inside and around us. Can we feel what we're feeling?

Can we stretch and sense what others are experiencing? Can we have the courage to look at our own part, our own contribution, our way of participating? This is the Buddha's first and second noble truth, recognizing the suffering and its causes. So we've talked about these three steps, the third seeing our conditioning, our own conditioning to perpetuate the harm. The last step I'd like to talk about is responding. And there's no way to do this adequately. I'm just going to name some things, but I want to share a story before we close that's

really touched me. But before that, let me just say that Angela Davis writes that it's not enough not to be racist. You need to be anti-racist. That's active. Menda hearts, the author writes, lean into your courage and push aside your caution. No one benefits when allies are cautious. So taking the wisdom of these two women, there are many ways we can each move forward. And each of you is going to bring your own medicine in your own way. But what's important is your intention to engage, your intention to engage, not to wait. And one thing that many white people have found helpful is to join the organization's surge. It's called showing up for racial justice.

To advocate justice for George Floyd. To help support the work of black-led groups like Black Lives Matters, groups that are fighting for police accountability and social justice. Join rallies or stay at the edges and be the physical barrier between protesters and police. Speak up when you see police brutality. Vote. And when you go to the polls, select leaders at every level, not based on party but purpose. Are they dedicated to equity and racial justice? Last week at the satsung, at that QA on Saturday, another African-American friend attending,

he's also a preacher and a psychologist, he wrote a powerful call to action. He said, to my white brothers and sisters, helplessness is not an option. Our society has the virus of white supremacy built into every strand of its being. The thing you can do, address the strands that intersect your life. life. Go to the mat with your racist and racialist family friends community. Confront your wonderful, innocent grandmother who doesn't understand what all the fuss is about those black people. Challenger, otherwise loving and supportive brother who doesn't see the big deal with Trump. Disrupt dinners that would be otherwise peaceful because you don't talk politics. We need to act because we are part of the village.

We need to save and serve all of our lives. Martin Luther King says, our lives begin to end the day we become silent about the things that matter. When we stop being silent, there really is this deep goodness that we feel. It's really an alignment that we're moving toward wholeness, being who we really are. And then we can bring our care and sincerity to acting for justice. Now I wanted to close this way that it's a bit of a, it's an amazing story that touched me, but what made me want to share it is that I've been following this ongoing memorial service on the site where George Floyd was murdered, where people from different races are gathering,

it's peaceful with candles and prayers, and there's a sharing of food, and a remembering. There's something about remembering and caring that really nourishes our spirit. And you can feel this kind of soul nourishment in the story told by social justice activist Brian Stevenson. He says, we've been doing this thing where we have people go to lynching sites and we have them collect soil from the lynching site and put it in a jar. And in our museum, we have hundreds of these jars of soil that were collected from lynching sites. And we have the name of the lynching victim and have the date. of the lynching. And it's been really powerful to give people an opportunity to do something tangible, to do something redemptive, to do something restorative. And people come and they go to these places,

we give them a memo, and it's really powerful. We had a middle-aged black woman come to one of our events, and she was nervous about going to the lynching site by herself, but she was fired up, and we gave her the jar, and we gave her the memo, and she went out to this lynching site, pretty remote area. She got really nervous, but she decided to do it. So she went to the place where the lynching took place. She was about to start digging when a truck drove by. And there was this white man on the truck who slowed down and stared at her. And then she said the truck stopped and turned around and drove back. And the man stared at her some more. And then it stopped. And then this big white guy got out and started walking towards her. And she was very nervous.

Now, we tell people you don't have to explain what you're doing. If you want to say you're just getting dirt for your garden, feel free to say that. And that's what she intended to do. But when this white man walked up to her and he said, what are you doing? She said something got hold of me. And I turned to that man and I said, I'm digging soil because this is where a black man was lynched in 1931 and I'm going to honor his life. And then the man stood there and said, paper talk about the lynching? And she said, yes. And he said, can I read it? She gave the man the paper, and he stood there reading while she was digging. And then he put the paper down and stunned her by asking, would it be okay if I helped you? And then she told me that this white man got on his

knees, and he started throwing his hands into the soil with such force. And his hands were getting coated with black soil, and they were turning black, and he was putting them in the jar. He kept throwing his hands and it moved her. And she said, the next thing she knew, she had tears running down her face. And he stopped and said, oh, I'm sorry, I'm upsetting you. And she said, no, no, no, you're blessing me. And they kept putting soil in the jar. And they got the jar almost full. And she noticed toward the end that the man was slowing down and his shoulders were shaking. And she turned and she looked. And she saw the man had tears running down his feet. And she saw the man had tears running down his face and she stopped. And she put her hand on this man's shoulder and she said,

are you all right? And that's when the man said to her, no, I'm just so worried that it might have been my grandparents that were involved in lynching this man. And she said they both sat there with tears running down their face. At the end of it, he stood up and said, I want to take a picture of you holding the jar. And she said, I want to take a picture of you holding the jar. And and they both took pictures, and she brought this man back, and they put that jar on our exhibit together. Now, beautiful things like that don't always happen when you tell the truth about history,

when you try to actually look for redemption and restoration, when you have every reason to be afraid and angry. But until we commit to some acts like that, until we tell the truth, we deny ourselves the beauty of redemption, the beauty of redemption, the beauty of, of restoration. Each one of us has a medicine to bring to these times. Each one of us can put our hands in the soil and participate. It's about courageous presence, telling the truth about

ourselves, seeing the truth and others, and creating a village that really embraces and create safety for all its children, the world that we believe in. So let's close together. Last time I'm going to ask you to pause and shut your eyes, if you will, take a few breaths. Opening yourself to the truth of this moment. What's happening inside you right now? Can you let it be just as it is? Compassionate witness, present with what's here,

widening the lens and sensing others, others who are listening, those who are caring and those who feel cut off, widening to include those who we know are most vulnerable, those black lives that matter so much. We close with a simple prayer. May all beings feel held in loving presence. May all feel embraced by their village of belonging. May all beings touch great and natural peace.

May all beings everywhere find healing and justice, love, and freedom. Thank you, friends, for your presence, and I hope to be together again next week. Blessings. For more talks and meditations, and to learn about my schedule or join my email list, please visit tarabrock.com.