On my daily run and many walks with Violet (our old pooch-14 and going strong!) through my neighborhood in North Beacon Hill, I’ve begun to notice an unsettling in my spirit about the practice of social distancing. NBH is multicultural mashup of Asian, white, Hispanic, Black, Native American (population breakdown in that order), young, old, white-collar, blue-collar, housed, homeless, gay, and straight all living side-by-side.
I have begun to wonder how it feels to my Asian, Hispanic, Black, Native American (and other ethnicities), as well as the homeless and unhoused population to watch me, a white woman distance herself from them. I try to catch their face, smile, and say hello as we pass one another. (Though not everyone will look me in the face.) I wonder what happens in their minds and bodies; what conditioning, fears, or experiences get triggered as I step off the sidewalk and onto the street to avoid getting too close.
My hope is that whoever I’m creating space for knows that my wide berth is due to COVID-19 and not because of prejudice, bias, cruelty, or stupidity. I wanted to post about this because if this is troubling me, I expect it’s troubling others. And, if in all my white-privilege, I am feeling this unease, I expect the diverse neighbors I live, walk, and shop among may be experiencing a counter-reaction. Especially those who have traditionally and currently experience racism, exclusion, and degradation by whites and oppressive systems and structures.
In the wisdom and need for social distancing in this cultural moment, I wonder what unintended psychological and physiological feelings get triggered as people see me purposely move away from them. In an effort to embody love, care, and kindness, I can’t help but feel like I’m doing the opposite as I create the necessary six-foot space between us.