It’s Not About Me

It's Not About Me

I sit in discomfort.

I listen, watch, notice, process, repeat.

I don’t understand and know that I will never understand.

I am scared. Scared of saying the wrong thing.

But it’s not about me.

It’s not about me.

Even though I have so much to learn, I do know that I would rather speak up, risk getting it wrong, and learn through the process, than to say nothing at all. These conversations need to happen. I want to be better. I am an ally.

I find this definition by Kayla Reed of what it means to be an ally, shared with me by Jennifer Casa-Todd, to be very powerful, because speaking up isn’t enough.

Thank you to all of those who have filled my social media feeds with your stories, your voices, your realities. Thank you for opening my eyes to things I’ve never thought twice about because of my white privilege. Thank you for being brave, honest, open, and vulnerable. Storytelling is a powerful tool, and it is these stories that have tugged at my heartstrings and impacted me the most. I believe these stories will continue to push people to sit in discomfort, have hard conversation, and act to create change. People of colour have always had stories to share and it is imperative that we empower them to continue sharing while taking the time to listen so we can all learn and grow together. For this reason, I am stepping aside. I am making room for these important stories to be shared. I am yielding the floor.

I may not have all of the right words and I certainly know that I have so much to learn, but I am here, by your side, shouting that Black Lives Matter. I can only hope that offering a safe place for people to speak up is a good first step; that showing my support in my public following leads to some good. I know I can do more. I want to do more. What? How? The post below that I came across on Facebook, and the article How you can be an ally in the fight for racial justice shared with me by my friend Sacha, have provided many pathways of what allies like me can do. I strongly encourage you to read both in their entirety.

I don’t have a powerful closing statement.

I don’t have comforting words to offer.

My heart is broken. We need to do better.

2 Comments

  1. Jennifer Casa-Todd

    June 6, 2020 at 6:32 pm

    Once again, I am so moved by how you seem to capture sentiments in such powerful and meaningful ways. I too do not know what to say or what the right or wrong thing is, but I keep learning. Thank you for the reminder that it’s not about me.

    1. Annick Rauch

      June 6, 2020 at 8:23 pm

      Thanks, Jen. I feel like that’s all we can ask for. To keep learning and growing so our discomfort becomes easier to embrace and lead to action and change.

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