Recovering from Racism, Sister by Sister

(c) Sheridan Hill 1998 (originally published in the Winston-Salem Journal, April 8, 1998)

An historical event took place in a small southern city on March 27-28, 1998: The sisterhood was resurrected. But "Sister to Sister," born after a year of careful planning by the Winston-Salem Urban League, wasn't about women's rights. It was about the power of women to fearlessly come together in search of truth.

More than 300 black and white women aged from 18 to 80 planted our feet firmly and listened deeply to what is too painful to see in our every day lives: What keeps us apart?

The attendees were largely middle class: high-placed representatives from most major corporations and many organizations, doctors, lawyers and Ph.D.s, a handful of local and state-level politicians, and self-employed consultants. There were also single working women and mothers with daily concerns about meeting the basic human needs of their families.

Many of the black women courageously shared their pain as well as their biases. One black woman recalled her mother's fervent instructions to her as a child, "Don't ever, ever get caught alone around a group of white men, because you just never know what might happen."

Several black women acknowledged that seeing a white woman on the arm of a black man makes them feel betrayed.

For most of the white women, Sister to Sister was a matter of opening to our own racial bias. More than one white woman said she was not prejudiced, only to remember evidence to the contrary: Lost and driving at dusk near 14th Street, seeing five black men standing on the corner and fearfully locking the car doors. Or exclaiming at the end of a hard day, "They worked me like a nigger!" Or drawing conclusions about black teenagers who carry pagers.

A white woman admitted her fear that if she extends her friendship to black women, she will be rejected.

"White women especially have to step outside the comfort zone and be willing to take risks," said Sharon D. Anderson, a human relations trainer. "Once you begin to see what is happening, you're going to have to call other white people on it, and it won't be comfortable. It doesn't make you popular."

Deloris Huntley, who directs family development for the Winston-Salem Urban League, said simply, "Whatever it is that has separated us, we need to drop it." With the help of a 30 member planning committee, Huntley spent the past year coordinating Sister to Sister with a passion that borders on ferocity. She has already begun planning the next conference, scheduled for the last weekend in March, 1999.

After the small groups met, we assembled again at the end of the day. A white woman raised her hand and said, "I realize I am a recovering racist and I need a sponsor. Will someone sponsor me?" Several black women raised their hand and Florence Corpening, president and CEO of the Winston-Salem YWCA, reached across to clasp the woman's hand and said, "I will be your sponsor."

We agreed that what affects one of us affects us all, and what harms your child harms mine.

We began to understand what it would take to trust each other. JoAnna Fireman, a local counselor, said, "Now we must figure out how to take the next steps to actually build trust: How do we speak up; call each other on the phone? How do we keep it going? Each one of us has to be willing to take some risks."

D. Smith, long-time Urban League president and the catalyst for Sister to Sister, said, "I think women are going to take on the concerns that came out of the sessions -- and take them on with a vengeance." Indeed, before going home to our loved ones, most of the small groups had decided to continue meeting on their own.

We don't know what will come next. Some of us are concerned about school redistricting. Some want to know how more of us can live together in the same neighborhoods.

Others want a chance to work out their personal fears with   people of other races. This we do know: The bone-tingling experience of sharing our stories has changed us.

We can't go back to the way we were. We have dared utter the unspoken fears that clamor in our hearts. We held ourselves open to the pain of the past, looked courageously at the gulf between us, and now that we have joined arms, it doesn't seem so big and scary after all.

More than anything, it seems we have only just begun.

• For information about Sister to Sister, call the Winston-Salem Urban League, 336 / 725-5614.

See In Defense of Men I never thought I'd be the one to stand up for men's rights....

Go to Getting My Black Eye (how I gained insight into the black perspective).

Sister to Sister article on beating racism by Sheridan Hill.
visitors stopped by since September 1998. Thanks!