Do I Want to Be A Good White Man, Or An Organizer of White Men?

That was my frame my whole life before WMRJ. I was certain, in fact, that I was a good white man and thus had no work to do. Did I have work to do to meet the true definition of “good”? Absolutely.

But until WMRJ found me, I hadn’t examined my whiteness, or examined my “M” or my wealth because I assumed all those things were just a given. WMRJ asked me to redirect my gaze.

Away from those spaces where I showed up thinking I was one of the “good” ones, and start the work of owning my shit. And what I found was a lot of other white men were in the same boat. Organizing white men means, to me, finding white men who want a better world for them and theirs, know that it’s not happening, but don’t have any sense what to do about it.

Organizing white men isn’t about talking about it, it isn’t about intellectualizing our way out of my own way. It’s about coming together collectively in a brave space that allows me the opportunity to learn and grow in community, not relying on BIPOC to tell me I’m doing good or how to be better or essentially to shoulder the emotional burden of my baggage.

Organizing white men means unpacking those bags together and finding strength in what we find together and collectively to use that strength to impact our families, our community and our world, differently. It means, to me, to stop thinking I’m a good white man, and expecting others to tell me so when I show up in multi-gendered, multi-racial spaces. And instead to go get my people, other white men, and begin the slow, hard process of doing the best we can until we know better and then doing better.

But it means hard work in white male spaces as a prerequisite so that the collective power that shows up is showing up in heart strength and not ego driven asking for our cookies since we’ve been good white men.

Finding beauty amidst the chaos

Beauty is as beauty does. I have to do beauty to feel beautiful. It is harder than I want it to be, but always more rewarding than I anticipate.

Organizing myself

Community organizing? Sure, but organization begins at home. I need to organize myself.

Who am I. Really?

I don’t know, is the answer. At least not on my Dad’s side. I guess more importantly, I constantly define myself as “x” or “y” or “abc” using titles, honorifics or categories that separate and distinguish me from others. Sure, on my genetic heritage I can find an Irish boy, through and through. O.k., that’s also a categorization - Irish. And boy. I am an open-hearted, easily frustrated, often pompous older gentleman, who can be quick to anger and quick to love. I stand before the world with my feelings on my sleeve and struggle to filter my true feelings or control my face when wanting to conceal emotions. I am generous to a fault and often find in others the defaults I have in myself. Like over generosity when it comes to my sister being generous in Antigua. I fume quickly when young kids sit on their phones while pausing between sets, looking down and remaining oblivious to the other gym goers wishing to work in for a set. I am a volunteer who wants to help, but forgets sometimes how to set boundaries and not over extend myself thereby making myself useless to the cause and to myself and family. I am a lover who finds joy in lifelong commitment to the same man, joy in his dances, his songs, his smile and his beautiful soul. I am a son that often feels like a failure and not the “perfect” son, no matter the feedback from others, no matter the facts that show the falseness of this lens. I am a musician who was given the joy of music, but not the talent of unleashed musical ability. I perform in a manner that is more like the dude mouthing “1 and 2” while dancing in public with a partner looking at them with pity. I am a lover of dogs and cats and especially birds. I genuinely feel these animals sense my being and spirit and respond to me differently than they do to the average joe. Which is so cool, and so heart warming. I am a constant learner with an ever renewable intellectual curiosity. I hate to be “left behind” so try desperately to keep up with technology and the latest whatever it is. I am healthy, wealthy and sometimes wise, but primarily healthy. My wealth understanding has come late in life — understanding it’s a state of mind, not a number in a checkbook. I am a believer in social justice and have spent different parts of my life dedicated to its advancement, while spending probably more of my life dedicated to making money and advancing my own cause. I am a spiritual man that finds comfort in religious ceremonies and feels connected to traditions in ways that don’t necessarily make sense other than it just feels good to be a participant in something that’s timeless in many ways. I am a student of history and on my good days I see the cycles of history and understand that’s all they are — cycles, not permanent hills or valleys. While I don’t understand why that has to be, given that the hills sure would seem to be the better outcome, I’m assuming it’s because one man’s hill is another man’s valley. And if we are truly creatures of free choice, then it will always be so. Great. I am well read but do not retain nearly what I once did, if I ever did.