Season 1 / Bad Vibes: Challenging the Systems - with Selam Debs

In this episode, Ariana chats with Selam Debs about how racism is affecting our brothers and sisters of colour, how we as white folks are a part of perpetuating problematic systems, how she is using her voice to speak truth to power, and how we can all raise anti-racist children.



Selam was born in Amman, Jordan, and grew up around Toronto, Ontario. She is a single mom, active in the community fighting for Black liberation and justice, owns the Juici Yoga studio teaching wellness, and is a singer, poet, and writer. Selam has created several workshops where she speaks about anti-racism and provides insight to those searching.


You can find Selam on Twitter and Instagram.
If you are interested to learn more, you can find her courses and workshops here.


If you have any questions or comments on this episode, or need further clarification on anything you’ve heard, please don’t hesitate to reach out in person or contact us at activelistening.life@gmail.com. You can also find us on Instagram, and reviews on iTunes are always welcome! Thanks for listening!



Ariana deVries

Welcome to the podcast everybody. I'm your host, Ariana, and I have the great pleasure today of talking with Selam Debs. Selam, thank you so much for joining us today. I am so glad to have you here and to hear your story. So thank you.

Selam Debs

Thank you for having me.

Ariana deVries

So for the listeners who don't know who you are, you are a lot of things and I'm going to list them now. You are a mom, an activist and a yoga and wellness professional, singer, speaker, poet and writer. You were born in Amman, Jordan and grew up in Regent Park in Scarborough. You do a lot of things in the community. And you are very active in helping people to understand what it means to be anti racist, and to create more awareness around that and sharing your story and helping people understand that. So that is wonderful. And thank you so much for the work that you do in that. What else are you working on currently?

Selam Debs

Well, I think, yeah, thank you for the introduction. I was born in Amman, Jordan. I am Ethiopian Canadian, and I grew up in Regent Park, and in Scarborough, and also in Kitchener Waterloo and certain communities. But what am I working on? I'm working on creating boundaries, and working on caring for my own well being. I mean, there's always work happening in the background. And speaking or facilitating workshops, I have my anti racism cohort that started recently. And we've been on a journey together over the last couple of weeks. And so there's a lot happening, also a yoga studio owner and teaching yoga and meditation, managing owning a studio, a mother also of a 16 year old boy.

Ariana deVries

You are busy.

Selam Debs

Yeah, it's busy and full time. So I think for me, you know, work is always happening. And I'm always involved in so many different community things that also never get added to the list. Because although I teach anti racism and anti oppression, and I, you know, manage it and own a yoga studio and teach yoga meditation, there's also so much that happens in community where you're supporting community initiatives, and a part of all these things are happening in the background that often people don't see. So yeah, most of my evenings are busy and packed, most. So I try to keep my weekends aside for really caring for my own well being.

Ariana deVries

That's good. Yeah, and life is about so much more than the different titles that we have placed on ourselves or that other people place on ourselves too right. So creating the space to be able to have the time to just be you is very important, and valuable. So that's great. I'm glad that is something that you are working on. And I think that's something that we all need to get better at.

Selam Debs

Absolutely.

Ariana deVries

So my desire, really, for this conversation is to create a space for your story and your experiences. And for you to be heard without me needing to speak too much. I guess, kind of in the very act of saying, oh, I want to create a space for you to elevate your voice that's like, the very thing that we actually are talking about here too, in a lot of ways is that me as a white person needs to do something in order for you to be heard, right. So that all aside, this may be a difficult conversation for some people to put themselves in the understanding position of and I hope that in our conversation that we can help create a space for people to understand and that it brings into relief a little bit some things that people maybe didn't see clearly before. So let's jump into your story. And I want to hear a little bit of what your origin story is and what life was like for you growing up and how that helped to shape your view of the world.

Selam Debs

Mm hmm. Yeah, I mean, I want to start firstly, also by just saying that, that I live and work on the traditional territory of the Neutral, Anishnaabeg, and Haudenosaunee peoples and I'm situated on the Haldimand Tract, the land promised to Six Nations and which is basically six miles on on each side of the Grand River. And, you know, the important part for me, I think, to start there is I think it's important for us to understand that understanding our social location, understanding like who we are, our position and our relationship to the land, I think, for me as a black, Ethiopian, queer, Mother, you know, cis woman, that so many parts of who I am today and my identity and why I do this work, and the barriers that I have faced have really shaped everything that I that I do today.

