When another white man kills more Black people or indigenous people or other people of color (BIPOC) and the news media makes it a national, dinnertime story, there’s this thing many well-meaning white people do. You reach out to the BIPOC people you know and tell us you’re sorry, this is terrible, you’re thinking about us, and are we okay? However well-intentioned these gestures are, they often do not land well on us.

If a Black person was murdered, you often text, email or otherwise message your Black friends, co-workers and colleagues. If it was an Asian American person, you tend to message your Asian American friends, co-workers and colleagues. Et cetera.

The problem is that these gestures often feel performative to us. They don’t feel like genuine concern for our well-being. They feel like attempts to prove that you aren’t racist.

Don’t Do This on a Zoom Chat

I was on a Zoom where one of very few people of color there expressed pain and anger about the recent killing of several Asian American women by a white man. For long minutes afterwards, the white people on the call used the chat function to say how sorry they were that such things happen and how terrible such things are. Some messages could be read by everyone on the Zoom; most were private. But what came across was their need to distinguish themselves from “the racists.” These messages did not come across as supportive. They came across as white guilt.

Here’s a rule of thumb to follow before you send such a message: pause and really think about why you’re sending it. Make sure it’s not a white guilt move by asking yourself: Will I feel better after I send this? Am I trying to make it clear to this person that I’m against racism? Do I want to show I’m different from other white people? And most importantly: Do I want a response?

Really consider that last question because if you send a text — at an extremely painful moment for us — that’s trying to start a dialogue, then you’re not giving. You’re taking. If there’s a question in there, you’re taking our attention when we probably need all our resources for ourselves. If you ask “Are you okay?” we can feel when you’re looking for a “yes” so you won’t feel so bad. Other questions mean you’re using us to educate yourself which you should do in another way (or at least at another time) or you’re trying to get us to indicate that we know you’re not bigoted, you’re good. A question is often the last thing we need when we’re going through the pain of yet another clear indication that this country still hates BIPOC communities.

“My Partner Is Asian”

One Zoom chat comment was “My partner is Asian.” This exemplifies one of the worst moves white people make. (I’ve received “My son-in-law is Mexican” and I’ve heard “My wife is Black.”) Such statements come across as an attempt to show that you can’t be racist because you have a close tie to someone who isn’t white. Worse, it sounds like you’re saying you know how we feel because you’re on the inside of the marginalized group in question (you’re not). Even worse, it sounds like you want our acceptance and trust before you’ve earned it.

You can’t shortcut earning someone’s trust by referring to a relationship you have with someone else. You have to earn our trust just like with anyone who doesn’t know you. I don’t know where many people got the impression that BIPOC communities will accept you as a safe, trustworthy ally as long as you have one of us in your family or in your bed or in your office or on your household staff.

Please think about your motivations before the next news cycle prompts you to reach out to whoever you know who matches the person who just got attacked or killed. A better gesture would be to send that outraged text to another white person to confirm that the most recent murder reflects a much bigger problem that all white Americans have a part in. But please don’t send us a message because if you don’t send one you’ll feel uncomfortable.

Originally published on Medium.com

21 March 2021