I have been thinking a lot about vulnerability and how it shows up. I have been thinking about how I can allow my own vulnerability to be a guide into deeper connection with others. I am also curious about the ways in which vulnerability can reveal the nuances of power, privilege, and oppression within interpersonal dynamics. There was a specific conversation that occurred a few weeks ago that had me feeling particularly vulnerable and has given me great pause to reflect on the intersection of vulnerability and systemic racism.

I remember that the room was very full on that day at Common Art,  and many folks, dragging their over-sized bags, came into the space just to catch a nap in a corner of the room. I was wandering around the space and making small talk with participants about their artwork. I approached one table where a man and a woman were both seated and working on paintings. I noticed the painting of the gentleman and made some remark about how much I liked it, to which he turned to look me in the eyes and grumbled aggressively,  “Don’t talk to me like I am a child!” and gave me a stone cold stare. This response to my comment definitely threw me off for a moment, and I got a clear message to walk away. I felt a little frightened and noticed a feeling of shame flush over me. I decided against the impulse to leave as quickly as possible and instead decided to engage with him despite my own feelings of vulnerability.

Fumbling for the right words, I responded quickly to him with, “So sorry, sir, it must be my southern accent that had ya feel that way!” I gave him a huge grin and he, without looking up at me proceeded to fire questions my way about who I spent my time with in the South.  He wanted to know if I came from wealth and also if I hung out with the “rednecks down there”. He was clearly trying to measure me up and find out what our differences were. Repling honestly to his questions, I offered that I did not grow up with money,that in fact my family was very poor when I was growing up.   I shared that we were on welfare. I also assured him that I didn’t spend much time with rednecks. As I confidently answered his questions and remained standing next to him, not allowing his prickly nature to scare me off, he began to soften toward me. He began to share about a cousin that he had down in Atlanta, and we proceeded to converse about the city there. I felt that we were together in our vulnerability.

A key detail here is that the gentleman that I was talking to was black, and I am white. I feel strongly that race dynamics were at play in our conversation. When I walked away from that conversation, I speculated about whether he has felt belittled by white women a lot throughout his life. I also have been reflecting on my own internalized biases that were at play during my conversation with him. Systemic racism is a reality in this country, what Michelle Alexander describes as the new “American caste system” in her book The New Jim Crow (which was my most influential read of 2013). What do we, as individuals striving to be conscious and anti-racist do in multiracial/multicultural spaces to create an atmosphere of inclusion? Well, for one, I think that we stay with our own vulnerability even in spite of our own pull to leave.

— Liana Johannaber, March 22, 2015