Dear White Women,
We have a big problem. It’s nothing new, but it’s more visible than ever in 2019. It seems like every other day you turn on the news, and there’s a white woman calling the police on black children for selling lemonade. Or a white woman calling 911 because a black family was having a barbecue in a public park. Or a white woman assaulting a child because she doesn’t want to swim in the same pool as him.
Or earlier this week, a white woman pulling a gun on a black couple for picnicking by a lake.
As a white woman, I understand the way that society sets us up to feel fragile, to feel entitled to call the police (or pull out a gun, apparently) every time we feel the slightest bit unsafe. I get it. But as the mother of two black children, I also have a view into the world they live in. And my fellow white women: You are making my children’s world a very scary place.
In my work to expand access to the outdoors for all, I often encounter an attitude of skepticism from white folks. I hear, “If people of color aren’t showing up in the outdoors, maybe it’s because they just aren’t into it! Why do you have to make everything about race?”
I hope the story of this white campground manager who assaulted Franklin and Jessica Richardson, an active-duty service member and his wife, just because they had the audacity to enter a campground, will put that objection to rest once and for all. People of color, especially black people, have every reason to feel unsafe in outdoor spaces.
We often take our kids out to Shenandoah National Park. On the way we drive past kiosks selling Confederate flags. In the park, we are reminded of our country’s racially segregated history every time we hike near Lewis Campground, established during the Jim Crow era for black visitors. While we’re out there I’m very conscious that if my husband and I stepped away for even a moment, our kids would be in the same position as Franklin and Jessica, who had a gun pulled on them just because they were black in the outdoors.
My kids have a human right to experience joy in nature. What is it about black joy that is so threatening, white women? Why is our reaction to police and control it?
To really understand this, we have to look back at the long history of white women’s violence targeting black people. Carolyn Bryant, who caused Emmett Till's death by falsely accusing a fourteen-year-old of sexual assault, recently admitted for the first time that she made the whole thing up. Throughout US history, white women’s safety has been used as an excuse for racist violence. The #BBQBecky phenomenon isn’t new; it’s just more visible now thanks to social media.
As a white woman, I refuse to allow myself to be used as a weapon to harm black people. I commit to being judicious in my choice to contact law enforcement, thinking first about the safety of people who are often subjected to police violence. If you feel the same, learn about some of the incredible organizations working to create safety and promote joy for people with marginalized identities in the outdoors. Organizations like Outdoor Afro, Latino Outdoors, and Venture Out deserve your support and solidarity.
Our identities as white women can mean more than a legacy of racist violence if we choose a different path. Together we can use our privilege and access to power to help expand access to the healing power of the outdoors to all.