Let me start by this: As a white person, I'm not totally sure how to approach this topic. As someone who was a missionary, I am all too aware of the "white savior complex" and desire desperately to avoid it. I am also aware how naive and honestly quite terrible I may look in some of these stories. Yet, I also know that I have a lot of white friends who haven't confronted and experienced race in a similar way as to what I have, and I want to speak to them. To tell stories and analyze how I'm learning and growing so as to help them learn and grow. And again forgive me for my overt use of my white privilege, but I think to really understand our issue at hand, that can not be swept under the rug either.
Just a little background, in case your friend shared this and you don't really know me. Until this year, I had spent the last 4 years of my life living in the Philippines. I am what you might call exceptionally white; fair skin, blue eyes, and light brown hair that for many years streaked itself blonde as it was exposed to a lot of sunlight. I can't achieve a tan if I wanted to, not even under the hot equator sun that left most of the Filipinos I lived among a mocha-y brown or darker. Sometimes my Pinoy friends would joke with me about what color coffee everyone's skin was, ranging from "hold the cream and sugar" to my laughable "only cream and sugar". I like to think that's because they think I'm so sweet rather than the color of my skin, but I digress.
I also taught at an international school, where most of the teachers were white, but most of our students were not. About 70% of my kids were Korean, with some Hispanics and some white Americans and Europeans in the mix.
During my first year teaching, I went on a trip with my school called Outdoor Education. For middle school, it's a mix of Christian summer camp meets mission trip. I was a leader of a group of girls and I noticed that one of my Korean students slowed the group down by putting on sunscreen too often. Although it was my role to make sure they reapplied sunscreen at appropriate levels during the day, her usage of sunscreen felt obsessive. And I found every opportunity I could to tell her that. This lead to a very real conversation that has been repeated to me several times since, "I'm trying to keep my skin light Miss Leneway. The lighter your skin is, the more beautiful you are." I've tried to tell my kids that's funny because in the culture I come from, people lie out in the sun for hours working on making themselves dark because browned skin is beautiful. I guess what I've failed to notice though is that what Americans really value is brown, but not too brown. And even now that makes me sad. The same way it made me sad every time I had those conversations with my kids, knowing full well their culture would never allow them to feel beautiful.
During this same time period, my white skin outside of the school had really become a nuisance. It's not that I was treated badly because of it. Quite the opposite. I had an essentially celebrity-like status and felt like I lived under a constant microscope because of it. People would openly gawk at me on the streets. Taxi drivers would constantly offer their hand in marriage. I remember one time, I went to a waterfall with some of my local friends to enjoy the day swimming and exploring. A group of us went up a path exploring towards the top of the waterfall. I got stopped along the way by someone who insisted I take a picture with them, not giving me another option. One of my friends noticed about 5 minutes later and came back for me (after they finally realized I had gotten pulled away from the group).When they saw the hold up, they laughed without end until I told them that this happened to me constantly and I was tired of it. I was tired of being paraded on stranger's Facebook profiles as white arm candy. I was tired of the constant limelight I got solely for the color of my skin. My friends were shocked to hear that this happened to me quite often and this wasn't just a weird incident.
And so I was torn. My white skin gave me a platform unlike any other, but for all the wrong reasons. I was sick and tired of being the object of attention, but also know that my behavior reflected the Christian missionary community at large (even if you weren't part of it, that's the assumption when you're white in the Philippines).
The best way we found to deal with it was to joke about it and at least get some advantages out of it, if my skin color was going to hang out and be so annoying all of the time. I got pulled over for making an illegal left-turn once. I was actually a dumb American at this point and for that reason alone, got away with just a warning. I unjustly took away the lesson then that I could probably use that logic during any part of my stay and they would never fact check me on it. Not that I ever used this to do more than jay walk and occasionally go a few kilometers over the speed limit (it's not like traffic allowed for more). We joked when we saw men staring about which one of us Greek goddesses they were staring at this time. We sometimes used our "whiteness" to our advantage, but when little girls said in the streets, "You're beautiful", we always stopped to tell them, "You are too". Sometimes I proudly add, I said this sloppily in Cebuano. After all, "gwapa" (beautiful/hot/handsome) and "puti" (white) were some of the first Cebnuano words I learned. Because I constantly heard people saying that around me or yelling that about me. However, as much as we wanted to break these cultural beauty perceptions, anything we could do felt futile as a dropping the contents of our water bottle in the large Pacific Ocean we lived on the coast of.
