The 7 stages of white people getting woke

We all watched as Matt McGorry went from the cute prison guard in Orange is the New Black to that woke white guy who’s using his celebrity influence to raise awareness around injustice and inequality. Thanks to the Internet and the removal of media gatekeepers, we’ve seen a growing number of prominent celebrities (what up, Penn Badgley!) wake up to the harsh realities that people of color face. Anyone who can access the web has a voice now, and while the Internet can be a breeding ground for hatred, it's also a place where we can learn from each others' experiences.

I know I'm not alone in waking up to the subtle and insidious ways that racism permeates the lives of so many Americans. Although I doubt most white people believe we're living in a "post-racial America," hearing stories from POCs about their experiences with racism is eye-opening. From rampant police brutality and heightened incarceration rates to socioeconomic inequality and job discrimination, there's an entire segment of America that many white people are unaware of. 

At least, that's until they wake the hell up, and see what's going on around them. When white people go from oblivious to activist, there’s a certain pattern that emerges. Here are the seven stages of getting "woke":

Maybe the seed was planted by the execution of Trayvon Martin. Maybe the videos of Tamir Rice or Michael Brown or Freddie Gray or Eric Garner made you recognize that something is not right, here—that there is a very real, very serious problem with the way people of color are treated in America. That recognition, like a light bulb above the head, changed everything. You knew you'd never be the same again. You knew something you couldn’t un-know.

So yeah, you feel guilty. And frustrated. And helpless. And then a little more guilty. But then you realize that your feelings are really not as important as decades of injustice, so you just sit back, listen, and then listen some more. Because white people's feelings about racism < people of color's actual racist reality. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

After recognition, it becomes all about research: reading books that may be uncomfortable to read; reading about privilege and the ways the world has opened doors for you based on your skin color—but closed doors on others for theirs. You go down the rabbit hole of information, and the more you read, the angrier you become. You start thinking: How did I not notice any of this before? How is this still the reality we're living in? This is all super messed up.

So, you fill your Amazon cart with books. You read novels by people of color. You click on essays by people of color. You want to know, to learn more, to be awake. You're done sticking your head in the sand, and pretending everything is fine.

Although knowledge is power, all the knowledge you now have makes you feel helpless. What should you do with your privilege? How can you help? How do you do your part to make things more equal? You're only one person, so you feel horrible that you can’t do anything to help except pay attention.

You try hard not to slip into feeling guilty, which will only lead you to feeling resentful and angry. The world does not need more resentful people. The world needs hopeful people, so you start to have hope—or at least, you try.

You go deep into the world of Black Twitter. You laugh because Black Twitter is so fun and full of awesome GIFs. Literally everything Black Twitter does is cooler than anything else happening on Twitter.

You follow @deray. You think about buying a blue vest like Deray’s. You learn about grace and love from Deray and others—that even when it’s bleak and dangerous and scary in the world, there's still hope. You get warm and fuzzy over Deray’s nightly “remember to dream” tweets.

Once you know what you know, you can’t stay silent on the matter. You start posting to Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram—wherever possible. Lots of people agree with you, and you start feeling hopeful that society's consciousness is changing.

Then, the comments that start with “actually” start rolling in. Your family members post racist memes on Facebook, and it takes everything you have to not rip into them. You fight with people you love, urging them to see how hurtful their views are.

Mute. Block. Unfriend. Hide posts. Unfollow. Breathe.

Every woke white person eventually has to go through an exhaustive social media purge. Racist cousins? Unfriend. That aunt who thinks Syrian refugees should be banned from America? Unfriend. The random person from high school who's always like, "Why doesn't anyone care when a white person gets killed by the police?" Anyone who supports Donald Trump? Block.

UNFRIEND. UNFRIEND. UNFRIEND.

Eventually, you realize (and hope) that America's consciousness is evolving. There's a light in the distance. You can’t focus only on the negative, otherwise it'll swallow you whole. So, you stay aware, check your privilege, and keep your anger productive.

Above all, you remember to hope for something better, to believe it can happen. Change isn't happening all at once, but it is happening.