You aren’t like them. You’re different. You aren’t REALLY Black.

Even as a middle-schooler, I knew that there was something messed-up about that statement; although every time it was uttered to me, by one of my earnest white “friends”, I recognized that it was meant to be a compliment.

That’s one of the quagmires of racism: it’s oftentimes quite civil – even polite. Racist ideals are so embedded in America’s fabric that racial-ignorance is passed around white dinner tables as freely and innocuously as stove-top stuffing and mayonnaise-laden casseroles — leaving most white folks extremely unprepared to navigate relationships with Black and brown folks. Unlike Black people, whose education about how to interact with white folks starts before preschool; white folks have had the privilege of not having to consider race or how to interact properly with people different from them.

But perhaps most significantly, it’s also usually pointless to do so. 99.9% of the time that a Black person accuses a white person of saying something racist, the white person will vehemently deny it, and eventually become the victim in the situation. Indeed, the Black person is then usually cast as the bad guy for having accused them. Racist remarks are frequently deemed harmless because they are almost always delivered politely; and white people think that racism only equates to people in white hoods screaming “nigger.” So they think that if they tell you that your people ain’t shit — but they say it nicely – they have somehow sanitized themselves as “not having a racist bone in their bodies”.

Accordingly, we, Black folks, stay quiet about any slights; and we utilize the skills our parents taught us since birth on how to be successful in America (which is synonymous for how to get along with white people). Black people have long learned and internalized the basic premise that the more comfortable you make white people, the more successful you will be. We must “get along” in order to “get ahead.” Hence, many white people think that they have friendships with Black people; when those Black people are actually just doing what they have to do – what they were taught to do to – to survive in America.

So, when Rhode Island State Representative, Patricia Morgan tweeted that she used to have a Black friend; most Black folks knew that she didn’t. She had a Black person who was playing the role of her friend.

As much as all of us want to believe in racial harmony; cross-racial friendships are difficult (as opposed to “situationships” where you are friendly to each other because you work in the same place, or live in the same neighborhood, or have children who go to the same school). Even when they do exist; it’s likely that the Black friend has overlooked some offensive, yet well-meaning micro-aggression (not because the white friend doesn’t love the Black friend, but because they didn’t get the same cross-cultural education as their Black friend.). Oftentimes, the Black friend ultimately gets weary of pretending and biting her tongue and – like Representative Patricia Morgan’s “Black friend” probably did during a discussion about Critical Race Theory (CRT) – goes off. It wasn’t the first offense, just the last.

 

So, if white people want to establish genuine friendships with Black people; they must do the following:

1. Own your privilege. Being white doesn’t means that you haven’t had problems; but it mean that your race wasn’t one of them.
2. Realize that you are culturally illiterate and you will make mistakes. It will be hard but be willing to listen, learn and improve.
3. Own that race is real. We aren’t friends because we don’t see color. I expect you to see me, see my color, and understand the implications.
4. While you see my color, don’t make it the only thing that you see. If you refer to me as your “Black friend,” then we ain’t really friends.
5. Own that racism is real. Don’t deny racism when your black friends complain. We don’t want you to make us feel better about it. We want your support — your indignation, your outrage.
6. Understand that your feelings will not be prioritized over Black people’s truth. If you screw-up; you need to be open to hearing about it and learning from it.
7. Understand that sometimes you will feel uncomfortable, guilty, angry, etc. 
8. Don’t expect us to code-switch to make you more comfortable.
9. Don’t expect your Black friends to educate you – educate yourself on your own.
10. Do not take on Black characteristics, dialect, etc. Be you. Appreciate but don’t appropriate.
11. Do not give us your Black-resume. When you tell us that you dated a Black guy in college, or have been to three countries in Africa, or took an African American History class; it illustrates that you are uncomfortable, not comfortable, with our difference.
12. Don’t expect us to come to functions where we are the only people of color.
13. Understand that sometimes Black folks want to be with Black folks – and only Black folks. You will not be invited to everything.
14. Don’t use your friendship with us to prove to yourself and to others that you are “woke” liberal, or charitable.
15. Check your racist friends and family members even when we aren’t around (and understand when we don’t want to come around them).
16. Believe us when we say that a person is racist. We notice subtle things that you may not.
17. If you are my friend, I expect you to care about issues in my community that matter to me – even when it’s not trendy.
18. Learn that your political affiliation  does not make you automatically “down”.
19. Accept that we know what it is to be Black more than you do.  The “what Black folks should do” conversations are laughable. We don’t want your advice. Although you are accustomed to being in a position where you are supervising, advising Black people (due to our white supremacist society), you have zero credentials in what it is to be and live as a Black person. 
20.  Erase from your vocabulary any statements such as: “there is just one race, the human race”.  Black people would love if this was the ideology that this country was built on and that governs it today.  It isn’t.  Race and racial differences were deliberately constructed and enforced by the founders of this country to justify slavery.  Race is baked into every system of our society (health, justice, housing, banking, etc.).  Unfortunately, the reality and impact of the legacy and power of race in America doesn’t disappear because of good feelings.  You don’t get to bask in the idea of racial harmony, while we live the reality of racial hostility and inequity.
21. Erase the idea that the fact that one Black person achieved some sort of accomplishment is evidence that racism no longer exists.
22. Interracial friendships and relationships are beautiful, but are not proof that racism is going away, or even that the people in those relationships can’t also be racist.  
23.  Realize that many groups are marginalized; but no other group has the same history as Black Americans. A white woman’s fight for equality in America is not the same as a Black American’s. 
24. Lastly, understand that many Black people may not want to be your friend.  When you have had to operate in largely white settings, almost every day, for almost all of your life, it can be fatiguing.  It’s work.  There is a reason that many of us don’t attend after work happy hours and neighborhood potlucks.  Historically, the onus has always been on us to make the relationships work, to talk about the issues or current events that matter to you or make you feel more comfortable instead of what’s on our minds, to assimilate when it comes to our hair, dress, dialect, humor, interest, food choices, and on and on and on. And, many of us don’t trust you.  If you think for a moment about our country’s history, it shouldn’t surprise you that while our ancestors taught us how to get along with you; many simultaneously taught us not to trust you.   

I recognize that many people will be put-off at the suggestion that being a good friend to a Black person should require so much work.  This feeling only further proves how uninformed white people have been to the true nature of cross-racial friendships:  they’ve always been work for us.  We have been silently carrying the burden of relational-compromise  and of cross-cultural education since the beginning of these relationships (when we could be killed, whipped, or sold if the relationship failed).  Now it’s time for our relationships to be balanced so that they can also be genuine. If you consciously work to learn what it means to be a true friend to a Black person; maybe one day we can say to you:

You Aren’t Like Them. You’re Different. You Aren’t Really White.