OPINION | Dear Progressive White Women: An Updated Love Letter

Dear progressive white women:

I never forgot how exquisite Michelle Obama is, and I revel in seeing her now, so free and unapologetic. Her recent speech at the DNC — delivered with those beatific braids (yes, they are “hers” because she paid for that hair!), having very few effs to give and some receipts to claim, thrillingly no longer tethered to the constraints of first ladyhood and respectability politics — hit many white women progressives I know like a thunderbolt. It took one overnight sleep for my inbox and DMs to be filled with messages from white women acquaintances, many of whom I hadn’t heard from in months and months exhorting about how amazing Michelle is and how proud they are of her and how exciting this moment is, and how it made them think of me.

I have literally zero contention over their enthusiasm about both the former first lady, and the hope of a Madam President Harris. But it is interesting to me indeed how often some of my white women acquaintances conflate any great thing by any Black women in any context with a catalyst to check in on me.

You could have checked in when I needed you. As your “Black friend,” I have suffered through many hard things over the past year, from the disappointment of the SCOTUS ruling obliterating Affirmative Action to the rollback on “DEI” across all areas of society — which has cost many of us our peace, purpose, and indeed employ — to the never-ending grief of Black bodies being treated as disposable, dispensable, non-human things and the constant noise pollution of so many MAGA folks feeling free to say ALL the quiet parts out loud.

You could have checked in for just regular reasons, not just when you are existentially elated “Oh my God! Why doesn’t Michelle run for president?” (Seriously, have you ever listened to the woman discuss her loathing of politics?) or when you are shattered (all the calls and emails after George Floyd’s death, “just wanting to see how you are doing, Rozie?” How do you think any of us are doing? That was such an invasive form of misery-rubbernecking laid upon us in our own time of grief and despair!).

Now look, I should have probably checked in on you too, like when Roe was repealed. (But you could have checked in with me then as well, because I’m also a woman.) In any case, I was occupied with checking in on the youth I know who are actually more affected by the lack of access to reproductive health. We post-baby-making-age women have to be in the fight, but they have to be in their survival. But at any rate, I imagine this is the first time you’ve been able to reach out to anyone; it’s summer and you’ve been busy traveling.

What, you might ask, do summer tourism and Michelle Obama-inspired check-ins have to do with each other? Let’s consider the notion of “cultural tourism,” born out of the 18th–19th century ideal of the grand tour. During this time, this elitist’s extended holiday symbolized one’s erudition, privilege, and readiness to step into the Victorian colonialist power elite. A young man (for the most part) of “good standing” would be equipped to travel to the outskirts of Europe, generally the southern countries — “backwards” places like Italy, Greece, and Spain — and take in the exoticism and adventure of these “picturesque” cultures.

This consumption of “the other” has remained the backbone of the travel industry, junior-year abroad programs, and even good deeds-logging such as “eco-tourism.” Lest we forget: There are plenty of animals and humans to be saved and cared for just a ZIP code or two away. Further, many local neighborhood bars make decent mojitos or even caipirinhas.

The advent of budget travel, no-frills airlines, low-strings package deals, and social media must-sees, has extended the travel bug into something of a rite of passage for 21st century seekers as well. Pack in as much as you can — in as little time and for as little money as possible — rack up all of that “culture” for your hope chest of social erudition, intercultural awareness, and being “interesting.” With the over-reach of accessibility and an under-awareness of respect and shared humanity, the travel industry is widely seen as a “deal with it” annoyance for the locals: Here come the boorish Ugly Americans (and Brits, and Aussies, and …), flooding the streets and towns of the European “best-of” list as well as, increasingly, many hot-spot venues in Asia and South America.

While the people deplore the garbage on their streets, the atrocious behavior, and the jacked-up housing prices because everyone wants to Airbnb their place, they’re in a bind, because tourism provides a sizeable portion of their GPA (90 million international tourists to Spain in 2024, over $10B in economic uptick for Thailand) as well as job creation. Yet frustration is cresting, with anti-tourist protests in Barcelona and high tariffs on tourist vehicles and tourism sites in places like Bali and beyond.

What, you ask, connects these two issues? In my opinion, it’s this sense that there is an “other” — whom you are not — and that by claiming proximity to, or affinity with, that other, you are seeking to burnish your reputation as a holistic human, increase your brand as a compassionate person, and demonstrate to the world how well-versed you are. Having played the role of “the very good Black friend” for years, I have a request to deliver when it comes to using anyone’s proximate identity or “shine” as a way of establishing your own benefit, dear white progressive acquaintances. Just. Don’t.

Back, now, to Michelle. A lot of people wrote me, ecstatic over the eye rolls and lip puckers. Hot take for the white women who find her facial expressions and side eyes so refreshing, we all (most) do that. It’s called being a Black woman, unapologetically. You may not personally witness these non-verbal forms of communication because we aren’t bringing it to work anymore; lesson learned. As a dear friend, a very successful entrepreneur, thought leader, and social impact expert recently wrote me, she no longer encourages Black and Brown people to “bring their full selves” to the workplace, because if your “self” doesn’t conform with deeply entrenched monocultural white standards of expression, expect to be punished. I certainly have experienced this myself.

That’s why I was so thrilled to see Free Michelle in all her unapologetic glory. She was ruling the space because she now can — and in being her authentic and justifiably pissed-off self, she was symbolizing to the rest of us (who usually cannot) that she “sees us.” And she was lifting up our selves, even if we have to keep them hidden. For a few moments, over the screen, we were As One.

And so, I found the rapid reach-out to me a bit annoying. There was no time for Black women to virtually snap our fingers at each other before the monoculture came calling, reminding us how amazing Michelle is (like we don’t know), how admirable, how much you wish you could be like her. This gesture may have wanted to be celebratory, but depending on how long it was since I last heard from you, it was off-putting, extractive.

To be a better DMs drop-in person, consider where we actually stand in the relationship. If we barely know each other, find MY social media post about how awesome Michelle was and “like” it. I’ll see you seeing me. Whatever you do, don’t go writing me saying you loved the speech “as an ally.” Allyship is something you cannot claim; it must be conferred upon you. Saying “I am an ally” is as hollow and craven as saying “you are my bestie” when we only just met. (Who told you that you were an ally? Did you ask the people what they actually think about you and your so-called good deeds? I think you can just be a good person without the flowers and the crown and the klieg lights.)

I have a theory about the five levels of interracial woman relationships. After “ally,” which is too often a false construct, I see “advocate” as a possible naming for our bond. This is a little more realistic; it means you are starting to give up some positional power for the benefit of others — me. This level of relationship starts to build trust and mutuality and moves you away from extracting my (Michelle’s, Oprah’s, Simone Biles’) “Black girl magic” for your own inspiration, entertainment, or street cred.

I really believe that “co-conspirator” is a fine place to land and rest and reside. This implies that we are working together toward a shared goal (such as getting Madam Harris elected!). We get along and enjoy each other enough to align around shared purpose, but there is no expectation from you that I will linger on in your life to be the “colorful friend” at the party or the proof that you are an anti-racist. And here’s the thing: If it’s OK for you to write me because you saw a Black woman somewhere doing something, anything, that inspired you, it’s also OK for me to write you when I see a white woman who has curly red hair like yours (or whatever) and you won’t find it random!

Friends go through things together, and this is entirely predicated on experience, resilience, and sometimes uncomfortable fumbling and honesty. Friendship is a precious, two-way relationship, and it’s different from “acquaintance.” Hold this truth.

Sisterhood (the real one) is a rarefied existence; true sisters are the ones who will sit with you through labor, let you ugly cry over a job loss or a breakup, hold your hand and help you sort your logistics after a divorce or — and they are the ones known to your other people — who your family will call upon to deliver the world’s most heartfelt and knowing eulogy at your funeral.

So here’s my advice over the coming weeks, as our collective thrall and delight over Black women crescendos: Remember, we are not your commodity. Michelle is not your “girl.” I am not your Venice. Kamala Harris is not your mom. But maybe if we can find ways to work together and equally bring our mutual gifts to the table, we can start moving some societal, political, and community dials in ways that will truly be progressive for us all.

The South Seattle Emerald is committed to holding space for a variety of viewpoints within our community, with the understanding that differing perspectives do not negate mutual respect amongst community members.

The opinions, beliefs, and viewpoints expressed by the contributors on this website do not necessarily reflect the opinions, beliefs, and viewpoints of the Emerald or official policies of the Emerald.

Rozella Kennedy is the author of the award-winning book Our Brave Foremothers: Celebrating 100 Black, Brown, Asian, and Indigenous Women Who Changed the Course of History, and the founder of Brave Sis Project. Brave Sis has recently launched a self-paced course called “Allies, Advocates, Co-Conspirators, Friends, Sisters: A Playbook for Leading, Learning, and Liberation,” available on the Teachable platform.