“Be careful that you don’t practice your religion in front of people to draw their attention. If you do, you will have no reward from your Father who is in heaven. Whenever you give to the poor, don’t blow your trumpet as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets so that they may get praise from people. I assure you, that’s the only reward they’ll get.But when you give to the poor, don’t let your left hand know what your right hand is doing so that you may give to the poor in secret. Your Father who sees what you do in secret will reward you.” Matthew 6:1-4, CEB
Okay folks, this week I’m preaching to myself. It’s October, so naturally I’ve already watched like 20 horror movies for my favorite spooky time of year. And every movie, I find myself yelling at the stupid person on the screen who is walking towards the scary noise on purpose, who is splitting up from the group, who is running upstairs or into the basement to get away from the monster. Don’t these people have any basic survival instincts?!
In 2017, Jordan Peele introduced us to Get Out, one of the best takes on modern race relations I’ve seen in a long time. The movie is just as much about the horrors of benevolent, or casual racism as it is about blatant or violent racism. If you don’t know what I mean by benevolent or casual racism, I mean any statement or action that others someone for their difference. In Get Out, all these supposedly well-meaning white people keep complimenting the black protagonist on his genetic make-up, his physical appearance, that black skin is now “in fashion.” Regardless of whether the speaker realizes the inherent racism even in a “compliment,” a superior/inferior dichotomy is maintained by elevating the differences between one group and another. Black people know what’s cool. Gay people have the best fashion. Women are nurturing. Disabled people are kind but helpless. I want you to feel like I’m interested in you, all the while reminding you that you are not like me, reinforcing my assumptions about what you should or should not be.
So unless you’ve got a swastika tattoo, the vast majority of us are going to declare: I’m not racist! I can’t believe racism still exists! I’m not homophobic/sexist/ableist/xenophobic/etc.etc.etc.!!! When you and I put ourselves in that sort of “I’m not racist” category, we exempt ourselves from any self-reflection, and therefore, we exempt ourselves from the possibility of healing. America seems to be chock full of “not-racists,” and yet black, asian, hispanic, latino and others tell us every day about their constant and ongoing experiences with racism. All of us “not-racists” think we must be the ones who have transcended racism. As if we’re the ones watching the horror movie, yelling at the idiot on screen to stay out of the basement.
Ultimately, this week’s comic is a commentary on performative allyship, more casually called slacktivism. In an age of social media and progressive ideals being branded and capitalized through marketing, so many of us fall into the trap of thinking we’ve done our part when we express our outrage online, when we wear that Nike rainbow shirt, when we put up a sign on the lawn and a hashtag at the end of our post. It makes us feel good. We did something. We showed the world what side we are on. We are allies. We are safe spaces.
Me. Me. Me.
This is called “performative” because we are doing the bare minimum, often in the most public way, to demonstrate that we are not the bad guys here. I may be genuinely outraged. I may deeply wish an end to marginalization. But nothing’s going to change when I just center the conversation back to myself and my feelings and my righteousness. I’m literally tooting my own horn so everyone will see I’m on the right side of history, and that’s the only reward that comes from performative allyship. No one is helped much. Nothing much changes. I feel good that I said the thing, I bought the tee shirt, and now I’m going to get back to taking cool pictures of my brunch.
Spiritual discipline is more difficult, and it won’t give you immediate gratification, but if we want to be the allies we say we want to be, it’s going to require effort.
Step One: Know Thyself. If ever Romans 3:10 could speak to us, it’s hard to think that even I’m included in the statement, “There is no one righteous, not even one.” Are you quick to post online but slow to speak up in person? Is your online tone consistent with how you talk to others in real life? How much of that comment is based on making things right in the real world, and how much of it is based on excusing yourself from any further responsibility?
Step Two: Never Stop Learning. It’s the Information Age! And you know how to read! It’s hard to recognize disparity and privilege if we’re not listening…really listening, to people who have a different experience of the world we live in.
Step Three: Work. Are you practicing what you preach, walking the talk, putting your money where your mouth is? I mean that literally. Are you building relationships in the real world, participating in real world advocacy, giving financially to institutions that benefit the marginalized?
Let’s not be just another horror movie trope, friends. Let’s flip the script. We’re nobody’s savior. We’re not the center of the story. But we can do our part in secret, not for “likes,” not to feel right, but because someone else could use a real hand.