So when I think about Indigenous sovereignty, I think about black sovereignty. And I think about black freedom. And I guess that takes me to, you know, growing up and being raised by two black Ethiopian parents, mother and father who, you know, grew up in Ethiopia, had to flee Ethiopia, by foot due to civil unrest, to Sudan. From Sudan they moved to Jordan, Amman, Jordan, where my father was really, really pursuing an academic, you know, pathway and has multiple degrees. And that was really his focus. And when I was born in Amman, Jordan, and they came to Canada to so called Canada that really, they divorced upon arrival. And I experienced in my parents, I experienced through my mother, really the disparities that come with being in a black body, and a body that seen as other as immigrants, as you know, seen as not part of the norm. And really living in disinvested communities with my single black mother. We lived in Regent Park, which is a very disenfranchised and disinvested community in Toronto. We lived in Scarborough. And during that time, we were so fortunate to have so many rich cultures and people and beauty and music, and really was such an incredible part of my identity and my my lived experience. And we were living in communities who are disinvested in, oppressed, marginalized. And so I think that's a big part of you know, who I am today.

As I, we moved to Kitchener Waterloo, where my mom thought that she was, you know, saving me, and creating a safer community for us. But really, we just lived in the same disinvested communities that exist in every community, of black indigenous and racialized people, and especially a lot of black and racialized folks. And, you know, I think facing a lot of racism, being streamlined into lower grades in high school, experiencing sexual abuse at the age of nine, and then also sexual assaults at the age of 16, and having to come face to face with so many systems, and then having my son at the age of 21. I was a single mother and raising him on my own, going through a divorce and all the things that happen years later - I am kind of, sometimes it is like, I just need to write a book because I don't understand how I survived so many things and watched my mom survive the daily abuse of micro aggressions of cleaning, you know, white people's homes, cleaning hotels, and going through what she went through.

So I think my life is really, when I tell my story, it's a dichotomy between so much beauty, artistry, music, poetry, singing, expression, and then also quite a bit of trauma.

Ariana deVries

Yeah. And that really shapes who you are for both positive and negative, but it's all now a part of you, even if we wish that those stories didn't have to be. Have you been able to find a sense of community here, even though it's not one that's easily suited? Or that's easy to find?

Selam Debs

When we say here, are we saying Kitchener Waterloo?

Ariana deVries

Oh, yeah, we're saying like, here as in Canada, when you're in Toronto and here in Kitchener. Because you move from one area, trying to find safety and a sense of community, to Kitchener trying to find that as well.

Selam Debs

Mm hmm. Well, I think ironically, you know, what was considered safe, and what was considered, you know, a more proper community to live in, was, you know, the goal was to move into wider communities, right. And so I think for me, I always had a real rejection to that unconsciously, I think, growing up because the communities I grew up in, although they were disenfranchised, I was surrounded by black and you know, racialized and people of colour, and felt so deeply supported in many ways, too.

So there is, you know, I think there's an unlearning there that I had to do. And actually left Kitchener Waterloo after high school and told my mom, I'm out, I can't do this. I need, I need my people, and actually moved back to Toronto. And then coming back to Kitchener Waterloo and raising my son here. You know, I think I have found my community for sure. I found a community of folks who are really passionate about human rights. Passionate about activism passionate about really showing up in a way in which we are culturally aware, which we're vibrant. So yes, it's taken me a very long time to get here. But I don't think that I really truly found my community until I actually really, really connected deeply into my own black identity. And also until I started to do a lot of my own healing work, and was able to, like, articulate and speak to the ways in which systems have really dramatically impacted my life chances.

Ariana deVries

Yeah. Because I feel like until you can ask hard questions of yourself and know what you need, you don't actually even know what you need from community either, right?

Selam Debs

Mm hmm.

