Freedom - 019 — Jake Kahana

*“African’t” paper cutouts by* *Kara Walker*

Hey there {FirstName|Friend},

I. Language of Privilege

I found myself looking for scripts this month. How can I talk to my daughter about race? How can I convince my conservative relatives that we are all biased? Start conversations about non-racism vs anti-racism? How do I start talking about and then addressing my own privilege?

Let me start here. Black lives matter. In a country that historically and systematically devalues Black lives and destroys Black bodies, I can start by making it clear that I believe that Black lives, of every kind, matter.

What I’ve discovered is that scripts and language don’t really exist. Part of the work I have to do (and so many of us) is to read and listen, and then put that into our own words and commitments. To raise anti-racist children by talking about race often and taking action. To step out of our privilege. And ultimately to dismantle a system built on and for white supremacy.

Our system is not broken, it works the way it’s supposed to. It was built off-balance. Our government, laws, and social structures are built to favor some people–and let’s just be clear about it– built to favor white people. And even more: white, able-bodied, mentally capable, cis-gendered, male people.

Black lives matter. And I commit to consistent and regular action to learn, listen, and take action. I’m committed to learning by being wrong and then corrected. I’m committed to leading conversations through discomfort. I’m committed to acknowledging and then flipping my privilege. I’m committed to listening and reading, and protesting, and donating, and voting, and allying. I’m committed to helping eradicate white supremacy in my lifetime.

I don’t know if that’s possible, but here’s to trying as hard as we can together.

*"Puffin Clouds” photograph by* *Paul Octavius*

II. Never Too Late

The Emancipation Proclamation, the official document ending enslavement, was signed by Abraham Lincoln on January 1, 1863. This month, we celebrated Juneteenth. A holiday commemorating the last of the enslaved people being freed. In June, not January. Because for two and a half years, plantations in Texas were still enslaving people until June 19, 1865.

We think of slavery as having ended. That we are all free. And now that that’s taken care of, we can go back to capitalism where we reward success and hard work. And if you’re not successful, you’re not working hard.

Many of us want to attribute our success and status to hard work and being opportunistic. And we ignore the privilege that we were given from the day we were born. The way people saw us. Supported us. Said that we belong or made us feel it. Gave us the benefit of the doubt. Gave us a (second, third) chance.

Ava DuVernay’s “13th” makes a strong point that slavery is still very much alive today in labor, in institutions, in the prison system and policing, and throughout our society. We still have deep roots to weed out.

It feels late to be starting this anti-racism work. If you’re older than me, maybe more so. But if we hope to live to 100 years old, we can start learning piano at 65 and still have 35 years of mastering the instrument. We can do the learning and the practicing daily and still create movement and action.

So let’s get started. There’s a lot to clean up.

*"Portrait of Asia-Imani, Gabriella-Esnae, and Kaya Palmer” painting by* *Kehinde Wiley*

III. Every Man For Himself

Spend 5 minutes scrolling Instagram or Facebook or TikTok. (Oh you already did today? Cool.) Your feed is tailored to you, curated and manicured. And if you post, even better. What you have to say makes it seem more important.

Living through our social feeds, it’s easy to find ourselves believing that we are not just the center of our own universe, but believing that we are the center of the universe and everyone and everything revolves around us.

Our time is spent focusing on ourselves. We analyze our relationships, look for our purpose, share our opinions on blogs and newsletters (the irony here is not lost on me), and just live our lives– meal to meal to sleep and repeat.

The modern era has conditioned us to choose ourselves before any outside group. We fear getting to know our neighbors too well. We resist joining professional organizations or religious groups because they don’t fully align with our social calendars and we don’t identify with what it might mean to belong to one of those groups. We hide things about ourselves from our families because they might not get us.

In short, we’ve traded belonging for independence.