You get used to it eventually. And you accept that there are things you can't change. And you get tired of trying to do anything about it, because it will inevitably fail. Yet, I have one more story.
During my last year overseas, I took a vacation with two of my close Filipina friends and another white girl friend. On this vacay, we went to a waterfall/public pool place. At the gate of entrance, you had to pay to get in. When my other white girl friend and I passed through the gates, we were told a higher price than our friends had been. We questioned it, and they told us that it was the foreigner price. Our friends got the local price. Knowing it wasn't worth it to make a scene, and that we wouldn't get in without paying it, we forked over the money. As we kept walking, my Filipina friend who was right behind us, went into a loooooonnnnngggg rant in Cebuano at the lady. Although I had walked away, when she got to us she was noticeably shaking in anger at how we had been treated. We didn't get the extra pesoes we paid back, but I won't forget how someone stood up for me that day. How someone of a different skin color didn't ignore injustice I faced when she herself didn't (although mind you it was tiny injustice in comparison to what people of other skin colors face). That I had an ally who was part of the system that often made me feel so different.
I come from middle class, white America and I know many of my readers do too. Maybe you haven't ever had to think about what it means to be a white American, what unique privileges you have that many other Americans don't. Maybe you think it's okay to be "colorblind" and say "all lives matter", because you haven't ever known what it is to be on the part of the race that is seen as different by the culture you're in. That is discriminated against and treated differently solely based on the color of your skin. And it's okay that you haven't experienced the world of being the "other". The last thing we need is to feel guilty about that and just end up consoling each other over white guilt. I am tempted to face this even as I write this, knowing that I will never understand what real oppression is due to my race.
But I do want to be more like my friend. Because I know what a big difference it made in my heart to see someone fight for me, even though the struggle was not their own. I think that it's important in the face of the innocent death of George Floyd and the resulting protests around the country to realize this problem won't be fought and won until it's fought by all of us. Injustice is wrong, even when it doesn't affect you. So speak up. March. Protest.
But most importantly, don't just let this be a moment in time. If you see someone being treated unfairly in the future, stand up for them. Speak on their behalf. Because I can only imagine they're tired of fighting alone in a system that feels like it resists change with its very heart. And I use those words carefully because ultimately, that's where racism lies. Deep down in the crevices of our hearts that we barely acknowledge ourselves, let alone hope others see. It's time to look within at our own stories about how we've come to experience the color of our skin. It's time for both self-awareness and also awareness of others that it's all too easy to turn our heads to and ignore. And as we examine these stories, it's time to look for ways to change the narrative.
*I'm considering writing my next blog about how to learn about people in different cultures, which I believe is integral to all of this. So stay tuned for that.
**Also I know that I'm not perfect and I have work of my own to do on this. But hey, the important thing is that we're taking steps in this journey.
Sunday, May 31, 2020
Friday, May 1, 2020
We're not living under Martial Law...Trust me I have
Day 586 of quarantine...or so it feels. In the time of COVID-19, we're longing to go back to normal. A time when we can once again gather in groups, dine in our favorite restaurants, cheer for our favorite sports teams, and visit with grandma and grandpa in their homes. In the state I live in, Michigan, the shut down has been fairly strict compared to anything the average American has lived through. Although restrictions have lifted slightly, Governor Whitmer recently extended the State of Emergency yesterday. This was meet with gun-toting protesters. The pictures of this saddened my heart to an extent I can't express.
