Letting Go of the White Hero

    

   We grow up in a country that fuels dreams in many ways. We are told; you are unique, special, gifted, made for big things. We grow up desiring to conquer the world, whether in our job, our success, serving some how, making a dent in our realm of existence. I think we deeply fear futility. That somehow everything we work for is in vain, meaningless. Maybe that’s why so many of us go through a mid-life crisis. Maybe it’s why we try to be a hero, to those who feel smaller then us.

    Coming overseas, I subconsciously believed that I was going to come and save people, and had ideas of heroism. Being needed, being useful, saving people. We eat this up. I ate it up. Until I realized over time that being a white hero has done far more damage than good. My husband’s people don’t need a white hero to enforce the idea that they can’t help themselves. They don’t need a white girl to make them feel more useless because she is so educated and “efficient”. They want hope for themselves. They need me to join them as a team, not as a hero believing I can save poor people. Saying these things out loud sound ridiculous, but think about how often we do it. How often we broadcast it on our Facebook’s, with pictures with the way we talk about the marginalized. We want to hand them out a track, or do a day of giving canned food, or take a week trip to do a job they could’ve done themselves. We are less inclined to spend unglamorized time, to give them resources we had so they don’t need to mooch off our cans. To look them in the eye as a respected member of society. A child of the king. That is much harder, and way less glamorous. I had to learn these things the hard way. But I’m so thankful now.

   

     I have learned the best place for me here always…is behind the scenes. My husband should lead a lot of times not because he is a man…but he is Khmu. TW and KO should be the cooperative leaders because they are Khmu. I can do my part, I have been given much so I pass it along and equip them to use it.

  

    In light of many recent events, white privilege has been a hot topic. We still have a long way to go, and more fight to fight. But do be encouraged America, I see your black, Hispanic, Asian, Jewish, middle eastern populations not believing the lie and speaking out. I see white Americans who are humbling themselves. In light of the hard and discouraging events and people, remember that.

   Where I live, people are deemed beautiful or ugly according to their whiteness. My husband isn’t considered handsome by his own people because his skin is dark. If a foreign kid is here they will immediately and unabashedly be treated better then the local kids. This feeling that white is better, it isn’t hidden. It isn’t buried in their subconscious. It is spoken out loud every day. They are valuable/beautiful because they are white. Colonialism, and white privilege has influenced this place so heavily, they believe the lie as reality. It’s a great tragedy. I always pray that my future children will be dark skinned, and hope they can help lead their people out of this thinking. I fight this thinking always, it’s really exhausting for my heart sometimes. The best thing I can do to encourage them that the kingdom is beautifully diverse and we are not worth more or less due to our skin or background, is let go of being a hero.

  

    We have recently had issues with my in-laws because I won’t be their great white hero. I won’t be their golden calf. I want them to see that I am like them, working struggling, not made of money or all the answers. But a daughter who is fighting for them, to fight for themselves. It is not an easy fight.

     We have to let go of this idea of Great White Hope, the hero. We need to learn to walk with others who are broken, and not look down on them from our pedestal. We do not need to be afraid of futility, of not making a dent in humanity. I have learned… the most eternal things are usually not seen in our lifetime, and look like sacrifice, humility, and great love with suffering. Do we have the bravery to fight, to suffer, to love joyfully not knowing the end result? In being behind the scenes? We can if we fix our eyes above, hand in hand with the broken. Because we are the broken too. Not the hero.

This post has been influenced by my reality here, the recent events in America, and this video sent by a friend. Check it out. It deals with the question of futility. And really gives me hope in our labor.

Devoted Women