White People Don't Think About This

But I Do Every Single Day

Insert the “no, no, no, no, no…” scene from the movie Get Out

*A reminder that the guide to support Palestine, which includes a resource of verified fundraisers, can be downloaded here.

To anyone already overwhelmed with content, don’t stress homie. Back to back posts won’t be a regular occurrence here. I am exhausted. However yesterday, we honored the memory of George Floyd. Today I felt called to write. 

Dear Black people, I love you. I invite you to pass on this post if you are at capacity. We’ve been traumatized (and re-traumatized) enough for several lifetimes.

Please rest and daydream. 

As for me, I sprained my ankle last week and have barely left my apartment.

Yesterday I felt kinda ok and decided to walk Nico the rescue pup at the park.

That was a mistake for two reasons: 

1. I am not healed and I should not be walking and holy crap this hurts and what in the hell were you thinking, Robin?

2. It’s Memorial Day weekend in Columbus, Ohio and I’m Black. 

The picture above is what I saw when I arrived. I was instantly overwhelmed with dread. If your first thought is “it’s just the American flag!” then, oh. 

Let’s pause for a moment. 

This country was founded on the enslaved labor of my ancestors, brutal violence, and racist systems that continue to impact my daily life. 

That’s what I see when I look at your precious stars and stripes. (For the record, I’m a military kid. I honor those who have served.)

What did you say, it’s just displaying pride in the country? 

Pride about what? Quickly.

- About the way it’s made amends to Black and Indigenous people?

- About the genuine efforts underway to repair hundreds of years of emotional and economic harm?

- About the acknowledgment, accountability and tangible actioned steps taken steps to create an equitable society? 

Got it.

I wanted to leave but I didn’t have it in me to drive anywhere else so here we are.

After our brief walk, I headed back to my car. This is what I saw. There were hundreds of cars in the lot. I only passed maybe thirty and was able to snap these pics.

I didn’t see any other Black people. Can you imagine how unsafe I felt? 

In my mind, the thin blue line and confederate symbols are constant reminders that “my Black life isn’t valued or protected” in this society.

As I sat in my car and quietly sobbed in pain and and out of anger, I started to think about the parts of life white people never have to consider.

Have you ever noticed the signs that say “proudly serving the community since 1942” or any Jim Crow inspired year?

For example, these:

It always makes me wonder “serving whomst, beloved?”

• Who exactly were the police protecting and serving in 1881?

• Could my grandparents have opened an account at First National Bank in 1905?

• Would I have been allowed to shop at the Kroger in 1883?

• Did Pilot Dogs help blind Black people in 1950 or…?

I recently snapped these pictures around town. The image of the cop car is from online. Yesterday I actually passed a cruiser that said “serving since 1906.” I tried to take a picture but the cop saw me. I put my phone down because I have common sense. 

Alrighty friends, let’s play a round of “Being Black is lit but the price we pay is expensive as fuck.” 

Let’s goooooo! 

1. My building maintenance person is a Tr*mp supporter. How do I know? He told me, I didn’t ask!

2. I live two blocks from a police station. Do I feel safe? Bless your heart, no. I fear for my life on a regular basis!

3. When I take road trips, I have to be careful to avoid certain areas after dark because sundown towns continue to exist in 2024. It’s not inconvenient, it’s an adventure!

4. My neighbor flies a Tr*mp 2020 flag. I feel unsafe and don’t walk in my own neighborhood anymore. I pay to live here! 

5. When I delivered with Uber eats, there were multiple times I’d deliver to a home with one of the above mentioned symbols on their property. After an issue free delivery, I’d see that they’d reduced the tip to an insulting amount, often it was deleted entirely. I wasn’t demoralized or financially impacted one bit!

6. When I was 15 years old, I walked home from school. A man sitting on his front steps leaned in and whispered “would you rather die for no reason or because you’re a n…..?”  To this day I’m unclear why this was my response, but my ridiculous self actually paused to reflect on his question and said “not sure!” then continued home. 

7. I drive two hours away to the nearest Black vet because the ones in my area treated me and my pup like trash. Shout out to Dr. Venaya Jones from the Cleveland Veterinary Clinic!

8. There is a car in the parking lot of my eye surgery center with a blue lives matter sticker. It’s been there each time which means, they’re probably an employee. How fun! I wonder if I’ve ever been in their quality, unbiased “care”? 

9. Recently I was pulled over by the cops. The first words he said were “you’re lucky - a less experienced cop would have shot you on sight.” Good to know, my guy!

To end my traumatic walk down memory lane…

10. When I was 10, my Mom married a terrible man. He moved us from my safe, diverse town in Maryland to an all white town in Illinois.  I was torn from my (scholarship funded) private school and sent to a public school of 1200 people. I was the only Black person - student or staff. Life at home (the parts that I remember) was a nightmare. And yet, it was my time at school that escalated the decline of my emotional health. 30+ years later and I continue to think about the cruelty of the kids, the adults were even worse. 

Please don’t ever do this to your children.

These examples just happened to be the first ten that came to mind - I have others, so many others. While I’m able to make light of them now, each one caused me an immense amount of pain.

I say this in every post and I‘ll say it again in this one: I need to leave this hateful country and move to Mexico.

In my previous post I committed to not use this space to crowdfund. I intend to honor that and will save it for Linkedin. However, yesterday was a stark reminder that I need to get the hell up outta here.  

And so, one last time for the road: here is my Mexico GoFundMe. 

The link will live at the bottom of each post in the future.

If you’re able to invest in my wellness - love you, mean it. 

If not then trust, I understand. 

I hope you receive any support you may need for your own mental health and safety. 

White folks, next time you’re out, take notice of your environment.

• Who’s there? Who’s not? 

• Is it a place where you think I’d feel safe? 

• Can our society create spaces where I don’t have to ask these questions? 

My goal is to not be here to find out. I want to experience not living in fear for once in my life. For those of you who stay by choice or by circumstance, I’ll continue to hold hope. We deserve better.

For anyone interested to learn more about the history of injustice against Black people in this country, subscribe to the History of Racial Injustice daily email from the Equal Justice Initiative.

Stay safe out there, family.