I’m a white woman and I’m ready for a journey toward greater racial understanding

I’m embarking on a journey. The destination is unknown. I’m not sure when I’ll get there. But you’re welcome to come along.

You see, I want to explore race from my alabaster point of view. I need to understand systemic racism and my role in keeping it alive.

This interest is long-standing but for years my thoughts were kept hush hush.

After all, what can I, a white woman, contribute to the racial conversation? Was I even allowed to ask questions? Or was it best to tiptoe out of the room and close the door?

That ambivalence was shattered with George Floyd’s death in Minneapolis police custody.

The worldwide upwelling against social injustice signaled I, too, could speak up. My own racial baggage needed unpacking and sorting to understand what I’d been lugging around all my life.

I feel as if I must start with a sort of apology. I was born into a privileged white, educated family.

My neighbors all looked like I did. So did my classmates at school.

Fortunately, the adults in my family were kind and relatively open-minded. They were appalled when they heard anyone slandering another’s ethnicity or background.

Still, it was obvious that whiteness was preferable to any alternative. And our insular existence ensured the perpetuation of the status quo.

It was as if our whiteness transcended race. In our sphere, white people were the norm. Everyone else was part of the racial problem.

Of course, apologizing isn’t the answer. I can’t change my upbringing.

Nor can I alter the social climate that shaped my beliefs. And harboring guilt only saps energy I could be directing toward more constructive aims.

I’m also pleased with the life choices of our grown children who’ve been exposed to more racial diversity and are making moves to further tolerance in their own households.

Yes, there’s been progress in my lifetime.

I remember seeing civil rights protesters beaten as they staged sit-ins in lunch counters. I cringe at the memory of Gov. George Wallace blocking the path of Black students entering the University of Alabama.

But much remains to be done. That’s why I’m embarking on my journey.

I want to further my racial understanding in ways I don’t yet fully grasp. I want to shed biases I don’t even know I hold. I want to become a better, more aware version of myself.

I’m open to any avenues for learning. Books, self-analysis, experiences and dialogues come to mind.

But life lessons come in many forms. Hopefully, I’ll embrace them when they arrive.

I know I’ll make mistakes. I’ll say or do things that seem callous.

Please know they’re committed in ignorance. There’s no malice in my intent.

Broaching this topic feels crazy scary. Suicidal might be a better word.

Racism is an loaded issue. But sharing my vulnerabilities with it? That’s scarier still.

Even so, some of you may want to travel with me. Others may serve as my guide.

We’ll all arrive different than when we started. But then, isn’t that the point?