Black Lives Matter. Black Books… not so much right now

For months now, Stephanie (who works in advertising) and I have laughed and rolled our eyes in private at the commercials and promotional emails generated in the time of corona, asking ourselves, which is more off-putting: corporations’ ham-fisted, clunky attempts to address the pandemic while peddling their wares to an anxious and grieving public (“Burger King is here for you during this difficult time,” “here’s how we’re handling the crisis at Sephora!”), or just bypassing it altogether, carrying on as if it’s business as usual? There’s no right answer—they’re both awkward and laughable at best, tone-deaf and offensive at worst.

Working on a goofy podcast about silly sitcoms feels kinda pointless right now. Escapism has its uses, but it also has its limits. Honestly… it’s a little embarrassing to listen to myself and Steff reveling in the whimsical antics of Bernard Black and Manny Bianco while the world burns. All our Anglophilia episodes, which we recorded months or weeks ago, are set to auto-release on Tuesdays, and apart from our pandemic special about Shaun of the Dead (recorded in mid-March, just as the country was beginning to shut down), we’ve erred on the side of not addressing the state of the world. But in light of the unprovoked explosion of police violence in the last week, silence doesn’t really seem like an option anymore. It may be clunky, it may be preaching to the choir, it may be cringe-y for a white girl to get up on a soapbox at this moment, it may be largely irrelevant to the work we do on this podcast (and that in itself may be part of the problem), but it needs to be said, by us, and by everyone with a conscience and half a brain: BLACK LIVES MATTER. 

There are a few reasons for speaking up about current events when we haven’t earlier (apart from our obligatory “fuck Trump”s that are sprinkled throughout most of our episodes). One difference between the coronavirus and the police’s relentless terrorization of Black citizens is that the latter problem is entirely man-made. Sure, the unprecedented greed, incompetence, apathy, and outright cruelty of this administration has exacerbated the former, resulting in 100,000 preventable deaths (which, surprise surprise, are disproportionately ravaging communities of color), but underlying systemic/societal issues aside, I think everyone’s at least in agreement that it would be great if the coronavirus magically disappeared (even if we’re smart enough to know that it won’t). But with white supremacy—which is woven into the founding of our country, permeates every facet of our culture (including, yes, the brilliant and beloved shows we talk about on this podcast), and infects us all from such a young age that we can’t even see it—not everyone is even on board that it’s a bad thing! The pandemic disrupts business as usual; the brutalization of Black bodies at the hands of the police (and others), often with impunity, is all the more chilling because it IS business as usual. The pattern has persisted for centuries, and white people are only now starting to pay attention, thanks to copious video evidence, the internet, and the camel buckling a little more under the weight of each new straw. And there are so. Many. Damn. Straws.

As lifelong angry feminists, Steff and I had mixed feelings about the #MeToo movement when it began. Ultimately, of course we’re grateful it happened, because it represented a significant cultural shift, started some important conversations, and took down *some* (though not all) of the most notorious abusers whose crimes had been an open secret for decades. But on the other hand, we felt that focusing on such egregious examples of misogyny and abuse of power gave cover to our more “benignly” or unintentionally sexist male friends and family. By comparing themselves to monsters, they could view themselves as totally-not-sexist feminist allies, simply by virtue of always voting blue and not being a serial rapist. ::sarcastic slow clap:: You don’t get Brownie points for doing the bare minimum, boys. Have you sought out feminist literature/art, entertainment, and media created by women? Have you called out sexist “locker room talk”? Have you examined your own interactions with, attitudes toward, and sense of entitlement to your female friends, colleagues, relatives, dates? The same principle applies here: it’s not enough for us to be internally disgusted at “those” racists we see on the news. It’s not enough to not be the one who pulls the trigger, wields the baton, or constricts the windpipe. It’s also not enough to sign the online petition du jour, tweet out a sympathetic hashtag, and then move on with our lives until the next public lynching goes viral and the cycle repeats. We have to do better. People of color are (and have been) paying for our comfort and ignorance with their lives.

I know it’s tempting to melt into a useless puddle, throw up our hands and say, “but what can I do??” It’s tempting to shut out the world, turn off the news, and cower under our covers while we nostalgically rewatch our favorite sitcoms from what we (wrongly) perceive to be gentler, happier times. And perhaps most dangerously for our brothers and sisters of color, it’s tempting to draw a hard line between us and the Amy Coopers or Derek Chauvins of the world rather than recognizing the hidden biases and ugly similarities we share with them. Life in America is a fucking horror movie for Black people, and the ending is entirely too predictable: the call is coming from inside the house. The monster is us.

 We as white people have a moral obligation to confront racism: structurally, interpersonally, and within ourselves. We can’t grade ourselves on a curve, point to the most heinous displays of white supremacy, and sigh with relief that this makes us “one of the good ones.” ‘Cause here’s the terrible truth: none of us are the good ones; there ARE no good ones. But we must strive to be *better* ones.

 Stephanie and I have donated all of our Anglophilia Patreon profits for the year (and then some) to the following organizations. If you can, consider making a donation:

And here are some lists of recommended reading:

 

(And, I’m sorry to close this earnest message with a ham-handed tie-in, but since today’s podcast episode *is* about an independent bookshop, it is actually relevant: if you don’t feel like giving your money to Amazon, I recommend purchasing your educational reading through bookshop.org, which supports local bookstores.)

We love you, Anglophiles. Stay safe, do the hard work, and keep fighting the good fight.

Stephanie Callasblack lives matter, blackout tuesday, aclu, metoo, #blacklivesmatter, #metoo, trump, protest, demonstrations, george floyd1 Comment