FINDING WHITE ALLIES
by Catie Chi Olson
delivered at the 1st Unitarian Church of Oakland
during APIC Anual Meeting
February 20, 2005

Thank you, it is a delight to be here. In my academic journey, I have learned and laughed with Rob and Janne Eller-Isaacs, who remember this place well. And I am so honored to be here with you this morning to talk about how Asian Americans plan to go forward in our quest for white allies. I was raised as a cultural Norwegian in the flown-over land of Minnesota, so naming a race 'white' feels a bit of a betrayal to the love I always saw in my grandmother's blue eyes, the rambunctious, freckled laughter of my red-haired Viking cousins and the tender heart I have for my husband and our beautiful fair children.

I know, as you know, there is very rarely a white human. These designations of color, these reductions into black-red-white-yellow-brown, it pigeonholes us into cramped boxes. And we need to name and honor the word "ALLY". It is a word used from conflict and, with the political mendacity of our current war, it can be hard to embrace any term that finds its meaning in battles. Still, an ally is one who will stand with you when the enemy comes, when you need to fight for your job, for your dignity, sometimes for your life. No group can move from marginalized to mainstream without having conflict and, thus cannot have too many allies.

For me, knowing the story of Vincent Chin brings home the danger of life without allies. In June of 1982, Vincent Chin's bachelor party so offended two autoworkers that they traded insults with him at the club, followed him to a gas station and beat him into a coma with a baseball bat. He died four days later, the day before his wedding. His last words were, "It's not fair" and he was more right than he knew. The autoworkers Ronald Ebens and his stepson Michael Nitz hated the influx of Japanese cars and the effect those Japanese cars had on Detroit's auto industry. But Vincent was Chinese. His murderers were only given probation and even the trial for violation of Vincent's civil rights, provoked by the outrage of such as inadequate sentence, could not find convict these two. Anyone offended by this story can be an ally.

Later that same year, I had my own epiphany about race. The New York Times published the numbers of those who had been killed in the apartheid struggle, listed by race. The smallest category was "Eurasian", but it WAS a category. People who looked like me were killed in that struggle. This peek into South Africa's struggle made me wonder about our country's history with people like me. I discovered my birth was four years before my dad should have been allowed to immigrate here, except that he came as a student sponsored by three GIs. I was also born six years before the Supreme Court ruled that anti-miscegenation laws were unconstitutional. Being unconstitutional did not mean that all our states leapt forward and repealed those laws, those mean, petty, fearful laws that prohibit love between races. Thanks to Alabama, only one of my four children was born in a United States where racial color is not considered in marriage. Anyone disturbed by these facts can be an ally.
What I think we are asking of our allies is first introspection; a recognition that there has been privilege accorded to anyone who can squeeze into the white box. In Joseph Barndt's hopeful book "Dismantling Racism", he asked test groups - people of every shade - to share what they liked about their own particular shade:

For people of color, the answers almost always relate to cultural characteristics and strengths that have evolved from their struggle to survive in an unjust world. For white people, the answers almost always relate to benefits derived from privilege and power.

My sense of humor is hat I like about my biracial experience and I have a story for you. Once, playing at a park with my children, a woman sat next to me, saying "Wow, you really seem to love your children!" Yes. Uh-huh. She looked at me like she had found a treasure. "How much does you family pay you?" Oh, that was it. She thought she had found a very devoted nanny and was trying to hire me away from my own children! When I told her I was their mother and not the hired help. I could tell she was embarrassed, but I did nothing. I missed an opportunity. We could have wondered at the glory of genetics together, the gorgeous rainbow of humanity that we are all part of. Then, she might have become an ally in my neighborhood; she might have become a friend. Anyone who has ever felt uncomfortable about these small, significant issues of race can become an ally.

From where I write, I see a fence still festooned with Christmas lights and though I have left behind those tenets, I still draw comfort from the glow of those colors strung together in the night. It used to be if one of the lights burned out, then the whole chain would not shine. That is how I like to think of our denomination, as a community of light shining in dark times. Each of us are needed or the effect will be so much less. And it is not the separate colors that matter, but glowing.

Bio: Catie Chi Olson and her partner Mike are raising Emma (13), Jacob (10), Samuel (7) and Phoebe (3) as she attends United Theological Seminary. She is currently an Aspirant to UU Ministry.