Do Better

by Rachel Ricketts

  Soulcare addresses such harm. It is the actions or inactions we undertake in order to best care for our soul and highest selves as opposed to our ego or skin regimen. It may be messy and hard and uncomfortable—indeed it often is. Soulcare is part of communal care and understands that we must care for one another, as well as ourselves, in order for any of us to truly be well. It says, “My well-being is intrinsically tied to the well-being of others, so I will undertake actions that help me be whole, happy, and healthy, even when it’s hard, so I can fulfill my purpose and contribute to fighting for the collective.” It is about giving ourselves what we need in order to nourish our beings so that we can get into the world and demand a more equal and more just planet for all. It is a form of ancestral care.

  Self-care often manifests as getting a mani-pedi, removing yourself from challenging convos, or consistently ignoring the consequences of white supremacist systems because they make you feel sad. It can be rooted in racist, classist, ableist, and patriarchal ideology. Soulcare manifests as setting healthy boundaries, tending to your inner child, declaring your needs, going to therapy, letting go of people, places, and things that oppress you or others, and healing your heart from your personal pain so you have capacity to support those most in need. As such, it is often based in spiritual offerings that support us in best supporting ourselves. For the record, I’m not knocking getting your nails did; I get mine done on the regz. What I’m saying is that soulcare isn’t about treating ourselves. It’s more like brushing your teeth—not something we necessarily love to do (I loathe it) but required for optimal health. Soulcare also appreciates that the people who are doing my nails often do not possess class, race, and gender privilege and that my need to feel good ought not supersede their access to basic humxn rights. Soulcare is about caring for ourselves in a deep and meaningful manner that arms us to better withstand our discomfort, face our shit, and ultimately care for the collective.

  What is deemed self-care versus soulcare is also dependent on the person in question. As a Black woman who is plagued by trauma porn of Black men+, women+, and children being murdered on the regular, my choice to pass on mass media from time to time is an act of soulcare. For example, I have many Black girlfriends who couldn’t bring themselves to watch the docuseries about the exonerated Central Park Five or R. Kelly’s sexual attacks because they’re too close to the trauma of our lived experience. And to that I say—soulcare on, my sistas! For Black women+, the pursuit of our joy can be a form of Spirit-led resistance. However, for a white or non-Black woman+ to claim it is too hard to endure watching such shows is quite another thing. Assuming there aren’t other trauma triggers involved, it is not their lived experience so it is uncomfortable at best, not triggering. Making the choice not to enlighten themselves about the anti-Black realities faced by so many is purely a play of privilege. Soulcare for white and non-Black folx in that instance would be making a point to watch those shows and doing so with an intentional plan to care for their hearts before, during, and after.

  * * *

  Racial justice is an act of remembering and recalibrating. It demands a comprehensive internal review. This is why I’ve included a soulcare prompt at the end of every chapter, to support you in supporting yourself through this daily and never-ending journey of addressing your wounds in order to help heal the wounds of the world. Spiritual Activism requires us to address our hurts and biases from the inside out, and it necessitates surrender. None of which are easy. I was recently learning how to float in the ocean (at thirty-five years young), and as I did, I noticed how hard it was to relax. No matter how much I wanted to float, no matter how many other body parts I softened, until I relaxed every inch and trusted I wouldn’t drown, floating simply wasn’t possible. As soon as I surrendered, my body followed suit and showed up to support me entirely. I floated to the surface—because that’s what the body wants to do. It is its natural response. But I was so stuck in my fight and fear I didn’t trust what was possible. Doing the inner work is a lot like learning to float. Your shadow will fight you and you’ll feel like you’re going to drown. Most of you may be on board, but your inner child won’t fucking relax and so the whole thing goes to shit, because every last ounce of you, your whole self, needs to relinquish in order to commit to racial justice. White supremacy starts within, and until we address what’s going on in our hearts as well as our minds, there’s no hope in hell of effectively eradicating oppression.

  The journey you’re about to take will not be easy. You will feel all the feels. Sometimes you will feel all those feels toward yourself and at times you will feel a lot of feelings about me. No matter how it manifests, it is vital that the inner work for the outer shift gets done. It starts here. It starts now. It starts with you.

  Spiritual Soulcare Offering/Call to Action

  Dancing with Your Inner Child

  This soulcare prompt is an opportunity to get into your body, connect with your inner child, and start addressing any unconscious hurts that may be obstructing your capacity to address how white supremacy exists within you and how you engage in racial justice. When we aren’t showing love to our shadow side and inner child, we can’t dive into our inner realms to unearth all that needs baring and caring for in order to show up for ourselves and others. So, let’s get connected!

  Find a quiet space alone where you can turn on your fave tune (or just one you love dancing to). After you hit “play,” turn it up, close your eyes, and move your body in whatever way you are able to and feels good, or simply envision yourself moving in your mind’s eye. No matter how silly you may feel or think you appear. This is a time to shake shit up and out. If you feel stuck, shake your hands or feet or nod your head if you’re able. Sing along in your mind or out loud. Let yourself take up space. As you move, envision your inner child is there dancing alongside you and cheering you on.

