Letters for Black Lives is a set of crowdsourced, multilingual, and culturally-aware resources aimed at creating a space for open and honest conversations about racial justice, police violence, and anti-Blackness in our families and communities.
We wrote a letter in 2016, and we’ve written a new one for 2020.
Publish on LettersForBlackLives.com
Mom, Dad, Uncle, Auntie, Grandfather, Grandmother, Family:
We need to talk.
You may not have many Black friends, colleagues, or acquaintances, but I do. Black people are a fundamental part of my life: they are my friends, my neighbors, my family. I am scared for them.
Recently, in Minnesota, a white police officer killed a Black man named George Floyd by kneeling on his neck for almost 9 minutes—ignoring his repeated cries that he was unable to breathe. Two more police officers helped pin Floyd down, while a fourth, Asian officer stood guard and didn't intervene. Floyd is not alone: Already this year, police officers killed Dreasjon Reed in Indiana and Tony McDade in Florida in May, and Breonna Taylor in Kentucky in March. An ex-detective killed Ahmaud Arbery in Georgia in February.
Overwhelmingly, the police haven’t faced consequences for murdering Black people, even when there’s been extensive media coverage. Imagine how many more incidents go unrecorded or unseen.
This is a terrifying reality that the Black people I care about live with every day.
You might be thinking: We are also a minority. We’ve managed to come to America with nothing and built good lives for ourselves despite discrimination, so why can’t they?
I want to share with you how I see things. I am telling you this out of love, because I want all of us, including myself, to do better.
For the most part, when we walk down the street, people do not view us as a threat. We do not leave our homes, wondering whether or not we will return that day. We don't fear that we may die if we're pulled over by the police.
This is not the case for our Black friends.
The vast majority of Black Americans are descendants of people who were sold into slavery and brought here against their will. For centuries, their communities, families, and bodies were abused as property for profit. Even after slavery, the government has not allowed them to build their lives—it has legally denied them the right to vote, get an education, or own homes and businesses. These inequalities are enforced by police and prisons—which can be directly traced back to white slave patrols and plantations. Black people are under a constant threat of violence that continues today. Their oppression has not ended; it has only changed form.
Black people have not only persisted but also persevered against all odds. They’ve been beaten by police, jailed, and killed while fighting for many of the rights that we all enjoy today. Even in an unfair system that pits us against each other, Black organizers helped to end unfair immigration laws and racial segregation for us all.
Though there has been progress, this unfair system is still winning. Throughout these hundreds of years, our government is still killing Black people and getting away with it.
I understand that you’re worried and scared about the looting and property destruction that you are seeing. But imagine how hurt you would be to see other people express more care for replaceable material objects than for the lives of your loved ones. How hurt you must be to protest like this in the middle of a pandemic. Imagine the exhaustion of fighting against the same state violence that your ancestors fought against.
This is why I support the Black Lives Matter movement.
Part of that support means speaking up when I see people in my community—even my own family—say or do things that diminish the humanity of Black people. Our silence has a cost and we need to talk about it.
I am eternally grateful for the struggles you have endured in a country that has not always been kind to you. We have been blamed for bringing poverty, disease, terrorism, and crime. You’ve suffered through a prejudiced America so that I could have a better life.
But these struggles also make it clearer than ever that we are all in this together, and we cannot feel safe until our Black friends, loved ones, and neighbors are safe. The world that we seek is a place where we can all live without fear. This is the future that I want—and I hope you want it, too.
With love and hope,
Your children
Take it—it’s yours! Every family has a different experience, and this is merely a resource for you to use.
The letter and its translations are published with a CC0 Public Domain waiver. Anyone can use any part of it, though a link back to lettersforblacklives.com or a shoutout on our Twitter or Instagram (both are @LettersForBL) would be appreciated.
We coordinate all team translation efforts in our Slack Community. Currently there are over 40 translations in progress.
Everyone is welcome, however you will need to read through and opt-in to our Code of Conduct before joining. Once you’re in, head to the #translations channel and we’ll help you get started. Join the Letters for Black Lives Community.
Dozens of individuals contributed to the writing of this letter. Here’s how we approached it.
The goal of the letter is to start a conversation with loved ones about the unique struggles that the Black community faces. We are not trying to prove we are “right” through debate (this letter is not intended to help you win an argument). We need to meet people where they are so they will be open to a perspective other than their own. After reading, people should understand they should be listening and reflecting.
This is primarily a call for empathy and understanding. The Asian immigrant community as a whole doesn’t see police brutality against Black people as “their problem” and are sometimes even anti-Black themselves. That may be true for your community, too. This is a conversation starter to ask for a willingness to stop and listen rather than getting immediately judgmental/defensive when we broach these issues with them.
Explain why we are in solidarity with Black Lives Matter, and how we’re affected by these shootings even if we are not the direct target.
Be brief. Closer to 500 words than 5000.
Be personal. Write a letter, not a term paper. Avoid academic terms.
Be open. The Letter should be openly available for anyone to use however they’d like.
Be adaptable. While it’s being written by members of the Asian American community focusing on the United States, it should be an effective template for other communities in other countries.
Guide, don’t lecture. For example, the letter moves gradually from talking about Black people closest to us, to talking about all Black people whether or not we are related. This narrative arc is intentional.
Focus. There are so many things we wanted to include but couldn’t. We’ve placed these resources in our Supplemental Talking Points.
A Letter From Young Asian-Americans To Their Families About Black Lives Matter (via NPR)
Meeting People Where They Are: The Seed Crystal of the Letters for Black Lives Project (via Reappropriate)
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