Acknowledging the Perpetuation of Racism in White Writing

I was listening to a podcast this morning. In a portion of it, they spoke about racism and white privilege. Specifically, how white authors, even white authors in minority groups, need to acknowledge their role in systemic racism. They discussed how racism is not a result of class or social status, but rather, it is a lived experience. This left me thinking about my writing and my bias. I have spent the last several years living a unique social experience. I am absolutely a minority, as a disabled transgender female. However, despite being precariously in a propped-up lower-class situation, I am very privileged by my race. In some ways, I count my blessings in that I, for the most part, pass as a woman and can go unnoticed when I am out in the community, away from my kids, who still call me “dad”. However, I transitioned in the small town in which I live and had five kids who were in their own ways figures in this community. I also have two parents who are also figureheads and well respected here. Thus, much of the community has watched as I have gone through my metamorphosis.

But, on the daily, I am Sierra, a white woman living in a small town. I work with a number of women who are black, Hispanic, or of other races. In this context, I ponder what their experiences are. As I settle back into my writing, be it a blog post, a novel, a short story, or a poem, I ask myself, am I reflecting and respecting racism in my writing? My answer is resoundingly, not adequately. I must first acknowledge that I am a part of the issue. In writing this blog, I am trying to look into myself. This piece is for me as much as it is for anyone else. I respect those who try to ask themselves with every encounter, “What is it like for the other person?” I challenge that there is no way we could ever know. So, I challenge myself to reflect that perhaps, when appropriate, I should be asking, “What can I do better?” And, in the context of that question, offer an apology and promise to work for change.

This is all a bit daunting, and perhaps insurmountable, but I have a Trans-Pride flag on my wall that reads, “Love and Acceptance are Beautiful – Open Minds and Questions are Magic.” I believe this, and I also believe that I need to start by asking more questions and opening my mind. I need to acknowledge that both as a person and as an author, I am a part of the racism issue and that through a better understanding and acknowledgement of the difference in experiences, I may be better prepared to offer respect and work toward change. Therefore, I ask, "What can I do better?"