  However your inner child shows up is perfectly fine—maybe they appear like you did when you were little, maybe it’s a ball of light or just a feeling. Keep dancing and focus your energy on calling in your inner child. Listen for any messages or words of affirmation your inner child wants to share with you. Dance for the duration of the song (or longer if that feels good!). When you’re done, reflect on the following:

  How did it feel to get into my body?

  What, if anything, did my inner child share with me (words, images, emotions)?

  What has caused my inner child pain? How is that pain obstructing my ability to care for myself and others, especially Black and Indigenous women+?

  How can I better acknowledge the ways white supremacy has impacted my shadow self?

  In what ways has white supremacy caused me to deny, dissociate, and/or defend the truth of who I am?

  What does my inner child need more of? Perhaps play, rest, joy, support, etc.

  Take a few moments to journal these responses—or if you’re still in the mood to play, draw a picture or make up a dance or song to reflect each answer.

  If you find yourself feeling anxious or overwhelmed as you move through the book or beyond, come back to your inner child. Pause, check in, and ask what your inner child most needs.

  For more support moving through personal and collective grief, peep my curated grief resources list at www.rachelricketts.com/grief-resources.

  FOUR

  White Supremacy Runs the World

  I have never lived, nor have any of us, in a world in which race did not matter. Such a world, one free of racial hierarchy, is usually imagined or described as dreamscape—Edenesque, utopian, so remote are the possibilities of its achievement.

  —TONI MORRISON, “HOME,” THE HOUSE THAT RACE BUILT

  There isn’t a single safe space on the planet for Black women or femmes. I love singing along to Queen B’s “Run the World” anthem as much as anybody, but the hard truth is that girls do not run this world. Especially not Black and Indigenous women+ or girls+. All too often we discuss race solely in an American context when in reality
white supremacy and anti-Blackness are rampant worldwide. The modern hierarchal construct of race originated in Europe, though the United States really ran with it in a diabolical way. Yes, America has a specifically dire state of race relations built upon centuries of kidnapping, enslaving, and lynching Black people and committing genocide against Native Americans. But America was not the first nation to partake in racist acts, and it is certainly not alone in upholding and perpetuating systems of white supremacy today. To assert otherwise creates a false paradigm where non-American states and citizens refuse to acknowledge that racism, anti-Indigeneity, and anti-Blackness exist within their nation’s borders because it is an “American issue.”

  Over my years of living and traveling throughout the globe I’ve faced oppression on every single continent. During the year I lived in Scandinavia, often hailed as the most liberal and progressive region in the world, I was regularly subjected to anti-Blackness. My first night in Copenhagen was marked by a local leaning a few inches from my face to tell me how happy he was that his company didn’t have to hire any Black people. In Sweden, I witnessed numerous acts of aggression against Afro-Swedes by white cops and security guards. When I got married in Morocco a group of local teens screamed “nigger bitch” after me, and growing up steeped in the insidious and “polite” anti-Blackness of Canada was nothing short of traumatizing. These are but a few of the countless incidents that have served to remind me that I am othered, ostracized, and unsafe no matter where in the world I may be. The constant exotification and emphasis on being deemed different wherever I roam is exhausting and pervasive. For trans Black women+, even more so.

  Analyzing global white supremacy is a whole book in and of itself (whew, chile!), so we won’t get into the nitty gritty here. Still, learning the framework underpinning racial oppression is part of the spiritual work. We cannot genuinely dismantle systems we don’t fully understand.

  RACE AIN’T ACTUALLY REAL

  Fun fact: Race. Ain’t. Real! Not scientifically. The Human Genome Project (HGP) published its findings in 2003 breaking down the genetic blueprint for humxns and concluding that we are 99.9 percent genetically alike.1 The HGP researchers found that there was no support for the classification of humxns into distinguishable races. They also concluded that humxns share similar genetic makeup with bananas—so in case you needed a humbling moment today, there it is!

  Despite race being a genetic, scientific, and biological fallacy, the impacts of race are very real and monumental in significance. Access to housing, health care, education, justice, immigration, upward mobility, equal pay, social supports, and the like are all directly influenced by the concept of race. I would happily do away with the concept of race. Who counts as what race, and when, can be incredibly arbitrary (as many multiracial folx will tell you). And we all descended from the womb of an African woman in the first place!2 But white supremacy has made damn sure that all BI&PoC are oppressed because of race, so white supremacy is the reason it must be taken into account.

  Race is now pervasively accepted as a social construct, something created by and agreed upon within society. But what does it really mean when we say race is a social construct? Race did not pop up by happenstance. It is a concept that was intentionally created by white folx, to ensure they retained power and privilege to the detriment and exclusion of everybody else—being those who were not classified as “white.” It was and remains a source of evil.

  WHAT IS RACISM REALLY?

