“The silence of white people is violence,” was written on a sign carried by a white man during the demonstration held in Montreal following the murder of George Floyd, asphyxiated under the knee of a police officer in Minneapolis. Since the death of this African American, solidarity with black people has grown stronger in the world.
The hashtag #BlackLivesMatter is everywhere on social media. But beyond networks, how can you be an ally of black people? “I know people who appreciate it when their white friends put hashtags as a sign of solidarity on social networks,” the publicist and columnist Martine St-Victor tells us. “For me, I need to take concrete action. I want a company to hire diverse people instead of using hashtags. But we live in a world where communication is through images and not through substance,” she says.
A few hours before the demonstration against police brutality in downtown Montreal, between two teleconferences, in the middle of an intense back and forth in her living room, Marlihan Lopez takes the time to have for the umpteenth time an educational discussion with a well-meaning white journalist. According to her, the fact that racialized communities must “educate” members of white communities to enable them to become better allies is an additional, and unnecessary, burden for racialized people. “It's a discussion that you should have between you,” says the vice-president of the Fédération des femmes du Québec and coordinator at the Simone-De Beauvoir Institute at Concordia University. “Police brutality is a phenomenon that affects more black and indigenous people, but solidarity is the Everyone's work, and this conversation should be about all non-black people,” she adds.
Act instead of reacting
Being an ally is more than changing your profile photo on social networks. It's a process of learning and working on yourself that requires you to listen to people and be informed, she says. According to Ms. Lopez, one of the first things to do is to stop being so surprised. “We see a lot of shocks in white people, but for us, it's over and over and over again,” she says, recalling the recent death of Regis Korchinski-Paquette, a black woman from Toronto, who died under unclear circumstances, after falling from her balcony during a police intervention. “It's happening with our neighbours to the south, but also at just our neighbours,” recalls the academic coordinator.
“We don't need people who say, “I'm shocked” or “I'm ashamed” every time, Ms. Lopez continues. People need to take action. You have to listen, learn and act according to your abilities.” And acting, according to her, can take various forms: watching your friends' children while they go to a demonstration, picking up on a loved one who makes a racist comment, contacting your child's school to demand an anti-racist curriculum, calling for an anti-racist curriculum, donating to a fundraising campaign, reading to better understand the racial dimension of migration or environmental issues, relaying the message of an activist colored instead of speaking on his behalf, etc. “During some Demonstrations in the United States, white people formed human chains. There are so many small things that people can do, depending on their abilities.”
Redo your history course
There are also big things to do. Among them, of course, there is the revision of education. Webster — whose real name is Aly Ndiaye — is a musician, speaker and historical popularizer. For several years, he conducted guided tours of Old Quebec focusing on the history of Black people in New France. Instead of recounting the lives of Marguerite d'Youville and Samuel de Champlain, he evoked that of the slaves who worked for them and their collaborators — because, contrary to what Mr. Legault said at a press conference this week, there were indeed slaves in New France. “Understanding history makes it possible to understand where privilege comes from. The economic supremacy of the West is presented as something that happened by magic, but in reality, the place of Europe and the Americas in the world is a product of slavery and the massacre of Indigenous people.”
Webster invites us to consider “white” history from the perspective of Black and Indigenous people. Seen from an indigenous perspective, this “noble” conquest becomes a terrifying genocide, a prelude to centuries of marginalization, he notes. Then, he adds, “But even when [this perspective] is taught in schools, it is not given the same importance as the [white] perspective.” In his opinion, teaching more about Black and Indigenous perspectives would have the effect of “refocusing our understanding of citizenship.”
The limits of solidarity
But once we have redone our story courses, how do we act? An expert on whiteness and racism, Annette Henry, of the University of British Columbia, has a lot to say about the concept of ally. “You don't always pay attention to the words you use,” she says right away. People say, “I want to be an ally,” but they don't always know what that means.”
According to her, good intentions can lead to the infantilization of the person you are trying to help or, worse, to the reconstitution of power structures created by the omnipresence of privilege.
She notes that people who engage in solidarity gain privileges such as professional positions or social prestige. “Sometimes it's more “drinkable” for a white person to hear other white people deliver these messages. We then say: “They are so courageous to talk about it!” , while we black people talk to our colleagues about it every day! And they get resources and accolades that should go to the people they advocate for.”
“We live in a society where white people have certain privileges, and it's a headache, because we don't want to be treated like objects of charity.” As an illustration, Professor Henry gives the funny example of someone who told her that she would quit a job to offer it to him. “She tried so hard to recognize her privileges that she fell into nonsense.” The moment we We've talked, she was in the process of writing a list of racialized candidates for the position of dean at UBC. “If you If you have access to certain networks, why not give someone a quick pat on the shoulder and say, “Why not apply for this position? Why not consider this person? ”
Learning to be uncomfortable
“A lot of people who work in social justice circles don't pay us for our work and continue to take advantage of the systems and structures built on the backs of our ancestors,” summarize Alishia McCullough and Jessica Wilson, two Black American health professionals and activists, in an Instagram post. “They are continuing this legacy by taking advantage of our voices and experiences to increase their social capital and by using themselves of our knowledge, and then they put a price on their services. We need to demand accountability and ensure that, in the social justice community, people of color are paid for what they do.”
Sometimes, the strongest act of solidarity is knowing when to give in and learning, as an ally, to stop placing yourself at the center of the story. Annette Henry cites the example of an Aboriginal acquaintance trying to discourage a non-Aboriginal researcher from attending a non-mixed meeting. “At some point, you have to be able to say to yourself: “I'm there in case someone needs me, but this is not my place.” Some people are so used to being “central” that they have trouble taking a few steps back.” She gives the example of a talk given by journalist Desmond Cole at UBC where the organizers, during the question period, mostly gave the floor to racialized participants. “It can be difficult for some people, but when you have participants who are so excited to see someone who looks like them... remember to wait before asking your question.”
She insists not only on listening, but on taking action. “People often want kits, ready-made solutions, but how is that going to help them have difficult conversations? They invited a Chinese person into their class to tell them about their experience since the start of the COVID-19 pandemic, and she talked about it. Great. Now what do they plan to do? On June 1, Ms. Wilson and Ms. McCullough launched the Amplify Melanated Voices Challenge, which aims to increase the voice of people of color engaged on social media. They suggest temporarily “muting” white people who create social justice content, and instead highlight the contribution of racialized creators by sharing their work. They also invite all participants to reflect more deeply: “Think about how you see yourself, or not, be reflected on social networks... and consider how the predominant white perspective influences the way you see events. Then think about how the last week was different for you and what you learned from it. Do you feel more informed? Did you understand anything new? Are you uncomfortable? ”
Now the real work starts.