Ariana deVries

Yeah. So then, being in this community that is predominantly white, and in a world in a society that is predominantly white, how do you stay true to yourself into your beliefs to your goodness, when you're met, day after day with people and systems that are perpetuating this problem of racism?

Selam Debs

Yeah, well, actually, Ariana, black and brown people are the global majority.

Ariana deVries

Yeah.

Selam Debs

And so I think it's really important for us to understand that part. And though whiteness is considered as the benchmark to which everything is measured by. So whether you're in Ethiopia, you're in Kenya, whether you're in India, or you are in Cambodia, whether you are in, you know, Toronto, or you're in New York. It's the realization that whiteness has been considered the benchmark. And it's to the detriments of black, indigenous, and racialized people and the oppression of black, indigenous, and racialized people globally. And so sorry, the second part of your question was, Ariana?

Ariana deVries

Yeah, no problem. It was how do you stay true to yourself in your beliefs, when you're met day after day with this?

Selam Debs

It's taken me a long time to get here. I think that I used to have a group of, I used to feel like I lived in two different worlds. So I have my black and racialized friends that I was really close to and family. And, you know, I had this identity and a way of being in the world that I felt was really authentic in many ways. And then I had a couple, you know, really close white friends that I used to go to cottages to, and that I used to be able to kind of assimilate with and I was considered more of the token black friend. And I knew how to really code switch, and shift and transform who I was, and the different spaces that I am in, I've been in.

And so it took me a really long time to stop code switching to realize that that was violence, that that was abuse. And that when I did start to speak up in those spaces, and share with, you know, a lot of my white female friends that, you know, the things that they were saying were racist that were harmful, or homophobic. That I was met with a lot of tension. I was met with a lot of anger. I was met with a lot of white violence. And so it took me a while to have to kind of move through those relationships, and out of those relationships, be more authentically myself, even in my black community and my racialized communities, and with whoever I'm in. So no matter what space I'm in, I am myself. But it took me a long time to get to that place of healing, of unlearning, of decolonizing myself. And now I feel like it doesn't matter who you are of whatever space I'm in. I will be me unapologetically. Which means yeah, you know, there's pushback. It's not easy. But I think it's, you know, me living my most authentic life now.

Ariana deVries

Yeah. Do you miss those friendships?

Selam Debs

Yeah, I do. And I had to warn them, because there were beautiful - some of those people were in my life for decades. And they were beautiful and impactful relationships. And it actually was really difficult because, on one hand, these women had been white women had been there for me in such impactful ways, and we had so many amazing experiences together. But on the other hand, I experienced a lot of violence and a lot of harm and abuse in those spaces. And so I realized after a while, that the only way that I could stay in friendship with them was if I put myself into a pretzel, and lived inauthentically and I had to hide my blackness. I had to hide that part of my identity. And I had to pretend that they weren't white. When really, you know, they were. They were saying a lot of things that white women say. And as my anti racism and anti oppression were continued to really, you know, level up and increase, it became increasingly less - I couldn't exist in those spaces anymore. So although I miss them, what I don't miss is how I had to be inauthentic and betray myself in those spaces.

Ariana deVries

Yeah, as I have heard you say before that the big component of this was when last year you did the BLM march, and you helped plan that, and you hosted that. And there's a lot of falling out around that once you shared how passionate you were about this with your friends, and how much you cared, and they just didn't understand. And when I heard you say that I was just, it made me sad for you. It made me sad for everybody who can't be the full expression of who they are because of simply the color of their skin, or their culture, or their upbringing, or what deeply matters to them. And to have somebody say something about you, makes me not comfortable, and to the point that I can't be with you anymore. I'm sorry. That's not something that you wish on anybody. And to have to experience the loss of friendship because you're being your true self, is not an easy thing to go through. And, like you said, the grief that comes with it, I can only imagine. And I'm not going to pretend that I'm going to ever understand that. But thank you for sharing.

I did have the pleasure of experiencing that march last year, and to be marching alongside brothers and sisters who were taking up the call. And it was such an incredible experience to be there and to see people from all different walks of life, and all different marginalized groups coming together to work towards unity, in some sense to, to show that we support you even if we don't understand. And I'm glad that I could be a part of that even though I didn't, at the time understand the full story and the full impact of what you were actually doing. It has helped to give me a jumping off point in some regards to greater understanding.