  The modern concept of race was created by and for the empowerment of those who qualify as white, and this is the heart of what racism is and how it operates. Contrary to dictionary definitions created by white people to maintain white innocence*, racism is a global system of race-based hierarchy, oppression, and discrimination created by and for the benefit of white people (read that again). Racism is the culmination of prejudice*, privilege (a subset of power), and power as only held by white or, at times, white-passing individuals. What does that mean? Let’s break it down.

  Prejudice

  Prejudice, based on prejudgment, is a feeling toward a person or group member based solely on that person’s group membership. All humxns hold prejudices about others for a vast variety of reasons, not all of which are negative. Race-based prejudices include things like assuming Black people are criminal or Indigenous folx are alcoholics. Gender-based prejudices include believing all women and femmes are overly emotional, and a heteronormative* prejudice is believing trans women aren’t women.

  Privilege

  A privilege is a special right, advantage, or immunity granted or available only to a particular person or group of people. We observe a lot about white privilege, and in the context of race it is certainly the most important, but there are many privileges pertaining to lots of things in addition to race, for example gender identity, sexual orientation, ability, class, citizenship, skin color, ethnicity, body type, and more. Any person of any race can hold a privilege; for example, I am cisgender, non-disabled, neurotypical, and financially secure. All of these are privileges because I and others who fall within the dominant group for the category in question inherently (meaning without intention or action) hold a special right or advantage simply by virtue of belonging to that group.

  As International Ambassador for Black Lives Matter Janaya Future Khan states, “Privilege isn’t about what you’ve gone through; it’s about what you haven’t had to go through.”3 Privilege permits us to disregard the impact of issues simply because they do not impact us personally. In the context of race, holding white privilege does not mean your life has been easy, but it does mean your life has been easier as a result of never having to endure racial oppression—whether you’re aware of that advantage or not (and you’re usually not). Examples of white privilege include regularly witnessing people who are the same as you portrayed in media, not having your community relegated to a reserve, not having to contend with the ongoing trauma that comes from generations of enslaved ancestors, and getting hired without others assuming you got the job because of your race, though in many ways, due to the insidious benefits created by white privilege, you likely did #thankyouwhiteness.

  Power

  Power in the global sense can be described as the legitimate or legal ability to access or directly control or influence all institutions sanctioned by the state. Unlike prejudice and privilege, power belongs solely to whiteness. As we saw with the classification of race, white folx have intentionally orchestrated global systems to ensure they maintain power and privilege, meaning in most cases economic and political power. Part of power is knowing that no matter where you are in the world, you can call state authorities to uphold your legal rights because both the global hierarchy of laws as well as those put in place to enforce it were created to ensure your safety and success. In America, this manifests as white people calling the cops, who originated as Southern slave patrols, any time they feel unsafe. And power is knowing the cops will believe you. This access to control extends past Western borders into predominantly BI&PoC territories as well.

  In daily life, these racial power dynamics play out nonstop. For example, if I run a shop in London and I refuse to sell my goods to white folx, that’s an act of racial prejudice. But, as a Black woman, I lack power. I do not have the ability to create unbridled harm against white people as a result of that prejudice. Black people neither created nor operate the British judicial, health, or political systems such as to have a detrimental impact on the lives and livelihood of white people. They will always find a store to serve them. My prejudice may serve as a temporary annoyance, but that’s it. In fact, it is likely that I will face the most repercussions for my prejudice, because white folx hold the most financial power (so my customer base decreases) and their access to the state means they are likely to successfully persecute me for my prejudiced behavior, which is not the case when white or white-passing folx act prejudicially toward non-whites, even when we are murdered by white agents of the state.

  Wha
t I’m driving home is that racism is a system of white supremacy that can only be exerted by white and, when perceived as white, white-passing folx, and them alone. Only white and white-passing people are racist because racism is about power. Any assertion that non-white-passing BI&PoC can be racist is misguided and dangerous. Racism was created by white people, is operated by white and white-passing people, and benefits white and white-passing people. All white and white-passing people. Be it tangibly or intangibly, financially, emotionally, physically, and/or psychically. Be it rich or poor, straight or queer, North American or European, cisgender or not.

  And all white people are racist. Yes, all. Of. Y’all (even you, Linda). Whether you like it or not or intend to be or not. Simply by virtue of belonging to whiteness all white people perpetuate and benefit from the global system of white supremacy—on an individual and collective level. As do white-passing people in the situations they are considered white-passing. Take a moment right now and let that really sink in. Racism can be individual, institutional*, or systemic*, but it can only be perpetuated by white folx. Racism and white supremacy are in no way exceptional. They constitute the normal everyday status quo of societies around the world. To be white is to be racist. Just as being heterosexual is to be transphobic and being non-disabled is to be ableist. It is not an if but rather a how.

  This isn’t easy to receive, but I assure you, it’s way harder to endure. So let’s press “pause.” Take a long, deep breath and note what’s coming up. You may feel sad or mad. You might have some raw and real emotions. Whatever you feel: observe. Get curious about what your feelings want you to know. Keep breathing and let’s keep at it.