The Risk of Vulnerability
Nervous, uneasy, and insecure, I took a risk. With absolutely no idea how things would turn out, I asked my fellow church member a question I’d hoped would lead to a conversation about race. It was an awkward subject matter given the fact that she was a white woman in her late 20s and I a black woman inching closer to my 40s by the second. But I wanted to know her perspective, and if I’m honest, I wanted to know if it was possible for a black and white woman to have an honest conversation about race.
Without a smooth transition, I blurted out, “Did you hear about the movie Black Panther?”
“No,” she responded.
I knew no was a possibility though I had been anticipating a yes. The movie was the first of its kind with an almost all black cast, and because representation matters, I, along with many other people of color, had been celebrating the historic movie weeks prior to its release date. I wondered whether this excitement resonated with the white community, specifically those I knew.
I did my best to describe the movie to her, and when we parted ways, I didn’t think about our conversation until a week later when I received an unexpected text message.
“Just saw Black Panther!” it read. I was surprised, shocked even. I hadn’t anticipated that my question would result in a symbolic gesture of sorts, one that communicated the message: I want to know you.
She had leaned into my world a bit, and though it was a small act, it felt much like the first dab of healing balm placed on a wound.
