Try Walking In Black Women’s Shoes

I wear a “Stand with Black Women” button daily while working at the Connecticut state Capitol. I make this choice intentionally to create dialogue with our state elected officials — a dialogue that normally starts with a white man approaching me awkwardly and saying, “Well, I’m standing with you.” This week, the conversation surrounding my button was something I was not anticipating.

I approached state Sen. John Fonfara who represents the 1st District, covering the South End and parts of the North End of Hartford, where people of color make up 70 percent of the district. At the conclusion of my conversation with Sen. Fonfara about Senate Bill 13, “An Act Concerning the Fair Treatment of Incarcerated Women,” which primarily impacts black and brown women in our state, he pointed to me and said, “I need a ‘Stand with White Men’ button.” After I questioned him on this statement, he accused me of listening to propaganda and challenged me to walk a day in his shoes.

These comments — from someone who is elected by the people to represent a district that has some of the highest numbers of black and brown people in the state — are beyond disrespectful and are deeply rooted in white supremacy and patriarchy. Practices like this are one of the reasons why systemic racism and oppression continue to be perpetuated. When the people who are in power and making decisions over our lives make comments that are so disconnected from the lived experiences of their constituents, we see policy and practices play out in our communities that not only keep us at a disadvantage but are killing us. This week, I was reminded that for a black woman in political work, overt racism seems to be something that politicians, specifically white men, feel emboldened to perpetuate since the 2016 election.

Racism is not just presented when white supremacists carry torches and Nazi symbols, and when the president makes excuses for their violence. Racism and white supremacy are built into our economic, justice, housing, education and health systems in ways that many people don’t think about. We all have a responsibility to tear out the foundations of racism wherever we find it: in ourselves, our communities and our organizations. They show up in all facets of people’s lives, from unequal access to quality affordable housing, from effective education and economic opportunities to police brutality and an unjust immigration system.

Every day that I walk into the Capitol, I am reminded of the long history of systemic racism within our country and how it plays out in the halls of our statehouse. Institutional racism is embedded in the policies and discriminatory practices that routinely produce unjust outcomes for people of color — practices like pay inequity and the way women, and more specifically women of color, are routinely compensated less than a white man with the same job history and profile. In Connecticut, for every dollar a white man makes, black women are making 58 cents and Latina women 47 cents.

When elected officials make such out-of-touch comments as “You should walk in my shoes,” I would point them to the fact that black women have some of the highest health disparities in the country. Because of racism, sexism, classism, xenophobia and other systemic barriers, people of color in the United States are disproportionately unable to access and benefit from quality health care. Women of color die from cervical cancer at more than twice the rate of white women, and the U.S. is the only developed country with a maternal mortality ratio that has increased since 1990 despite improvements in health care. Black women in the U.S. are three and a half times more likely to die from pregnancy-related causes than their white counterparts.

We cannot achieve equity in a country and culture where systemic racism continues to block people of color from health care and other opportunities. I wish Sen. Fonfara and other white men could walk in my shoes and bear the burden and pain of racism, sexism and misogyny. If they did, there would be more policies and practices created to allow communities of color to thrive and survive.

Arvia Walker is public policy and strategic engagement specialist for Planned Parenthood of Southern New England.