Transcriber: Leonardo Silva Reviewer: Ellen Maloney
Let's start with a story.
I was working at a small office for a summer job.
One day, we had a company lunch and guests were invited,
some of whom were children.
As I sit down, this little girl - she can't be older than 12 -
says to me, "You remind me a lot of my friend! She's sassy too."
(Laughter)
Mind you, I had just sat down with my lunch, had never met this child,
and was about to indulge in a buttery breadstick being provided by the company.
I look at her, breadstick in hand, slightly puzzled,
but all too familiar with what was about to ensue.
The hairs on the back of my neck began to rise,
my chest and my ears felt warm, acid slowly seeped into my stomach,
and I knew I was on the receiving end of a microaggression from a 12-year-old.
Now, before I continue this story, we must ask, "What is a microaggression?"
If you are unfamiliar,
the term was first coined by Harvard professor and psychiatrist Chester Pierce
to describe the subtle, stunning and often automatic exchanges which are put-downs.
For example, if you ask a woman, "Why aren't you smiling,"
the underlying assumption is that women should always be feminine,
so they should always be welcoming and chipper.
Microaggression.
Racial microaggressions are described as daily commonplace indignities,
which are often unconscious,
thus making them more difficult to identify.
So, with that in mind, let's rewind.
I asked the girl,
"I remind you of your friend because she's sassy?"
She bounces in her chair as she replies,
"Well, she's just kind of bossy,
and she walks like a diva, you know, like you!"
(Laughter)
Now, she must have sensed that I was not quite making the connection.
So, she adds, "And - she has hair like you."
I guess at this point I kind of gave her a blank stare,
and I thought to myself,
"Huh, usually when I'm being compared to other black women,
my hair is the firs thing that comes up."
Now, when my colleagues realized what was going on,
they exchanged awkward smiles and avoided my eyes.
I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little bit upset,
which sounds ridiculous, I know!
I mean, she's a kid! She doesn't know what she's doing.
And I was upset because she already had this picture in her head about who I am
because she already had this picture in her head about who black women are:
the walk, the sass, the snap, the hair.
She made an automatic, unconscious assumption about my personality
without me even having to speak.
So, I know this interaction may seem benign, right?
An innocuous comment from a kid, it's harmless.
But, earlier that week, two colleagues tried to pat my hair,
another one decided to tell me about how racist her parents are
and about the most colored there is where she's from is just a redhead.
It was awkward enough being the only black employee at the office.
It was even more awkward when my blackness was such a distraction
it was regularly cause for conversation.
I remember thinking about it like this at the time:
one droplet of water is nothing;
if it hit's you, it might go unnoticed;
so, in life, if you experience one microaggression,
it's likely to slip under the radar;
but when one droplet of water combines with billions of others drops
to create this wave of unconscious discrimination,
it starts to feel like you're drowning, it can pull you under.
So, maybe it was the week's culmination of droplets
that made this girl's comments pull me under,
but that's the thing about racial microaggressions.
They build.
I remember telling a friend of mine about what happened.
He laughed and said, "Oh, please! You're used to microaggressions.
You'll get over it."
Admittedly, I'm used to microaggressions,
and I did, in fact, get over it,
but him disregarding my feelings by saying "You'll get over it"
didn't make the situation any easier.
We've been there, I'm sure.
Well, maybe I'm not sure you know what it's like
to have a child tell you you remind them of their bossy, sassy, diva friend,
but, all the same, we've experienced those automatic, unconscious put-downs
felt upset, and then know what it feels like
for someone to tell us we shouldn't feel upset, right?
I know, for me, I experienced racial microaggressions on the daily,
and I am told I need to chill out on the daily.
I actually remember one of the very first times
someone has ever asked if they could touch my hair.
I said, "Okay ... huh, huh ..."
And, after she's done patting me,
she wipes her hands on her pants and says,
"Ew! It just feels so weird!"
I remember this other time this lady says to me,
"Wow! I never would have guessed you're -
I never would have guessed you're from a black neighborhood!
You're just so articulate!"
Real story!
I remember this other time I was listing off my siblings,
"I am QueenTara, my oldest brother is Filandus.
My youngest siblings are Robin, Justin and Bryson,"
to which someone replies,
"Oh, so, like, you and your older bother got the ghetto names,
and the young ones got the real names?"
Aargh!
There's a moment in particular
I remember my head slowly cocking to the side like this,
and my friend says to me,
"Oh, come on, you know that's how some people are.
It's not a big deal."
But my favorite one is when I'm traveling and I tell people I'm from Nebraska,
to which they reply, "Wow!"
(Laughter)
"There's black people in Nebraska?"
(Audience) Oh!
"Yep, yep, there's black people in Nebraska.
There's like eight of us, we're all cousins,
we all live on the same block. Come visit!"
(Laughter)
It's so easy to look back at those memories now and laugh
because they're funny!
But they only became funny once they became a memory.
In the meantime, however, I'm left feeling like
your stereotypical, sassy black girl, with gross hair, a ghetto name,
and an address that doesn't house people that look like me.
Out of place.
I felt out of place before I could turn these experiences into funny stories.
Studies show that, for anyone, being the victim of a microaggression
can lead to immediate distress, worry, anger and confusion.
