May 25, 2021 by Stacey S. Joseph for ImpactEDI™
Stereotypes, false narratives, prejudice, and racism are all rooted in bias. At the one end of the continuum they can be hurtful and inconvenient; at the other end, they can cost people their lives. What I learned about George Floyd this past year is that he was a son who loved his mother. He was a father who adored and protected his daughter; and a willing and committed co-parent to her mom. He brought enduring love and laughter to his entire family and kinship circle, and to the woman he called his love. He was an athlete, a musician, an advocate for inclusive culture, and a hugger, and he was known to many as a “quiet personality, with a gentle spirt.” Quite contrary to the popular narrative of countless Black men who die at the hands [or in this case, the knee] of police officers, George Floyd, like many of these men, was a lovely human being. And his story, is in actuality, not unlike many Americans.
For a while, George Floyd was part of the 4.5% of Americans included in the National Unemployment Rate, and simultaneously a part of the disproportionate 11.4% Unemployment Rate for African Americans. He was a part of the 14 million Americans who migrate to find employment (moving from Houston to Detroit), and part of the 13 million Americans who work more than one job in order to make ends meet.
It’s true, like a near 20 million Americans, George Floyd struggled off and on with addiction and substance abuse disorder, which he sought help for and at times overcame. Being 3 times more likely to catch COVID-19 (as a Black person), George Floyd had contracted the novel coronavirus, and had defied the odds (as a Black man) of having it claim his life. Also true, like over 40% of non-Hispanic African Americans, George Floyd had high blood pressure/hypertension. As a result of intersecting historical social inequities in the food, drug, healthcare, and environmental industries, George Floyd, had also been previously diagnosed with the number one killer for all Americans – Heart Disease. Hypertension as a contributing factor to Heart Disease and Stroke, are the leading causes of death in the United States. All of these illnesses and pre-existing conditions, George Floyd carried in his body a daily basis; making him (for all intents and purposes) a medical fatality waiting to happen. And yet, it would take 9 minutes and 29 seconds of the knee of a white police officer kneeling on his neck, to end his life.
It’s a year to the date, and I, like countless others worldwide, [and thanks to the Upstanding of 17 year old Darnella Frazier] have held onto (whether willingly or unwillingly) the image of George Floyd’s life being snuffed away by Derek Chauvin, while other police officers (all under the same oath to “protect and serve”) contributed, and at least one stood looking away. That moment in time, in the history of our country and our world, will forever be etched in the minds and hearts of all those everywhere who bore witness. We are all a part of the story. And by all counts, whether we’d like to accept it or not, this story, of a man who in American society, by every measure, is already ‘down’, and is literally and figuratively taken down for good, is if ever there were one, an “All-American” Story.
Like most stories, there are lessons to be learned from this story. There are questions; really tough questions that we need to ask ourselves, and we need to be willing to face the hard honest answers with courage and conviction, in order to truly learn the lessons. And then of course there are actions that we need to not only take, but that we need to commit to, and follow up on consistently, and continuously, if we truly desire to make impact, and see lasting change.
Some of the really hard questions that I’ve been asking myself is – How am I complicit? How do I show up in spaces in ways that support systems that feed and nurture the myth of white supremacy? When I occupy spaces where I hold a level a privilege, even the slightest bit of privilege, and I witness othering, stereotyping, and bias, or I hear and/or feel the presence of a false narrative taking form, or prejudice rising, or racism, what are the circumstances in which I speak up?, and what are the reasons that I remain silent? Why do I, look away? And, what does it mean to be an Upstander?
This year, through my company ImpactEDI™, I’ve facilitated numerous trainings and workshops on Upstanding and Allyship. In the breakout sessions, I ask participants to identify where they might be on the Ally Action Continuum, and we deep dive into action steps that can be taken to move from being an active participant/offender in systems of oppression, towards being a conspirator and dismantler in abolishing such systems, and moving all of us/the collective, closer to liberation, in all ways that liberation can be manifested. We all know that change doesn’t happen over night. And, it is said (and I agree) that the hardest part about change is taking action. The thing about action and Upstanding is that they’re contagious. Just think about it. Darnella Frazier was walking to the corner store with her 9-year-old cousin when she saw George Floyd pinned on the ground, begging for air saying, “I can’t breathe.” She said, it was “just a normal day” for her and that she was “not even prepared for what she was about to see.”
“I didn’t know this man from a can of paint, but I knew his life mattered,” Frazier, wrote on Facebook. “I knew that he was in pain. I knew that he was another black man in danger with no power.”
In that moment, Darnella decided to use what little privilege she had in that space, and began to film. Once she began to film, another bystander [turned Upstander] took action and began to film too; and then another. Darnella shared her video on social media, and then some individual who saw it took action and shared it, and then another, and then another…., and that one action she took fueled a worldwide stance of solidarity, declaring that Black Lives Matter. This is the part of this story that holds hope for us all. This is the part of the story that I have sat with, and thought about, and held in my body, along with George Floyd’s cries for his mama. This part of the story has led me to offer up these four simple questions during the various ED&I trainings that I’ve been asked to facilitate during this one year wake of the lynching of George Floyd. I’ve asked participants to sit with them, and hold them in their mind and their hearts, until they are moved to action.
What have you heard? What are you seeing? What will you do? When will you do it?
And until action spreads like wildfire, making every space that we occupy spaces of liberation, Perhaps there is yet another question to ponder with a more immediate (and perhaps simpler) call to action: How can I show up in spaces, and make space for every identity, and support every individual so that they feel a sense safety and belonging, and make that space, a space where everyone can breathe.
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Stacey S. Joseph, CDP, ODCP, MBA
Stacey Joseph is a Certified Diversity Professional, Certified Somatic Practitioner, and Founder of ImpactEDI™. She facilitates trainings, workshops, and somatic healing sessions around diversity, inclusion, radicalized trauma, and creating safe spaces of belonging. She is also a regular contributor to the ImpactEDI™ blog.