the dark side of 'you do you'

Nashville is beginning to reopen this week after a Safer at Home decree first ordered on March 22. The easing of restrictions rips away the sense of normal we found in seven weeks of isolation. We realize now that what we think is normal, or safe, does not perfectly align with the plans of friends. Some think it’s time to party, gathering with different friends, sharing food and giving hugs.  Others think it is appropriate to stay home, only going out for food, always wearing a mask. When our notions of normal are different, we should not be surprised to realize our actions will also be different.

As I have felt judged by others, or sensed judgment rise up in me, I also hear many remind us that such differences are to be expected, that we need to have grace for each other. We should assume we are all doing the best we can do. This desire to live at peace with people living really differently is noble, but putting it into practice is hard, because the choices other people make impact the people around them.

When norms are in flux, it causes discomfort. This tension arises because we have not agreed on a norm, a set of appropriate actions or beliefs, as a city. What is expected of us, and what can we expect of others? Am I responsible only for my speech and actions, or does living in a community require me to respond to the words or actions of those around me? Coming out of quarantine brings these issues to the surface, but these questions are not new. Philosophers, theologians and social activists have long wondered how we are responsible for deeds done or words uttered in our presence.

We live in an age in which tolerance seems to be the highest relational goal. A strong norm permeating our culture is the mantra, “You do you.” Replacing strict moral codes and harsh judgments, I am a fan of folks staying in their lane, taking responsibility for themselves alone. However, you do you has a dark side, with the potential to destroy communities.

In fact, you do you sounds empowering, but it often photoshops a more selfish sentiment: I want nothing to do with you. These words offer me a way to wash my hands of you, to move on without a second thought. If your choices, motivations or actions are hard for me to understand, I have a few choices. One, I can pass judgment, deeming you wrong-headed without taking the time to understand. Two, I can tolerate you, saying you do you as if it is a vote of confidence, when in fact it is a statement of dismissal.  Three, I can demonstrate the value I find in you by asking you to help me understand your thinking around a choice. While you do you sounds affirming, I’m not sure that it is loving. Our cultural norm of tolerance asks us to only tolerate each other, no matter how dangerous or destructive our actions or words may be. I’m afraid you do you short circuits communities, absolving us from engaging with what is said or done around us.

The death of Mr. Ahmaud Aubery, and our diverse responses to it, reveals this break down in community. When it comes to race, our society has proven stubbornly opposed to finding a norm. Some of us live as if every human is worthy of dignity, and take active steps to name injustice and change the foundational systems that privilege whiteness in every power sector. Some of us live as if any challenge to the status quo of white belonging (and brown exclusion) is whining or unpatriotic or race baiting or trouble making. Some of us think racism has never been honestly faced or dealt with in America, and it is the root of massive injustice in every part of society. Some of us think racism ended with the Civil War, and people need to get over it and earn their rights by becoming productive members of a society that rewards hard work and good manners.

Another way to say this is that in some parts of society, antiracist behavior is considered normal, while in others, subtle judgments based on race are shrugged off and accepted as normal. Both of these norms dominate our culture, and probably determine how responsible we feel for what is said or done in our presence.

As quarantines end, we face the reality of changing norms of behavior. It is unsettling and can create tension. Conversations about Mr. Aubery’s death also expose opposing norms on what is acceptable to say or do. Most folks agree that if this was active racism, rooted in extreme exclusion and resulting in physical violence, it is evil. It is not normal or accepted behavior.

Is it normal to suggest he probably provoked them though? Is it normal to joke that I guess he picked the wrong street to run down or explore? Is it normal to stay silent when people of color in every city constantly wonder if their presence causes suspicion that will lead to violence?

If we want to expand our us, to create communities of belonging, to take care of each other, then we must develop the courage to reject norms that hurt people. Instead of allowing subtle racism or suspicion to be normal, make it normal to reject such speech. When it comes to mocking pain or ostracizing people outside your race or tax bracket, take responsibility for what is said or done around you. Make it normal to value others. Make it normal to listen until you understand someone’s perspective. Reject you do you, and make it normal to care about how a person lives and finds meaning.

Fluctuating norms cause tension, but they also give us a chance to reevaluate what we care about. Racism is alive and well and—even if veiled—normal in lots of conversations. Imagine how norms could change if we care enough about our communities to respond to what is said or done in our presence. We might shift what is considered normal, and find ourselves living in a more perfect union.