Michiganders are split on two sides of a fence, one that welcomes the Stay-At-Home order as a necessary step to protect the community, and the other that sees it as a threat to the freedoms that Americans hold oh so dear. There have been protests. There have been pleas from both sides of the issue to think reasonably and rationally. There have even been comments saying this was like the gateway to martial law. Well, I've lived under martial law and I figured this was a great opportunity to share what that experience was like for me.
If you haven't followed my story, until this year, I had spent the last 4 years living in the Philippines on an island called Mindanao. About three out of those four years I lived under martial law. Not a fact that you share with people back home when you don't want them to worry and/or you want them to let you stay. So many of you might not have realized I even lived under martial law. Well let me explain the circumstances leading up to this before I explain what it was like (as one of the rare Americans who have actually lived under such circumstances).
Quick geography lesson: Mindanao is almost 40,000 sq. miles, or roughly the same size as the lower peninsula of Michigan. I lived in a city called Davao in the south. It is the major city of the island, and the fourth most populated city in the whole Philippines. It is the home of the current president, President Rodrigo Duterte, the only president who has come from anywhere besides Manila essentially. President Duterte was elected into office during my first year there and remains current president. The island, Mindanao, has a long history of violence between the Muslim and non-Muslims in the north and west portions of the island.
In the fall of 2016, a night market called Roxas street was bombed. Roxas was a popular nightlife destination and a place I had been several times, drinking mango smoothies with friends while riffling through fake knock-off clothes. A couple of friends had been there on the night of the bombing just an hour before the bomb went off. While I remained safely tucked in my bed this night, this was only a mile and a half from my house. I discovered this in the morning when I woke up to Facebook asking me to check in that I was safe. I remember scrolling through the news on my phone that morning trying to quickly piece together what was happening. Looking back on Facebook to see that other friends had checked in as safe as well.
I was an assistant coach to the volleyball team during this season and our game was cancelled that morning due to safety concerns of letting visitors on campus. Living just around the corner though, I decided to mosey on over though to see that all players had gotten the message and then head over my classroom to busy myself with some work. There was one player there, my ferocious senior outside hitter. As we talked about what happened, she was nothing more than a scared child that morning. And so was I.
Threats loomed in the city for a week or so after. My friends and I avoided all malls (the center of all activities in the city) and crowded areas. Thankfully no other violence took place and eventually life settled back in to normal. A state of emergency was declared and checkpoints were set up to search vehicles coming into the city. The Islamic extremist group Abu Sayaaf took responsibility for the bomb as an affront to their displeasure with President Duterte, although later it was discovered that it was really a sympathetic group.
Things got quiet for a while and besides the checkpoints, life went back to normal. But the violence on Mindanao was not done.
Tensions between Abu Sayaaf and the administration continued. In May 2017, Abu Sayaaf took the entire city of Marawi hostage. Marawi is near Iligan if you look back at my map, about 8 hours northwest of Davao. This is like saying it happened in Traverse City and I lived in Detroit. The first thing they took was a hospital, but they eventually infiltrated the whole city killing when they saw fit and taking many more hostages. The army would come in to try and liberate the city. This conflict would last 5 months. I can't even imagine what it was like to be those people trapped in the city fearing for there lives. It was shortly after this event started that martial law was declared on Mindanao.
This declaration of martial law was met with a similar feelings as Michigan's stay at home order is. There were a lot of critics, but also many who welcomed it. What was interesting was it was not Mindanao where it was opposed. It was in the other parts of the Philippines. The parts that were already safe. Where martial law didn't really affect them, besides the precedent they were afraid it would set. I see the same thing here in Michigan. It is not the front-line health care workers or essential workers that are striking. They know better. They see the tragedy playing out right before them and wish it on none of us. My best friend works at a hospital. She currently spends most of her shifts in the morgue. It is also not the elderly and those with autoimmune diseases. The people in real danger are not speaking up against this Stay-at-Home order. But similar to Mindanao, the people in real danger mostly welcomed it.
