“Whenever there is domination, love is absent.” — bell hooks
One of my former students, a mixed-race woman, was a talented volunteer at a well-known retreat center. Because of her administrative skills, she was able to attend the event for free. After working in the office all day, she decided to participate in evening meditation. She smiled and bowed to her two older white female volunteers who were manning the front entrance to the meditation hall, reserved a seat for her and began her practice. After a while, a volunteer broke her silence. “I’m sorry,” she said. “This is the first time we’ve met, and you didn’t pay when you came in.” My student was understandably surprised by the sudden interruption. She was forced to quickly shift from cultivating her mindfulness to self-defense. This disrespectful behavior was in stark contrast to the center’s signs that read, “Everyone is welcome” and “We won’t turn you away just because you can’t pay.”
Another student, a tall black gentleman, was practicing walking meditation during a seven-day silent retreat. A white woman passed by, stopped her car, and got out. she asked aggressively. “What are you doing here? Should you be here? Who are you?” Forced to break his noble vow of silence, he asked, “Who are you?” She refused to reveal her identity and quickly changed her tone. “I’m just trying to help.” he asked quietly. “Does it look like I need your help?” Returning to his mindfulness practice, he realized that if he were white, this probably would never have happened. He didn’t need to do that at all.
“All practitioners must let go of their attachment to rightness. The practice of forgiveness benefits everyone, including ourselves.”
I was six weeks into a two-month silent retreat, meditating 10-12 hours a day. I connected deeply with two senior white teachers, deepening my meditation and bringing new and unexpected benefits I had never experienced before. In the last two weeks, a new manager was on her first day on the job. As I was waiting to speak with one of my beloved mentors, this white woman asked, “Why don’t you meditate?” As an older, gay Arab American, I wondered why she chose me when there were so many others. She knew I had taken a vow of silence, but her tone demanded a response. I carefully asked, “Are you the meditation police?” She gasped and hurried off.
Another time, I was teaching at a meditation center that prides itself on inclusivity. The walls are plastered with a meticulously worded mission statement and rules for wise speech in large, bold letters. We ended the night with a 30 minute guided meditation. Oddly enough, the two white female volunteer coordinators chose not to practice in the sangha that night. Instead, they spent 30 minutes talking in the lunchroom. This has never happened before.
Before sitting down, I noticed the time and asked the community for permission to run a little too far to ensure I got 30 minutes of practice. Everyone agreed. I rang the bell and we sat in noble silence. After 25 minutes, I focused deeply, closed my eyes, and enjoyed the silence. Suddenly, one of the coordinators pushed me hard on the shoulder. I was surprised. I’ve never had anyone interrupt my meditation before. She was near my lavalier microphone, which was still on. It aired her saying, “John, you’re working overtime.”
Immediately, over 40 meditators were thrown into confusion. She didn’t know we had come to an agreement on an extension because she chose to go to the lunchroom instead of practice. What did she feel was so important that we didn’t need an extra 5 in our practice? Why would someone volunteer at a meditation center, avoid meditation itself, and have such a controlling power that it disrupts everyone’s meditation? Because everything didn’t end as planned.
These examples of white volunteers challenging the presence or asserting superiority of BIPOC practitioners in spiritual communities are not new and are rarely brought up. While microaggressions like this are often excused as isolated incidents, BIPOC recognize that it is a recurring pattern. Since the killing of George Floyd, many communities have sought to increase inclusivity. BIPOC are told that our diverse experiences and skills are needed, welcomed, and valued. We come to Dharma to find sanctuary within a spiritual community. But what we sometimes see is the same harmful bias that we experience throughout society. When this happens, BIPOC practitioners understandably leave, never to return. Why do we repeatedly expose ourselves to victimization when usually no one is held responsible? It is our responsibility to educate people, especially those who are subtly and overtly suspicious of us. Not. When this happens, both centers and all practitioners lose.
Nonprofit centers can’t say no to free labor when they rely on it to keep their doors open. However, unpaid volunteers require the same scrutiny as paid staff. It’s sad that people who dedicate their time and talents to diversity, equity, and inclusion to make everyone feel welcome and prevent potential macro- and microaggressions from happening. Very little training is required. Training is often not required or provided to paid staff and executives. But the issue of gatekeeper volunteers treating BIPOC practitioners in a disrespectful manner is occurring even at centers that pride themselves on their commitment to diversity, equity, and inclusion.
