An open letter to my rich white friends
This is not your normal “here’s where you donate” post. This is an invitation and a loving challenge.
Stolen wealth. Hoarded resources. These words trigger intense emotions in me. I am not sure if they are intended to be provocative or they’re actually just telling it like it is and the reality behind them is what makes me shake.
I don’t think they are radical words though, really. Looking back at history it seems clear that the land was stolen from its original stewards and the wealth extracted from slave labor. That’s the foundation of our economy — of our country. Land and labor.
My own share in that wealth is complex. But I know I have hoarded the wealth I have accumulated — that’s conventional wisdom among rich people after all. And though I may not have stolen in the obvious sense, my earning power derives from the machinations of the market much more than my own capabilities. If I am earning ample money during a period of increasing inequality, it’s not a stretch to call it stealing. The money has to come from somewhere.
I am working on divesting in order to align my actions with this analysis. And more importantly to put my money where my mouth, and my heart, is.
Scratch that — not my money. See, it’s so easy to forget that it’s stolen…
Thanks to an invitation and loving challenge from a friend, I am taking another step forward and committing to divest $25,000 this year towards Black liberation organizing. That is about 27% of my post-tax income this year, and 10% of my net wealth (excluding potential inheritance).
This context is important, because when rich people give away money, you can be sure they are also keeping more than enough for themselves. Do not equate generosity with risk unless you see the denominator. Ask how much money is left.
It is traditional to not speak publicly about numbers like these. Rich people practice secrecy under a guise of false humility in order to protect their power. Either that or they are so rich they can’t hide it, so they settle for having buildings named after them.
I reject hiding wealth as well as lionizing donors. Both are dehumanizing. I want to be held to account.
Money is power. You and I certainly do not wield Bezos-level moneypower, but the moneypower we wield is significant. Not just in magnitude, but also in symbol and story.
This moneypower belongs in the hands of those who I hope will lead us towards a just society: Black organizers. We cannot win change without shifting power, and I for one want to put all the power I have at my disposal on the right side of history. I do not want to be fraudulent.
What about you?
To my wealthy white friends and community: I see you showing up beautifully right now. You are reading, you are posting, you are in the streets.
I am writing to ask: are you also divesting? Will you take a step towards divesting your stolen/hoarded wealth?
It doesn’t need to look like my step. We each walk our own path. It took me over a decade as a high-wage-earner and a lifetime as a rich person to reach this step. It would be my pleasure and honor to support whatever your next step is. And I’d bet you probably already know what it is, in your gut.
This is my invitation and loving challenge to you.
Here are some first steps:
- Write me back directly and let’s talk.
- Get involved with an organization and work through this stuff in community: e.g. Resource Generation (for young people with wealth, where I’m a member and get support) or Community Ready Corps Allies & Accomplices (for cross-class white anti-racist work, which developed the divestment framework that inspired this piece).