Martial law actually didn't change much in my life. We did have to cancel any trips out of the city. This included us as a school scraping our plans for our Outdoor Education trip, an annual outreach trip that was often a highlight of the school year. We pulled together something in the city in the 2 weeks of planning we had, but it was pretty terrible compared to the experience of getting away. Also any weekend getaways, which were always fantastic as Mindanao has a wealth of nature to explore, had to be postponed for quite a while. Checkpoints were increased and seeing armed military guards became the normal. But it was not the brutal martial law of the past. It was not a government overreach seeking to control and terrorize its people. Instead it felt like an act of compassion from our President, showing that he stood with us and was going to protect us at whatever cost. While I don't agree with everything President Duterte has done, I do appreciate this act of support he gave us.
I've heard Michigan's Stay at Home order compared to martial law, and I just want to say "Don't". While you are asked to stay at home, you face no real consequences for your disobedience. Military is not lining the streets nor are officers sending you home when they see you out. This is not martial law.
Well I tell this story, there's so much I want Michigan to hear. I want them to know that while this is devastating on the economy (and so was martial law), sometimes saving lives is more important. I want you to know that while staying at home sucks, the people in real danger (like me) are grateful for it. Although I am lucky to have a job where I can work from home for the rest of the school year at least, I can't even imagine if Michigan reopening meant me going back to work right now. And having that hard choice of going to work and into danger every day or staying at home while my job which I love was forced to replace me as they go on with normal.
In America, freedom is a core value. And I get that that is important. But I think that people's lives are pretty important too. And I'm willing to let go of my right to do whatever I want to value life first. I'll pray the government makes wise choices in this impossible situation. But ultimately, I need to give a show of trust in them believing that they are not seeking to harm us until they prove otherwise. And I'd like to invite you to as well.
Disclaimer: I'm not looking to start any arguments here. I just wanted to share a different experience that I have that might give a different perspective on what is going on right now. I also want to outright state my bias in this situation: I am the vulnerable that we're seeking to protect. Earlier this year, I was diagnosed with an autoimmune disorder after spending much of the year in the hospital and am currently on immune suppressants. I also am lucky enough to have a job that allows me to work from home. My heart goes out to those of you that aren't so lucky.
Michiganders are split on two sides of a fence, one that welcomes the Stay-At-Home order as a necessary step to protect the community, and the other that sees it as a threat to the freedoms that Americans hold oh so dear. There have been protests. There have been pleas from both sides of the issue to think reasonably and rationally. There have even been comments saying this was like the gateway to martial law. Well, I've lived under martial law and I figured this was a great opportunity to share what that experience was like for me.
If you haven't followed my story, until this year, I had spent the last 4 years living in the Philippines on an island called Mindanao. About three out of those four years I lived under martial law. Not a fact that you share with people back home when you don't want them to worry and/or you want them to let you stay. So many of you might not have realized I even lived under martial law. Well let me explain the circumstances leading up to this before I explain what it was like (as one of the rare Americans who have actually lived under such circumstances).
Quick geography lesson: Mindanao is almost 40,000 sq. miles, or roughly the same size as the lower peninsula of Michigan. I lived in a city called Davao in the south. It is the major city of the island, and the fourth most populated city in the whole Philippines. It is the home of the current president, President Rodrigo Duterte, the only president who has come from anywhere besides Manila essentially. President Duterte was elected into office during my first year there and remains current president. The island, Mindanao, has a long history of violence between the Muslim and non-Muslims in the north and west portions of the island.
 |
| Map of Mindanao for reference |
I was an assistant coach to the volleyball team during this season and our game was cancelled that morning due to safety concerns of letting visitors on campus. Living just around the corner though, I decided to mosey on over though to see that all players had gotten the message and then head over my classroom to busy myself with some work. There was one player there, my ferocious senior outside hitter. As we talked about what happened, she was nothing more than a scared child that morning. And so was I.
