Whether you use Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, Reddit or even TikTok, your feed is likely
flooded with posts calling for justice for the many Black individuals who have lost their lives to
police brutality and racism — or criticizing those calling for justice. You’re barraged with video
footage, articles, statistics and opinions from everyone from Bernie Sanders to that one racist
uncle who makes Thanksgiving miserable and it seems like it’ll never end. Through social
media, we’re all connected to current events in real time, 24 hours a day. The constant stream of
disasters is exhausting for everyone, and many leaders have been stressing the importance of
logging off as an act of self-care. If you’re white (as I am), this might feel like just the latest in
2020’s rapidly accelerating sequence of crises. It’s natural to want to get away from it all, and
more tempting than ever due to the necessary discomfort that comes from confronting racism in
your own life. However, for white allies, it’s important not to take the ability to disconnect for
granted.
The solidarity between Black folks, nonblack people of color, and white allies during this time
has been astonishing. There have been demonstrations in all fifty states and over a dozen
countries. In Atlanta, as in many other cities, people of all ethnicities, races, genders, religions,
ages and socioeconomic classes march alongside one another daily. However, for all that
solidarity, when white folks come home from the protests and close Twitter, we are as white as
ever. For all that we amplify Black voices, we do not take Blackness home with us. Racism is
something we choose to confront, and can therefore choose not to confront. Those for whom we
march do not have this privilege. For Black people, it is a malignant constant to be carried every
day. There is no disconnecting when Black life itself is seen as a political issue.
This isn’t to say that it’s wrong to take care of yourself. Privilege doesn’t mean shame or moral
wrong. It’s unhealthy to consume violence and vitriol constantly, and you should certainly make
time in your day to bolster your emotional well-being. However, it’s important to know that
your ability to disconnect is not universal. Black people don’t get to step away from fighting for
their lives and combating injustices. Stepping away from social media doesn’t get to equate
disconnecting from police brutality, if you’re Black. So, white people, consider how you can use
the luxury of your replenished emotional energy to continue to support those who are feeling
more drained than ever. Whatever your privilege has given you, use it.
Above all, fight the urge to disengage completely. We know that it is dangerous when white
allies are silent. For too long, white folks have been passive in the face of injustice. This quiet
compliance allows racism to remain the norm. We are beginning to shed passiveness and
silence, but many of us have had to overcome feelings of guilt and discomfort in order to
challenge our own biases and those of our loved ones. We have confronted twisted notions of
politeness in our social circles, presenting others with uncomfortable truths. If we allow
discomfort and decorum, the insidious twin weapons of racism, to silence us, this will be for
nothing. Our common cause cannot afford for people to “get tired of” activism.
It is therefore crucial that we approach this struggle with endurance. This is a battle four
hundred years in the making, and it won’t be over in a week. We can — and must — rest. But
the object of this rest is to prepare us for the next fight.