So thank you for what you did in that work. Yeah. And you were talking too about those friends who didn't understand and in the process of trying to communicate with them and experiencing the followout of those relationships, I am curious if you learned how to communicate better with people like that, in going through that. And if perhaps we have, or I have people in my life who don't understand either, how we can communicate in a way that helps to bring understanding, or if it's a matter of we need to let them go and continue pushing forward with what matters and what is important and what is true. I wonder if you could speak more to that.

Selam Debs

Yeah, thanks so much for the acknowledgments around friendship last, so definitely, there has been a lot of grief on top of a lot of other grief also, that's happened. You know, I think that the information and the education that is out there, around how to build you know, how to really understand inequities, the information and the way in which we, you know, can gain so much knowledge around anti black racism around anti ingenuity, I really don't believe that there is an excuse for not building this awareness.

You know, for a long time what we've been told as black people, for example, or indigenous people is, you know, say it nicer. If you just communicated it nicer, then I wouldn't have gotten angry. If you had just not said that I wouldn't have gotten angry. You know, if you just, you know, talk to white people in this way, maybe they'll understand. But the reality is, you know, where have we heard that before? What other groups of people say that? I think we in general, as women, which have very unique experiences. So I do not want to generalize women, we are very different in the way we experience the world. But, we know what it feels like as women to hear in spaces with men, "well, maybe she deserved it. Maybe if she said this, and she spoke this way it wouldn't have happened to her. Maybe if she dressed this way, it wouldn't have happened to her." Maybe, you know, all of these ways in which women's bodies are managed, controlled, surveilled, gaslit constantly in in our own sense of advocacy. When really at the end of the day, it really is up to those who are in a position of privilege, who benefit from whiteness, or benefit from, you know, patriarchy or so forth, to really build that awareness and ask themselves those questions. Because otherwise what happens is, you know, this idea that somehow white folks are not mature enough, or not strong enough, or not resilient enough to take the feedback and insight and information and education around racism, you know, just perpetuates this idea of fragility. When white folks aren't fragile. And in fact, when we think about colonialism, and we think about the history of enslavement, residential schools...

Ariana deVries

They conquered the world.

Selam Debs

Yeah, yeah, exactly. And not conquered, exploited.

Ariana deVries

Well, did everything wrong.

Selam Debs

Yeah. And, you know, sometimes we think of conquering or we think of pioneering in this positive way. But actually, it was a form of violence, and subjugation and exploitation, and oppression. And so that framework has to change. That recognition and understanding of asking black, indigenous or racialized people to communicate in a way that keeps you comfortable?

Ariana deVries

Yes.

Selam Debs

It is violence and it is harm, in and of itself.

Ariana deVries

Yeah. And that's something that I can't seem to wrap my mind around is why white people actually want to appear to be weak and fragile, like, I don't understand why people don't want to understand. Because yes, we're using it in a way to hurt people so that we actually, in the end, feel stronger, which is just so dumb.

Selam Debs

Well, if you think about it, it's actually a mechanism, right. So it's the ways in which white folks get to maintain the status quo. Because otherwise, what needs to happen is a sense of accountability. To avoid accountability, which is taking ownership, which is maybe the accountability looks like, you know, saying "yes, I wasn't present for slavery, or residential schools or for segregation, or I haven't created the policies, but I have benefited from white supremacy. I have benefited from a racist society. And I'm still contributing to the construct, and the structure of this racist society by doing nothing, by being silent by, you know, choosing to be good, rather than to be better, to do better." And so all those ways in which one is complicit is hard to look at that. Absolutely. However, until white folks start to do that work for themselves and start to do that excavation and self examination, interrogation and healing work for themselves, you know, we will continue to have these really disconnected and disembodied conversations around maintaining white comfort.