Threats loomed in the city for a week or so after. My friends and I avoided all malls (the center of all activities in the city) and crowded areas. Thankfully no other violence took place and eventually life settled back in to normal. A state of emergency was declared and checkpoints were set up to search vehicles coming into the city. The Islamic extremist group Abu Sayaaf took responsibility for the bomb as an affront to their displeasure with President Duterte, although later it was discovered that it was really a sympathetic group.
Things got quiet for a while and besides the checkpoints, life went back to normal. But the violence on Mindanao was not done.
Tensions between Abu Sayaaf and the administration continued. In May 2017, Abu Sayaaf took the entire city of Marawi hostage. Marawi is near Iligan if you look back at my map, about 8 hours northwest of Davao. This is like saying it happened in Traverse City and I lived in Detroit. The first thing they took was a hospital, but they eventually infiltrated the whole city killing when they saw fit and taking many more hostages. The army would come in to try and liberate the city. This conflict would last 5 months. I can't even imagine what it was like to be those people trapped in the city fearing for there lives. It was shortly after this event started that martial law was declared on Mindanao.
This declaration of martial law was met with a similar feelings as Michigan's stay at home order is. There were a lot of critics, but also many who welcomed it. What was interesting was it was not Mindanao where it was opposed. It was in the other parts of the Philippines. The parts that were already safe. Where martial law didn't really affect them, besides the precedent they were afraid it would set. I see the same thing here in Michigan. It is not the front-line health care workers or essential workers that are striking. They know better. They see the tragedy playing out right before them and wish it on none of us. My best friend works at a hospital. She currently spends most of her shifts in the morgue. It is also not the elderly and those with autoimmune diseases. The people in real danger are not speaking up against this Stay-at-Home order. But similar to Mindanao, the people in real danger mostly welcomed it.
Martial law actually didn't change much in my life. We did have to cancel any trips out of the city. This included us as a school scraping our plans for our Outdoor Education trip, an annual outreach trip that was often a highlight of the school year. We pulled together something in the city in the 2 weeks of planning we had, but it was pretty terrible compared to the experience of getting away. Also any weekend getaways, which were always fantastic as Mindanao has a wealth of nature to explore, had to be postponed for quite a while. Checkpoints were increased and seeing armed military guards became the normal. But it was not the brutal martial law of the past. It was not a government overreach seeking to control and terrorize its people. Instead it felt like an act of compassion from our President, showing that he stood with us and was going to protect us at whatever cost. While I don't agree with everything President Duterte has done, I do appreciate this act of support he gave us.
I've heard Michigan's Stay at Home order compared to martial law, and I just want to say "Don't". While you are asked to stay at home, you face no real consequences for your disobedience. Military is not lining the streets nor are officers sending you home when they see you out. This is not martial law.
Well I tell this story, there's so much I want Michigan to hear. I want them to know that while this is devastating on the economy (and so was martial law), sometimes saving lives is more important. I want you to know that while staying at home sucks, the people in real danger (like me) are grateful for it. Although I am lucky to have a job where I can work from home for the rest of the school year at least, I can't even imagine if Michigan reopening meant me going back to work right now. And having that hard choice of going to work and into danger every day or staying at home while my job which I love was forced to replace me as they go on with normal.
In America, freedom is a core value. And I get that that is important. But I think that people's lives are pretty important too. And I'm willing to let go of my right to do whatever I want to value life first. I'll pray the government makes wise choices in this impossible situation. But ultimately, I need to give a show of trust in them believing that they are not seeking to harm us until they prove otherwise. And I'd like to invite you to as well.
Disclaimer: I'm not looking to start any arguments here. I just wanted to share a different experience that I have that might give a different perspective on what is going on right now. I also want to outright state my bias in this situation: I am the vulnerable that we're seeking to protect. Earlier this year, I was diagnosed with an autoimmune disorder after spending much of the year in the hospital and am currently on immune suppressants. I also am lucky enough to have a job that allows me to work from home. My heart goes out to those of you that aren't so lucky.
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