I wish I was white not because I think life would be easy, but because more things would become an option. Like the option of choosing or choosing not to play the Race Card. The spectrum of some people’s day to day realities would be an option for me. I could get into arguments and discussions and downplay what their culture means, stating the issue is above their culture. I could look down at them and wonder when they’re going to evolve and join mainstream society.
I wish I was white so I could push hard that it’s actually about Classism and not racism. Because then it becomes an issue that only happens to you when you’re poor and all you need to do is become rich and everything solves itself. I could also reference the odd time I have experienced a “Class” issue.
I wish I was white so I could celebrate a culture by wearing their regalia and do nothing to actually help the community. It’d be nice to rock a head dress or war paint or buckskin at a club or at home or a sports game. Because that’s how your people would want to be celebrated: Alcohol and/or Drugs on the dance floor or maybe just some Beer and Wings. I wish I was white so I could define what “integrate” and “appropriate” mean and then explain it to the group of people I offend.
I wish I was white because statistically speaking I’d have to deal with less suicide than I’ve encountered in my life. In fact my only connection or few connections would also include Robin Williams.
I wish I was White because I wouldn’t have to have an honest to God fear this might be the last time I see this Women in my Life (Any Indigenous Women; Mother, Daughter, Sister, Aunt, Cousin, Friend). I wish I didn’t have to live with the statistic that one Indigenous Female will disappear within the next 12 days. I wish I was white because the women I know that have been murdered might not have been or their killer(s) brought to justice. I would watch these women grow up and grow old. We wouldn’t have to live with this pain and loneliness.
I wish I was white so in regards to residential schools, I could tell my Mom and Dad to “get over it.” In those nights where the dreams and memories come haunting back, when the horrors come flooding in. And as they relive the Abuse, the Torture, The Rape? When they are in the Fear, the Anger and consumed by PTSD. I can hold their heads in my hands, look directly into their eyes and tell them to “get over it.” And just like that, like magic, it vanishes, all of what they had experienced they would never have to feel again.
Because in all truth they don’t want to be there anymore either….
But it’s PTSD and they may never get over it….
I wish I was white so I could say “get over it” to my other family members, my aunties, my uncles, my grandparents. I might have been able to cure their drug addiction, their alcoholism, the only places they could take refuge from not feeling anything anymore. I might have been able to save a few of their lives. I might have been about to stop them from killing themselves.
I wish I was white to say we’re not all like that.