Photo (above): an older white woman on the left holding the handle of a suitcase standing next to a Black younger woman holding the handle of a suitcase. Both ladies are smiling at the other. Photo Credit: Miodrag Ignjatovic
***With all the news circulating this weekend about the US and international tensions, I am thinking of each of you. Please DM if you need support or encouragement. I got your back (and your six).
“Happy day after Juneteenth day!” a white woman said, nervousness at the tail end of her wish. That fact alone told me that she meant each word. Most people wouldn’t bother to say a word if they believe for a second it won’t land just right. She stood next to me, waiting for the elevator in the Dyson Breast Imaging Center in Poughkeepsie. I turned to look at her, like really look at her, seeing what I assumed to be a Baby Boomer of about 65 or so. Her wrinkles were there but her gorgeous fuchsia lipstick softened them a lot. She wore a black dress with velvet flowers. She already seemed cool as hell to me.
If I saw her again, I’d know her.
“Thank you so much. Truly. I really appreciate you saying that,” I pensively responded, knowing I would probably cry somewhere between my car and home later.
“I know that things are not good right now but I wanted you to know that,” she continued.
“Thank you so much. I had a quiet peaceful day and that gave me joy.”
The elevator doors abruptly opened, thrusting me back into reality of what I was actually there to do. I needed to get off on the second floor but she was going to the fourth. Damn it! I almost forgot where I was supposed to be. I longed to stay on the elevator so I could wrap her in a hug full of gratitude and love. Instead, in a daze, I just thanked her again and wished her a great weekend.
And BAM! As I predicted, tears happened while I sat waiting to hear my name called by a mammographer. I didn’t question why Fuchsia Fanny (my cute nickname for my elevator friend) chose me to relay her message. Maybe she had told lots of Black people the same thing throughout the day. It just felt like a boost of hope and validation to have a stranger answer a question I just asked health equity and disability justice advocacy organizations the day before — the actual day the nation celebrates Juneteenth — via one of my infamous social media videos.
“If you can post Juneteenth graphics on social today, can you engage with Blackness tomorrow?”
While I have yet to receive an answer from my targeted audience, the white woman in the elevator did what many of us make so difficult due to ego, stubbornness, fear, and confusion.
She stepped to the plate, said, “Batter up!” and she swung her bat in any direction. She didn’t promise me her swing would be perfect or to make a homerun. She gave a damn enough to pick up the bat still.
Isn’t that the whole point? Fanny’s wish for me is for us all, especially white people — to not allow the fear of Blackness and the engagement of it to be so veiled in prejudice or perfectionism that wax figures are more active in their efforts? There is deep humanity inside Black people and our history — not just on Juneteenth — that makes abandoning us during the remaining 364 days of the year, perilous and senseless. Who does it help to create cute graphics for just a day without a commitment to the people who need as much education and resources in chronic illness as anyone? It’s almost like a situationship that goes nowhere — it’s good enough for the moment but it won’t ever be a fulfilling relationship that will enrich our lives.
In activism, I’ve witnessed Black people and membership in these organizations largely avoided to please donors, maintain the surety of power and privilege in whiteness, and by succumbing to the paralyzing fear of doing what has never been done before. These are such outdated behaviors and it’s so booooring.
Fanny could have just given me a nervous smile as we both walked onto the elevator. And her presence would have meant nothing to me. But she shocked my system by just showing up to celebrate Black people after the federal holiday breaks fade and the red, green, and black graphics are long forgotten. She clearly understands the assignment. Moments like these shouldn’t be surprises; they should be normal routines of affection and proactivity.
If Fanny of Poughkeepsie can do it, why can’t organizations who claim to champion equity and justice?
“Situationships are characterized by a lack of obligation or exclusivity, but the real hallmark is a lack of clear boundaries or labels…”
Will you be the next donor for an important discussion series, “What I Wish White People Knew about My Life as a Black Disabled Activist?”
I love when plans come together! There are so many of you who believe in me and my unique ideas for health advocacy that promotes Blackness, truth, and inclusiveness. To the donors who have already given, thank you!
Acting as a Moderator, Long Covid activist, and founder of the Black Long Covid Experience, LLC, I will use virtual media to lead two recorded sessions that welcome collaboration and engagement with Black disabled activists and/or people – through thoughtful, honest discussion – to expand the white people’s understanding of their overall lives, health, and advocacy experiences. These people include other activists, chronic illness non-profit organizations, and those who have — or have had — the privilege and capital to lead advocacy events and other structures. We invite audiences to prepare to gain concrete knowledge on the humanity of Black activists.
These sessions will be recorded, edited, and offered on a video streaming platform for a low cost with accessibility tools including guests descriptions and closed captioning.
Please note: I will also be using some of the funds raised from last year’s campaign for my Black & Disabled documentary film project to support ‘What I Wish White People Knew…’ but I would still love your support. Sometimes, a great idea gives birth to more of them.
Your donation:
will support compensating 4-6 Black activists and guests at least $100 each per discussion.
securing a production and video editor (preferably in the disabled community).
compensation for me as Moderator, Producer, and Director and Black Long Covid Experience, LLC.
meeting the immediate need of a Black disabled person in the chronic illness community (i.e. medication, Amazon supplies, food, bill, etc.).
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