effortless

Acknowledging and dismantling white supremacist culture and advocating for true inclusion has been a focus of many conversations I have been a party to lately—within my partner agency, our corps group, and even my family.

I just started Waking Up White, a book that explores personal and professional racial tensions in the life of the author, Debby Irving, who continuously struggles with unsuccessful efforts to reach out to families of color as an educator. Irving is a white woman who grew up in New England, and I am also a white woman who grew up in New England!

Irving begins the book by talking about her family belief system and the values she inherited from her family and upbringing. One thing that resonated with me from her reflection on growing up in a predominantly white, upper-middle class New England suburb is not complaining. In her family and community, strong, negative emotions were highly discouraged and shouldn’t be discussed openly, or it would be perceived as whining. Optimism and enthusiasm are the only acceptable responses to challenges and traumas. This mentality feels familiar to me—as does the discomfort of teasing out what pieces of me come from “culture” and which are my “character”. Also, I do still complain a lot! But just because something feels natural or appropriate to me doesn’t mean it is the right way to approach or discuss a challenge, and I may need to sit in feeling uncomfortable with others’ perceived negativity in order to create space for others’ realities and support them where they are. Easier said than done.

During our ‘quarentation’ at the beginning of this year, the group had about an hour-long discussion about our hair journeys. We talked later about how sharing about our hair was a God moment and a bonding experience. I have two sisters who both have awesome hair, one of whom is brunette, the only brunette in our nuclear family, and the other of whom is blonde like me… except she won the Best Hair superlative in high school and has truly impeccable naturally ice blonde soft hair. This past year for me has been its own journey of hair “firsts”—when I got back to the US after studying abroad I got a short bob; during quarantine I cut my own bangs; I got highlights a few months ago; and my hair is currently fading from temporary blue dye. Getting highlights earlier this year made me feel such discomfort because I felt unnatural and impure. Using products in my hair has always felt like cheating. In my family, having nice hair is essential, but putting effort into having nice hair is gauche. But reflecting on such an external and superficial manifestation makes me question where else in my life I am feigning effortlessness in order to uphold my family belief systems, and upholding potentially harmful ideals in the process.