Dear White Woman

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Confluence Daily is your daily news source for women in the know.

By:  Lisa M. Hayes

Confluence Daily is your daily news source for women in the know.

 

Dear White Women, I See You

I see you. I see us. I see me, and I don’t always love what I see when I look in the mirror at myself or at us as a collective.

I see the ache in your chest as the headlines roll in, as the pundits dissect the numbers and lay blame at our feet. Again. I see the defensiveness bubbling under the surface, the quick reflex to say, “Not all of us.”

But here’s the thing: This isn’t about blame. It’s about responsibility. And there’s a difference.

Blame points fingers and shuts down. Responsibility opens palms and leans in. Responsibility asks us to sit with the truth, no matter how uncomfortable it may be, and to carry the weight of it—not as a punishment, but as an opportunity to grow.

I See Us

We are the daughters of a system that was built for us. Not in the sense of care or compassion, but in the sense of power. A system that whispers, “You don’t have to try too hard. You don’t have to see too much. You can stay safe as long as you don’t make waves.”

And for generations, too many of us listened. We learned to be polite instead of honest, quiet instead of bold. We internalized the idea that our survival, our comfort, our proximity to power mattered more than what happened to others.

When the results rolled in, the numbers showed who held up the scaffolding for that second Trump term, and we can’t pretend it wasn’t us. Not all of us, no. But enough of us. Enough to tip the scales toward hate, toward regression, toward harm.

And so here we are, faced with a choice. To defend or to transform. To stay silent or to step up.

The Courage to See Ourselves Clearly

Transformation begins with truth. And the truth is, we’ve fallen short. Not just at the ballot box, but in the quiet, everyday moments where complicity thrives:

• In the silence when a relative makes a racist comment at dinner.
• In the way we prioritize our discomfort over someone else’s pain.
• In the spaces where we choose safety over solidarity.

To see this clearly is not to condemn ourselves, but to invite ourselves into deeper accountability. We are not beyond redemption. But redemption starts with reckoning.

What Comes Next

So, what do we do now? How do we move forward? Not in performative gestures or fleeting guilt, but in ways that create real, lasting change?

Sit with the Discomfort

Change doesn’t happen in comfort. When we’re faced with the reality of our complicity—whether it’s at the ballot box or in everyday conversations—it’s tempting to look away. Discomfort is a natural reaction, but it’s also where transformation begins.

Let yourself feel it. Sit with the heaviness of what has happened. Sit with the knowledge that, even unintentionally, we have played a role in systems that harm others. Resist the urge to justify, deflect, or say, “But I didn’t mean to.” Intentions matter less than impact.

Discomfort isn’t something to run from; it’s something to lean into. It’s a signal that you’re starting to see the cracks in the foundation, the places where change is desperately needed. And here’s the thing: the more you practice sitting with it, the more resilient you become. Discomfort becomes a guide, showing you where the work needs to happen next.

Listen and Learn

We don’t have all the answers, and that’s okay. What’s not okay is staying uninformed when resources are everywhere. The first step in listening and learning is humility—recognizing that others have lived experiences we can’t fully understand but must deeply respect.

Start by seeking out voices that challenge your perspective. Read books, listen to podcasts, and follow thought leaders—especially those from marginalized communities. Here are just a few starting points:

• Books: On Fascism: 12 Lessons from American History by Matthew C. MacWilliams, So You Want to Talk About Race by Ijeoma Oluo, Me and White Supremacy by Layla F. Saad.
• Podcasts: “Code Switch,” “1619,” “Pod Save the People.”
• Activists: Follow Black, Indigenous, and People of Color (BIPOC) activists and leaders on social media.

But here’s the key: don’t stop at consuming information. Ask yourself what you’re going to do with what you’ve learned. How will you use this knowledge to act? Listening isn’t passive—it’s a step toward meaningful engagement.

Speak Up, Even When It’s Hard

This is where many of us falter. It’s easy to share a post or attend a protest. It’s harder to speak up in the spaces where silence has long been the norm. But these moments—around dinner tables, in workplace meetings, and with friends—are where real change begins.

The next time someone makes a racist joke, perpetuates a stereotype, or dismisses inequality, say something. It doesn’t have to be a grand, confrontational speech. Start with:

• “I don’t think that’s true, and here’s why.”
• “Can we talk about that comment? I think it might come across differently than you meant.”
• “I feel uncomfortable when I hear that. Let’s unpack this together.”

Yes, it’s awkward. Yes, it’s uncomfortable. But these are the moments that count. These are the moments where silence perpetuates harm, and speaking up plants the seeds of change.

Vote Like It’s Your Job (Because It Is)

Voting isn’t a one-time event; it’s a continuous commitment to shaping the world we want to live in. It’s easy to focus on presidential elections, but local and state elections are just as critical—often more so.

Take the time to research every candidate and ballot measure. Look beyond party lines and ask:

• Who is advocating for equity, justice, and human rights?
• Who is working to dismantle systemic oppression?
• Who has a track record—not just promises—of standing with marginalized communities?

And don’t stop at your own vote. Talk to your friends and family about the importance of showing up at the polls. Volunteer with voter registration drives. Donate to organizations that fight voter suppression. Voting is one of the most powerful tools we have—but only if we use it.

Support the Work Already Happening

This fight didn’t start with us, and it won’t end with us. There are countless movements, organizations, and leaders who have been doing this work long before we arrived. Our job isn’t to reinvent the wheel; it’s to show up and support those who are already pushing for change.

Find organizations led by BIPOC, LGBTQ+, and other marginalized groups. Donate if you can, but also look for ways to contribute your time, skills, and platform. This might mean:

• Volunteering for mutual aid networks.
• Amplifying the voices of activists and community leaders.
• Offering professional skills (like writing, organizing, or graphic design) to grassroots campaigns.

Most importantly, follow their lead. This isn’t about swooping in to “save” anyone. It’s about standing in solidarity, recognizing the expertise of those who have lived these struggles, and being a reliable ally in the fight for justice.

The Path Forward

This work is long, messy, and imperfect. But it’s also worth it. Every conversation, every vote, every act of solidarity chips away at systems that thrive on silence and complicity.

We don’t have to do it all at once. But we do have to start. The question is: Are we ready to sit with the discomfort, own our responsibility, and show up—not just for ourselves but for a world where everyone can thrive?

 

 

 

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