Ariana deVries

Yeah. And a lot of times in my conversations with fellow white folks, they don't understand the difference between white privilege and say, educational privilege, or financial privilege and things like that. And they equate it to all be the same thing, which it very much, most of the time, is. But a lot of people say, "Well, I don't have the same experiences as this person of color. So how can you say that I am, therefore, racist?" They are hard conversations to have, but they're necessary to have, talking to people who are like me and show them, okay, maybe look at it through somebody else's eyes for a minute and practice empathy a little bit. Because if you experienced what somebody else did, then maybe you would see the world a little bit differently. You have said a quote before, and you alluded to it a little bit to when you were talking about the way that women are affected by this. But you said that "the way black woman feel with white woman is the way that white woman feel with misogynistic men." And wow, that's, that's a big one to take in. Can you expand on that even further, and maybe share a little bit of what it means to suffer at the hands of white tears? And especially for white women?

Selam Debs

Mm hmm. Well, I think you know, what this conversation, this quote that you brought up, really speaks to is intersectionality, Right? So intersectionality is coined by Dr. Kimberle Crenshaw, and she was a lawyer and a civil rights activist who basically spoke to the ways in which you know the prism for seeing the ways in which various forms of inequality often operate together and exasperate each other.

So basically what Dr. Kimberly Crenshaw spoke to as a black woman is the ways in which, for example, you know, the ways in which black men have, or the ways in which black women rather experience not only sexism, we experience sexism and patriarchy and violence, but we also experience racism. And often when we think about society, and we think about how, you know, violence and oppression and racism show up, you know, and we think about feminist movements, in order to look at the ways in which women experience harm, what happens is, white women are often centralized in the ways in which we understand advocating for women's rights, right?

We think about the ways in which the Me Too movement was co-opted and stolen, and from a black woman, Tarana Burke, and made a kind of centralized white experience. We think about how the women's movement was actually built out of the civil rights movement. We think about the ways in which historically, black women have experienced, of course, harm at the hands of men, but also have experienced a deep amount of harm in relationship to white women, because of the ways in which as white women we're fighting for power, and trying to be, for example, in positions of power in relationship to white men. Often what happened was, white women perpetuated the same paradigms, of patriarchy, of colonialism, and of racism.

And so black women are at the mercy of that. And what happens when a black woman, for example, says to a white woman, hey, when you said that thing that was really harmful, and a white woman bursts into tears, we have to understand that historically those tears could result in black life, a black person being lynched, dying, being incarcerated, being in prison. We saw that in Central Park with the white woman. I'm forgetting her name right now, Amy Cooper, and Amy Cooper and the ways in which she knew that she could weaponize her tears and her sense of seemingly white fragility, in order to incarcerate, or in order to position herself as frail and as innocent. And so I think it's important for us to understand that, you know, black women are often masculinized. Black women are often seen as criminal, as angry, as aggressive and white women are often presented and positioned as innocent and sweet, and to be cared for and to be safe.

And we think about policing - policing is developed in order to protect white families, from black and indigenous and racialized families and to keep their community safe. So it's very complex. And it's complex, but then when we come into a boardroom, or we come into a parent council meeting, where we come into these spaces together, all of those complexities and nuances, and that behavior shows up in the ways in which black women's voices are silenced.

Ariana deVries

Yeah. And you're a mom, right? So you're raising a son in this experience of the world. And that's going to be very different than me raising my son with his experience of the world. And how are you teaching your son to carry himself and to be proud of his heritage? And to be proud of who he is and to be the full embodiment of his self while also learning how to be in the world and what it means when something happens, or he's confronted by somebody, and learning from your experience just like you learned from the experiences of your mom, and that carried on into your understanding of the world too. Yeah, how are you fostering that for your son?

Selam Debs

Mm hmm. Well, you know what I've never had, I've never had the privilege to not have to foster that into my son. You know, from the minute that he was born, there was a sense of hyper safety that I had for him. And then as he got older, and you know, I remember when he was four years old, and he said to me, "Mommy, I wish you didn't call me Jaleel. I wish you'd called me Zach. Mommy, I wish my skin was white. I wish it wasn't black or brown. Mommy, I wish my hair was straight, like my white friends instead of, you know, curly."