If the sangha is serious about preventing the unconscious bias that threatens BIPOC practitioners, it must use the right perspective and clearly observe itself and its actions without fear. The intention not to do harm does not eradicate complicity in causing it. Criminals are always given the benefit of the doubt when they overstep their authority. Teachers are on duty regularly, but volunteers are not. Even where volunteers who commit crimes have graduated from the “How to Become a White Ally” anti-racism program, there is no solution given the center’s inability to hold volunteers accountable for their harmful actions. . It’s as if their generosity of time and effort trumps their aggressive behavior. Because there are no serious consequences for acts of unkindness toward BIPOC, there is a tacit understanding that acts of unkindness will be repeated.
If you participate in a community, you need reassurance that no harm will continue. First, we all must examine and heal our own greed, hatred, and delusion. inside Adittaparya SuttaIn this sermon, also known as the Fire Sermon, the Buddha said: “Monk, everything is on fire. Why is it on fire? It is on fire with the fire of greed, the fire of hatred, the fire of delusion.” The teachings on greed, hatred, and delusion are useful for those new to the Dharma, as well as for the experienced. For practitioners as well, it must be primary in all practices at our centers and in our personal spiritual growth.
If our centers are truly dedicated to the Buddha’s Third Noble Truth: the cause of the end of suffering, ongoing sensitivity training will be mandatory and we will all be encouraged to take inventory of our own personal biases. Knowing this, we will learn how to prevent our conscious and unconscious biases from causing potential harm in both subtle and overt everyday movements. With that in mind, I humbly offer these invitations to white allies and BIPOC practitioners.
For white practitioners:
- Do not interrupt your meditation practice.
- Don’t use strong emotions to justify an immediate reaction until you’re sure of your intentions and they’re well-received.
- Please try to practice wise speech. Is what you have to say true? Is the timing right? Who benefits from what you say? Can you speak kindly? If you can’t do that, consider sitting still until you can.
- Think carefully about how BIPOC may respond differently to what you say in front you speak Anticipate the potential harm you may cause. If you are unsure, please wait.
- Don’t think you’re right. Truth is always relative and never absolute.
- Please be responsible. When we do something wrong, we should apologize and assure the person we hurt that we will try not to cause any further offense.
- work and Discomfort. Discomfort is part of being alive and we need to accept it. If you are uncomfortable, think about why before you act. Don’t blame others for your discomfort just because you are used to being treated with care.
For BIPOC practitioners:
- Rally your support and practice self-care. Creating your own practice circle is a good first step. Find someone who is safe and supportive of you and work through your practice with them.
- Address unwanted behavior. We demand accountability even when criminals have institutional support. We cannot normalize by allowing attacks to continue.
- White fragility often responds with gaslighting. Do your best to see it and name it in that moment if you can. As an immigrant, it took me a lifetime to feel like I belonged and to internalize that my voice was valued. This is easier said than done, but this is an invitation to interrupt while you can.
- Don’t take things too personally. Sure, it may feel that way in the moment, but it’s not about us. In most cases, harm says more about the perpetrator than it does about the person offended. Try to avoid becoming a victim to anyone as much as possible.
- Although we may feel compelled to give up on certain communities or centers, we must never give up on our practice.
Finally, all practitioners must abandon their attachment to being right. Practicing forgiveness benefits everyone, including yourself. Remember that the greatest gift you can give yourself, your friends, your family, and your community is self-healing. Mindfulness practices, when combined with therapy and other resonance modalities, can help us continually understand intergenerational, historical, familial, and societal trauma. Meditation can help increase your mindfulness, but it’s not about avoiding past or present pain. Rather, it is meant to raise awareness of the work that still needs to be done.
We also need to understand that Buddhist teachings and meditation practices are not just about making us feel better, but about freeing us from our own delusions. The most important teaching of the Buddha is that the truth of suffering must be known. The cause of suffering should be abandoned. The end of suffering will be realized and the path to the end of suffering will be followed. We can learn from the rough waters we have already overcome to end suffering for ourselves and others. We can use lessons learned from past storms to quell flare-ups that could cause future harm. This is our practice.
