Dear (not all) white women,

Not all of you (as my greeting suggests), but some of you, feel the need to correct women of color A LOT. And I do mean A LOT. Like, TONS. And it really needs to stop.

Now, I know you’ve been oppressed by the white patriarchy, and I feel for you on that. Believe it or not, I know a thing or two about oppression. However, that doesn’t make your attempts to correct me at every single turn of my existence okay. I’ve noticed that when I talk to you, you’re so quick to interrupt me and to tell me that you think I’m wrong in so many words. I mean, I could be talking about how I liked eating peanut butter and jelly as a kid and you’d be like: “No, I don’t think that’s accurate.” You need to understand that you can’t be right all the time. And I know it’s hard, especially when around every corner there’s some white guy mansplaining to you about your work, or your family, or your reproductive rights. And that totally sucks. But don’t take it out on me! I ain’t the GOP. I’m just over here minding my own business, living my truth and being honest about that.

And somehow, for some reason, you feel empowered by trying to take that away from me. You have to lay some sort of bizarre claim to my thought process and how I define my experiences in the world. I could be wrong about this, but I’m pretty certain that no one can be as true to my story and the expression of that story as I am. I want you to know that I give you the benefit of the doubt and I don’t assume that you do this on purpose — which is why I’m writing this letter.

I’m going to need you to open up the floor for women of color who must also be heard. So many women have to go to such great lengths to prove that they deserve to be at the same table as you. Forget equal pay. Women of color first have to worry about being seen as equal human beings before they can even begin to worry about that check they’re getting at the end of the week. They go through a lot. The best thing you can do for them is to quiet that inner voice that says: “Quick! Talk over that Indian woman!” when she’s expressing herself as she wants, when she wants. Listen to her. Just as you need to be listened to. Listen to her.

Here are just a few reminders that I want you to consider as you go about your day:

Please refrain from saying things like: “I think you meant to say..”

Yeah, I know exactly what I meant to say. If I didn’t know what I meant to say, I wouldn’t be saying it.

Take a pause before stamping my thoughts with your own.

“Okay, I’m going to interrupt you now to tell you how I think about it this way.” Not every conversation is only about how you think. Instead of jumping in to label a conversation with how you see something differently, clarify what is being said. Ask questions that can help you to go beyond the surface comprehension you have when you’ve listened to someone for a few seconds and then interrupted them.

Curb the temptation to say “Don’t forget…”

Why you telling me not to forget all the time? It’s like you think my thought process is so limited that I am only capable of seeing an issue from one side. You and I live in the same world, baby. Hopefully, we refine our perspective of life every day we live it. I think all the time before I speak, often about many things at once. Gasp! I’m not saying that only my point of view matters, but I am saying that I need you to really hear me out. Hear my story, just as I want to hear yours. Also, I use slang sometimes. Don’t worry about it.

In conclusion, I have love for you, white woman, and you, just like me, are imperfect. I know you’re not always going to get things right. I’m not always going to get things right. But what matters more to me is that you try. There’s a lot of conditioning by our society that you and I both have to work through. It affects how you see me and how the world sees you. And I know it’s not easy. But I want us to help each other to shed the bullsh*t and self correct so we can treat one other with the respect we both deserve. I have love for you, white women, and I want us to be cool. I hope you know that.

Much love to you,

Kingzie

P.S. Don’t correct me no mo’.

Kingzie is a doer and a maker with a love for fearless writing and music. A strategist by day and creator by night, her work is often inspired by her experiences growing up on Chicago’s beautifully vibrant Southside. Check out her musings on love, life and the pursuit of steak tacos @king_zie.

Kingzie

Writing since November 2015 · 3 stories contributed