As we approach our independence day, and with the current climate of the world, let’s talk for a minute about freedom and independence. Because they’re not the same thing. We've blurred the line between freedom and autonomy. We're reverting to an oversimplified kindergarten definition– “it’s a free country, I can do whatever I want.”

But freedom is more complex than just personal autonomy. Freedom is bigger than individual independence and doing whatever we want without restriction. That level of personal isolationism, or “every man for himself”, is a recipe for entropy...

IV. Every Man and Woman For Each Other

If you’re anything like me, you’re not looking forward to the 15th. Between now and then, I’ll be writing two large checks and sending them off to the federal and state governments.

Paying taxes is a small example of a cost of living in a country that ensures services to its people and promises freedom. We follow laws, obey traffic signals, vote, go to school. All of these actions throughout our daily lives are sacrifices we make. We could be doing whatever we want, but we choose to participate in a democratic society with individual actions. We are accepting some level of barriers and constraints in our own action, in favor of a different kind of freedom– collective freedom.

By living in the United States, we’re committing to a level of collective freedom. Which means I give up some of my personal liberties so that we all can benefit from the system.

The system is supposed to keep us safe. When we’re safer, we can be healthier. When we’re healthier, we can be more educated. When we’re more educated, we can reach our potential. When we’re reaching potentials, we make an impact and improve our communities and our world.

But that chain is broken. While it has worked for me and maybe for you up until this point, it doesn’t work for Black people. And we’re left coming to terms with living in a country that is not safe, not keeping people healthy, sustaining under-education, and stagnant in cycles of oppression and poverty.

(Brief sidenote: this is more or less the defense of looting. When following the laws hasn’t kept people safe, one of the loudest ways to bring attention to those laws, to argue that the law in general is broken, is to break them.)

Our situation and country won’t get better if we think of this as a Black issue to sympathize with. We must recognize that it is our problem, too.

Racism is OUR problem.

It is our mess to clean. It is not BIPOC1’s job to fix it or deal with it. It is ours. Mine. And yours too, {FirstName}.

If I’m being honest, doing this work and being in this “together” implies that we are all sharing the burden. But that’s not the case. BIPOC are being murdered in their sleep and in the streets because of the white supremacy and racism that our systems were built on and that we (yes WE ALL) uphold and reinforce every day.

So I don’t want to pretend like I get it.

Or like I’m taking on some burden that I can handle.

But if we want to live in a country that we can truly believe in; where the founding documents promise equality, opportunity, and freedom. Where “life” and “liberty” are truly unalienable rights (not able to be taken away), we must not just join this movement, but push it forward.

We are not an “every man for himself” free country. We are an “every man and woman for each other” free country. Our voices need to speak loudly. Together.

Freedom is not individual.

Freedom is a collaboration.

*”You Better Idolize a Black Queen" illustration by Kacey Kal*

V. On Being Wrong

Last month, I wrote about learning. In order to become better at anything, we need to be comfortable doing things, saying things, and modeling things wrong. What I’m learning especially this month is that talking about race is hard for me (which means it’s likely hard for you, too).

That doesn’t mean we can opt out.

As I try practicing, writing, and speaking my own words, it’s especially important for me to have people that I’m comfortable being wrong with. Where it’s ok to talk this out, and speak openly.

Thank you for reading this, writing back, and sharing it.

You are part of that circle for me.

Our work can start with finding those people. Family. Partner. Close friends. It only takes one. Let’s start getting comfortable talking about race, being anti-racist, and influencing our own circles in that direction. It’s our job to use any privilege we have to lift up and create equity for BIPOC.

I’m going to be wrong, but I learn faster that way. Correct me. Criticize me. Educate me. But most importantly, try with me.

With Gratitude,

Jake

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@jakekahana | jakekahana.com

RESOURCES

Idiocracy Definition (Dictionary.com)

Liberty (Dictionary.com)

Liberal Democracy (Wikipedia)

Freedom From vs Freedom To (BU.edu)

Positive vs Negative Freedom (Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy)