Oww, Ouch!: How to Apologize

So, you caused harm. Pulled your weapons of whiteness and inflicted pain and suffering on someone with less privilege than you. Maybe you were called in. Maybe you were called out. Maybe you shut down. Maybe you lashed out. Maybe you sat with it or maybe you stormed away and pulled out more weapons to defend yourself against the truth. Before you have any hopes of moving on or making amends you first need to admit to yourself the problem. Are you assuming your experience is universal? Do you think your opinion is more valuable than the person/people you hurt/offended? Have you denied someone else’s experience as real and valid? Do you feel entitled to the thoughts, experiences, education, labor, empathy, time and counsel of women of color?

The answer is yes! You have been conditioned this way. White supremacist culture dictates that you (and I!) have internalize these very messages. Therefore, this is exactly what you need to unlearn and resist everyday in order to mitigate the danger you cause to black women (and other folx with marginalized identities).

Be honest with yourself about the heart of the disagreement or else there will never be a path to legitimate healing and restoration. If the black (or brown, indigenous, disabled, queer/trans/non-binary/gender non-conforming) woman in question is on a path of transformative justice and equity (and a lot of us are) then your challenge is that much greater.

So you caused harm, now what? You could just say sorry and keep it moving. Hope the other party will get over it. But that is probably doomed to fail. Why?

Because saying sorry does not show that you understand what the issue was or that you have committed to making changes to your behavior to ensure the offense or harm doesn’t happen again.  If your apology sounds like, “I’m sorry IF I OFFENDED YOU.” I hear, “I’m tired of talking about this and don’t get why you’re mad, but maybe this will end it.” or “ I don’t want you to be mad at me so let’s make up.” Neither of those get to the heart of the pain you have inflicted with your words or actions.

Skip all ifs and buts in your apology and stick to just the facts. What did you do that caused pain? Do you understand why in hindsight it was wrong? If so, say so but do not explain your intentions. As Appel Rossell so brilliantly laid out in her essay for The Establishment, When Will People Of Color Start Raising The Goddamn Bar For White People?, “White people, you see, have this thing called good intentions. And we’re told these intentions — which only white people have, while people of color just have suspicious behavior and sassiness—trump impact, everyday.”

Good intentions are not more important than perpetuating white supremacy and inflicting racial trauma (or ableism or transphobia or Xenophobia or anti-semitism, etc.) on people that are fatigued to the marrow of our bones from fighting for access to our full, unyielding, resplendent humanity.

Do better.

See also the handy infographic: 5 Easy Steps to A Sincere Apology originally created for Resist Oppression.


KILLING GEORGINA is creating poetry and prose to heal and achieve metaphysical liberation.

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KILLING GEORGINA IS CREATING POETRY AND PROSE TO HEAL AND ACHIEVE METAPHYSICAL LIBERATION.

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KILLING GEORGINA IS CREATING POETRY AND PROSE TO HEAL AND ACHIEVE METAPHYSICAL LIBERATION.

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Gratitude is good, gratuity is betterIf you appreciate the content, the emotional labor, the value added by holding space for and amplifying the lives and experiences of women and femmes of color, hit me up here.


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Self Care: Sing Until the Burning Stops

Originally posted on Patreon.com/KillingGeorgina on August 14, 2017


photo via Playstation.com

Not much personal writing has been happening on my end. Scheduling, agendas, emails, notes, to do lists, social media blurbs; that’s about all I have been able to tap out these days. I’m organizing a sister march to the March 4 Racial Justice in DC on 09/30/17 to happen here in the capital city of little Rhody. This requires amounts of socializing that are draining me to my limits. In a way, I think organizing suits me. I can put my all into planning and executing in a deeply focused strategic way as long as there is a clear end goal in sight. Small signposts of tasks completed that may help to push the larger goal of liberation from white supremacy. This march is one of the sign posts. I’m pushing through and we are going to make it happen in solidarity in RI and DC and NY and NJ and OK and wherever else…not sure of all the sister city/states participating yet. This morning, I felt like putting down some thoughts, all stream-of-consciousness-like.

My house is a mess and my kids are watching WAY TOO MUCH TV! But it’s summertime so *shrugs in melanin*. I do make sure Big is reading and Little is STILL potty training. But housework is down to the bare necessities as the moment, which means living amongst clutter and more dust than is probably healthy. Summer is hard already since we have to recreate a routine for our days that don’t revolve around school drop off and pick up. Mommy gets to switch hats and play cruise director for two instead of chauffeur and household manager. Interwoven between my meeting needs and endless conference calls, I am bringing the kids to parks and playgrounds and splash pads and pools and other fun summer stuff. Needless to say, both Big and Little are a little out of sorts from being dragged around to meetings or dropped off at my parents’ so I can go alone. They seem less bothered by staying home with daddy for nighttime meetings, except for the one time that Little stood at the door and cried. For the most part, their bedtime route is maintained on those nights and they only miss mommy a bit. Daddy/Hubby has been amazing and supportive and loving.

I am tapped out and in need of self care that I can’t afford. So instead I have decided my refuge will be to sing on the top of my lungs as long and as often as I possibly can to clear my throat chakras (whatever those are). I even got the husband to drag out the old Wii American Idol Karaoke game so I can sing my heart out to “canned” applause and “I’m feelin’ you dawg” responses from animatronic Randy. Singing helps to shake free all the hurt and anger and fear and sadness that sits in the back of my throat burning like a fireball. Plus, singing is $FREE.99 and I don’t need to make an appointment or carve out time to do it. I just try to restrain myself in more public places than the inside of my moving car. Maybe I’ll even sing today while I do some much needed vacuuming and dusting around my house between answering emails and instant messages, posting updates and calls to action on FB and Twitter for M4RJ, M4RJRI, RO, KG (and my own page and other groups I admin), meals and other necessities for the kids and hubby, plan and organize and delegate and outreach and learn and grow and drink enough water.

photo via playstation.com

I’m vacillating between Joe Crocker’s version of With a Little Help From My Friends and Adele power ballads playing in my head…”lending me your ear. I’ll try not to sing out of key.” I can be “a little pitchy dawg”…again, more *shrugs in melanin*. But I digress.

Fuck Nazis. Fuck white supremacists. Fuck apathy. Fuck complacency. If the devil is going to take me out, I will not be easily erased. I will go out fighting and singing on the top of my lungs. Both resistance and self care all wrapped up into one solitary action. I’ve been known to make anything into a song with my children. This may end up being my new hook since it keeps running through my head:

“It is our duty to fight for our freedom.

It is our duty to win.

We must love each other and support each other.

We have nothing to lose but our chains.” — Assata Shakur


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Gratitude is good, gratuity is better. If you appreciate the content, the emotional labor, the value added by holding space for and amplifying the lives and experiences of women and femmes of color, hit me up here.

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Anti-blackness Is

Anti-blackness Is


Anti-blackness is

insidious

and ubiquitous

and fatal.

Anti-blackness is a murderer

a liar

a seductress

a poison

a genocide.


Find my Patreon page here at https://www.patreon.com/killinggeorgina.


Gratitude is good, gratuity is better. If you appreciate the content, the emotional labor, the value added by holding space for and amplifying the lives and experiences of women and femmes of color, hit me up here.

Follow me on Facebook, where I am escaping the sunken place and amplifying my teachers here.