I’ll share another story with you. It’s embarrassing, so please be kind. In July of 2014, I was on a road trip, and I got inspired to write a book about places to find healthy food on the road. Somewhere in rural Illinois, I saw a billboard for an incredible farmer’s market. I didn’t want to use my phone to type, so I used the voice dictation function on the phone so I could minimize my distraction.

At that exact moment, I happened to drive by a cop, and I got pulled over for using my phone while driving. He took forever while he was writing up the ticket, and I was so annoyed that I passive-aggressively got out of my car and started walking around and stretching. Nothing happened; there was no reaction from the cop.

Just wait, it gets worse.

He came back over with the ticket, and I said, “I’ve just got to tell you how ironic it is that you’ve given me a ticket. I was driving through your beautiful countryside, and I got inspired to write a book about how to find healthy food on the road. I didn’t want to type into my phone, so I was just using the voice dictation function so I could remember that one market.”

His response: “Are you a writer?”

“No, I’m a doctor.”

“Wait- you’re a doctor? Why didn’t you tell me that? I NEVER give tickets to doctors, or nurses, or anyone in healthcare! I don’t want to be in the emergency room one day and look up to find a doctor or nurse that I’ve given a ticket to! From now on, if you ever get pulled over again, just tell them you are a doctor.

I am not exaggerating or embellishing anything in this story. I felt some guilt about the prospect of using the status of my medical degree to get out of tickets, but that’s where it ended.

It was right around this time that the press was giving more coverage to fatal shootings of Black people such as Eric Garner and Michael Brown by police officers. I was so horrified and saddened by these events that I even traveled to Washington, DC that December for a rally in support of Black lives. That’s how much it had affected me.

But I never once compared my experience with that highway patrol officer with the experience of countless Black people who have been killed for doing much less.

Until I started to learn in earnest about white privilege and racism after the 2016 election, I didn’t really even know what ‘white privilege’ meant. When a friend called me out for writing a blog post that rang of white privilege in 2016, I have to admit: I immediately became defensive. I felt like she was calling me a racist!

Fortunately, I didn’t get stuck in an unproductive, defensive state for too long.

Meditation and mindfulness have taught me that when I become defensive, it means there’s something deeper that I need to address, process, and learn. The guilt, anger and frustration I felt when I heard ‘white privilege’ were the exact things I needed to address.

I experienced discomfort and questioned my core beliefs as I became more conscious of the world around me. Throughout the process, the mindfulness and meditation tools I’ve practiced since 2011 helped  to disarm my defensiveness so I can remain open to learning and change. This work is challenging, but we are living in challenging times.

And what good is being a meditator if I can’t do my part to make the world a more just place?

So now going back to the dinner party with the priest and the N-word (from my last 2 blog posts). In that moment, I could recognize my discomfort when I heard him say that word, and then I was able to use that discomfort as my cue to speak up. I fumbled, and I stammered, but ultimately it comes down to this: I couldn’t afford not to speak up.

As a white person, it is my absolute responsibility to speak up against racism when I witness it. Even when it’s uncomfortable. Especially when it’s uncomfortable.

What are some ways that privilege does (or does not) play out in your life? If you’re a person of color, you probably don’t have to think past yesterday. But if you’re not, take a few moments to think about situations where you were treated differently, just because of your skin color. Like I was, with the cop who didn’t even flinch when I got out of my car and started walking around on the side of the highway. I’d love to hear from you- either comment on this post or send me an email. We’re on this journey together, and please know that everything you’ve felt, others (including myself) have felt too.