This is very personal to me. My husband and daughter are black. My daughter hates herself because of her brown skin. My daughter is everything that is perfect about being African American. Her hair is glorious in its natural state, thick curls crown her beautiful head. Her brown skin is a shade I baked myself as a teen trying to achieve (I never did, I got red and blotchy before Iâd peel). Sheâs stunningly beautiful. And sheâs a REALLY good kid. And she only wants to be blonde and light-eyed.
Why? Because of how she is treated. Sheâs kind, articulate, honest, and has strong opinions. She reads, and sheâll argue a point to exhaustion if you donât share her opinion. If she were white, sheâd be voted most likely to be a CEO of a Fortune 500 company. But, because sheâs black sheâs told sheâs âtoo muchâ, should try being âless opinionatedâ and âless honestâ and âless argumentativeâ. Yes, seriously. She was told by her peers and teacher all of this. My daughter is a LOT like me. I was never, not ever, told any of this. Not by anyone. Not even when I ended up in a principalâs office for telling a physics teacher what I thought of him in very colorful language. Why is that? Because I am white.
For those of you who frequent our Bay Area Farmerâs Markets, you probably know my husband. Heâs Tall, dark and handsome. Heâs also kind and generous of spirit. He would give anyone the shirt off his back if he thought they needed it more than him. Heâs from the South. Arkansas. He is polite to those older than him, heâs kind to animals, he opens doors for strangers and makes our daughter and I walk on the inside of a sidewalk. He has old school manners. But to some, heâs a threat. He walks into a store or a restaurant and people take notice, heâs impressive. But they look past HIM, past his smile, past his kind eyes and go right to he must be dangerous because heâs a big black man.
When my husband goes out with his friends for a beer, like I go out with my friends for a glass of wine, heâs had the police called on him for NOT having a drink in his hand. Again, yes. Seriously. Heâs been stopped while walking to his car because he matched the description of someone who had been in a fight. The description? A black male adult. I can get together with my friends and not drink, walk to my car, and never be approached by a police officer. I can get pulled over, be snarky and rude and not be told to exit my vehicle while a hand rests on the butt of a pistol. Neither my daughter nor my husband are granted this freedom. My daughter is being raised in a white world, by a white mother in a mostly white, affluent area. But because her father is black, she is treated differently than those who are being raised exactly the same way, but who show up white.
This is why people of color are fed up. This is what MUST stop. We need to stop assuming because of the color of someoneâs skin that are âbadâ or âless thanâ or âmore like toâ than anyone else. This is what it means to have the advantage of âwhite privilegeâ. We as a Nation need to face our prejudice. Itâs uncomfortable. It should be. We have systematically oppressed people of color for hundreds of years. We ask them to follow our rules, but then we ourselves donât hold ourselves accountable to those rules. We tell all our citizens they are created equal, but we donât treat them as equals. Itâs time to start.
We at Frog Hollow Farm stand with ALL people of color. We take a knee beside you. I personally, besides my husband and daughter, hear you, see you, and support each and every one of you who are in this fight.
Black Lives Matter.
- Sarah Coddington, Co-Owner