Why It's Hard For Me to Be Friends With White Women.

What’s hard for me is feeling starved of access to the women that I feel most at home with. 

A couple of weeks ago, I posted a Substack note about my experience speaking to my white female yoga teacher about the racism I had encountered while partaking in a “BIPOC” scholarship  at the local circus school. 

I felt comfortable enough to open up to her after she told me how she had sew many black friends in her life, laughing about how silly “wokeness” is these days.

But when I vulnerably shared the actual racism I experienced with the folks next door, she literally did not have any response to it. When I finished telling my story, she immediately changed the subject, by launching straight into a monologue about her journey with misogyny. 

Perhaps her logic was that we were just talking about general “oppression” so she may as well add in her own experience too. What began as a mutual conversation, ended with her 10 minute monologue about her female journey, as my yoga time ticked away.

Whatever the deal was, I felt unheard. It was as if I had idiotically spoken to a brick wall, expecting it to respond back to me. 

The misogyny talk was extremely tone-deaf. 

And I also knew, that this sort of exchange would never happen in a million years if I were talking to a black woman. 

I was the only student who showed up for class that day, and by the time she was done talking, we only had 15 minutes left to stretch. 

She offered to comp my next class in exchange for the wasted time, which I accepted. I bought a 10-class package exclusively for the purpose of attending her Aerial classes—so I’ve been returning ever since, as if nothing happened. I still enjoy her classes.

I’m not even mad at her, because it’s nothing personal. This is very typical for a woman of her background. 

But that evening, I walked away with something I can only describe as a reminder:

I don’t like to talk about racism with white women. 

As I said in my Note, (which I brashly deleted along with dozens of others when I was feeling sad and wanting to crawl into a turtle shell):

“It’s too much teaching, too many blanks to fill in, too many blind spots to navigate, and too much emotional labor. They just can’t seem to empathize and connect with this integral aspect of my human experience.

…I think there are some white women who know what’s up but they are few and far between. And even then it doesn’t hold a candle to talking to a black woman who knows what’s up.”  

I made an internal note to be more cautious about who I open up to. 

The irony is that white women are the dominant population in my local area. My own personal connections are also primarily with white women.

I noticed how I’ve been feeling about that, and the dynamics I’ve encountered. I’d like to be fully open and honest about what this has brought up for me.