But, for people of color, who experience daily racial microaggressions,
they can have long-term mental effects often in the form of depression.
Subtle racism takes a physical toll on our bodies.
In fact, studies have directly linked racism
to the reason black mothers have low-birth-weight babies.
Microaggressions are indicative of implicit biases.
Implicit biases are also unconscious.
They're the judgments we make based on our deepest feelings and emotions.
For example, studies show implicit biases will lead doctors
to prescribe less medication for a black patient
than they would for a white patient with the exact same injury,
the underlying assumption being:
black people must feel less pain than white people.
Or how about when discussions of immigration arise?
People will likely focus their attention on Mexicans,
despite the fact that immigrants do come from countries other than Mexico.
Implicit biases do more than just hurt somebody's feelings.
They dictate our actions
and infiltrate our ability to thrive in a pluralistic culture.
This brings me to a concept:
killing rage.
This can be described as the fierce anger black people feel
after being repeatedly stung by everyday racist bees.
Killing rage is not violent,
because rage does not equal violence.
Rage is energy, it's fuel;
seemingly dangerous, but necessary.
It's the component we need to power a revolution.
Today we have lots of angry people carrying around lots of fuel.
For some, that rage, that fuel, causes them to organize a march.
Other people let their rage manifest in their art.
Some people get so fired-up
that they choose to dedicate their lives to non-profit organizations
that advance people in their community.
They want change,
so they nurture their anger and use it as fuel,
as so many of our ancestors have done before.
So, how does it feel when you get stung by a bee?
It's annoying, right?
It's painful, and it's irritating.
Now, imagine being stung by several bees every single day
and being told, "Come on, it's not that bad!"
How would you feel?
I'm sure I don't need to cite a study for us to know
what suppressed anger can do, right?
So, when you exist in a racially marked body,
in a highly racialized society,
when you learn to recognize coded speech like a second language
and then get told what you know to be true "isn't that bad,"
anger is a natural and necessary reaction.
When we tell people who experience daily racial discrimination
that they should not be upset,
when we say to them, "Just let it go," "They didn't mean it like that,"
"It's not that bad,"
we're telling them to suck it up,
and then we're surprised when we watch that anger explode.
But, so long we choose to nurture our rage,
we can use strategically,
Benjamin Franklin once said,
"Anger is never without reason, but seldom with a good one."
That's interesting, right?
Considering angry people
people who are tired of being treated like second-class citizens
is what led to the Revolutionary War.
So, was Benjamin Franklin's life just one big contradiction,
or is he telling us that a revolution is a good one,
a revolution is a good reason to have anger?
Over the last few weeks,
streets all over this country have been overflowing with angry protesters.
You've seen them, I'm sure,
marching in the streets, chanting in unison.
We're watching history unfold.
Now, historically speaking, everything, from workers rights to civil rights,
have their roots in protest.
So, why do we tell people not to do it?
Perhaps it's because protest is seen as acceptable
if it falls into a controlled white ideal.
We've seen this idea reflected
any time a person of color chooses to protest in any form.
It's not seen as a function of democracy;
it's seen as a threat.
It's characterized as disrespectful and unruly.
Now, we've seen this in the backlash against peaceful public protests,
or against Colin Kaepernick and his actions,
or against the cast of Hamilton and how they chose to be heard.
Most Americans know that racism is a serious problem,
so it seems so counter-intuitive
to admit we have a problem
and then tell people not to be mad about it.
We must understand
that, when we tell people not to be upset,
we're telling them to just accept the racism
because "that's just the way it is."
When we tell people to be patient, to wait for change, not to fight back,
we're assuming the status quo is going to relinquish its power without a fight,
when history has proven otherwise time and time again.
History has already shown us that major change has violent roots
and a long line of angry advocates.
History has also shown us
that protesters were rarely the source of that violence.
They were not the ones who brought tanks, and dogs, and water hoses to a march.
Hold on to your anger, nurture it,
and understand that rage does not have to lead to violence,
just like love doesn't have to lead to marriage and a baby.
But love, it plays a significant role in the fight for liberation.
Without it, we feel inclined to transform society
only if we feel directly threatened.
Ethic of love is a concept.
In order to practice and ethic of love, it requires valuing service to others
and feeling inclined to transform society when anyone is threatened
because we see that as a threat to everyone.
But it starts with acceptance.
Not acceptance of others.
Acceptance of our truest selves.
To practice an ethic of love means to practice awareness.
It requires a critical eye that looks inward first
to recognize our own implicit biases
and the role we play in the reproduction of oppression.
To practice an ethic of love requires a community.
That means you, and that's you,
and that's you, and that's you, and that's me.
And that means we don't have to do this alone.
But here's the juxtaposition:
an ethic of love is found in a killing rage.
In fact, both concepts were coined by the same feminist scholar,
bell hooks.
She teaches us that, within our rage, we find healing,
we find love as the practice of freedom.
But it's not the romantic kind of love.
No, it's that selfless kind,
the kind that casts away our own self-interest
for the advancement of everybody.
Love at its purest form is critical.
It will not let wrongs go unchecked.
So, when we decide to practice an ethic of love,
we will be outraged at the injustices we see in this world.
Righteous anger leads to protest.
Suppressed anger leads to riots.
So, feel freely, and fuel the revolution.
(Applause) (Cheers)