And so I think it's important for us to understand that I've never had the privilege to not educate him. I've had to instill that into him. For him to learn embodied self love and integrity and dignity, but also for his survival that he needed to understand the way systems work and the ways in which people judged him and stereotyped him and looked at him. I had to deal with that in the school system, dealing with teachers who tried to criminalize him and tried to make him seem as aggressive. I had to do that with speaking out and advocating to principals. And you know, really going to really far lengths in order to keep him protected and safe. And as he gets older, I've had to deal with, you know, him dealing with non black youth asking him for n-word passes, and using derogatory slurs towards him. And as he gets older, now, he's 16, he's going to start driving, which should be an exciting time, to have to deal with the fear and the worry, and the hyper vigilance that I have to teach him for his survival, and what he needs to do when he is out and driving, and how he has to interact with police in order for him to come home safely.

Because I've experienced that. I've experienced what it feels like to be thrown against a police car, handcuffed, face down and watch another black person in front of me who was with me, thrown to the ground with six police officers on their back. And be violently attacked and go to jail for doing nothing. So I think, you know, it's important for us to understand that it's real. The impacts and ways in which we have to be hyper vigilant for our babies are really real, the ways in which black children are adultified and seen as older than they are and treated as different. And I have to remind the world that he's still my little boy, and have to constantly ensure that. Yeah, it's a lot. I would say that our dinner table conversations are different than white folks dinner conversations.

Ariana deVries

Yeah.

Selam Debs

Since he was young, like we talk about politics, we talk about the world, we talk about feminism, we talk about how he can be emotionally intelligent. We talk about all the things, and he doesn't have the privilege to be mediocre, that he has to work 10 times harder than his peers in order for him to really truly succeed in society.

Ariana deVries

Yeah. And that just makes me think, like you said, he has to work really hard to not be mediocre. And like, we have the privilege to do nothing as white people, as white folks. At our dinner tables, we have interesting conversations, but not with the levels of nuance and understanding that has to come for you. And my son is given life on a silver platter if he wants it to be and I have to be aware of our place. And I just can't even wrap my mind around how, how much this actually affects people beyond me sometimes. And how big these policies and systems are and how far they reach, and how many people they actually affect beyond just my kitchen table, and beyond my kid going to school, and one thing that he may say can have a ripple effect on so many others. It's a big responsibility, for me. I can only imagine what it is like for you, as a mom raising your son. And it sounds like you're doing a really good job.

Selam Debs

Well, he's annoyed with me for sure at times. This poor guy has to hear a whole lecture every single evening on, you know, on all the things.

Ariana deVries

Yeah.

Selam Debs

But I think you know, the opportunity for white parents is to really look at, you know - white parents always asked me, "how can I teach my children? What should I teach my children?" I mean, just teach them all the things, right. But white parents often protect their children from looking at race, from looking at racism. And that sense of protection, what it does, is it places my son in harm's way. It places other black, indigenous and racialized children in harm's way, because your white children, not your white children, but you know,

Ariana deVries

I get it.

Selam Debs

Your white children haven't been educated. They aren't having those conversations, aren't building that awareness. And so it's the responsibility of white parents to say, this is our work to do - to really raise anti-racist, and conscious white children. My hope is that Jaleel's white friends, if they go out and they hang out, and they want to do something (they're 16 and 17), that his white friend doesn't say, hey, let's go do this, you know, activity that could lead to police coming because he knows that my son could actually be imprisoned because of that. But most white kids don't know, which is why I have to really teach my son hypervigilance so that he can say to his white friends, no, I'm not doing that. Like he doesn't do the same things that his white friends do. He doesn't have access to the same things. He can't make mistakes like his white friends can. And so that awareness and that advocacy for other white children to sit in classrooms or in schools and say that's not okay, and to stand up is, you know, really the call to action for white parents.

Ariana deVries

Yeah, and I think there's so much value in being able to teach our kids to be empathetic. And to put themselves in the shoes of somebody else, to understand what it might be like to experience something different than what they have experienced previously. So, what questions do you wish people would ask you or perhaps stop asking you in regards to whiteness and white privilege and racism and anti-racism and all that?

Selam Debs

Well, I'll start with a question that I wish white people would stop asking is, "How do I teach my child? When's a good time to teach my child?" Well, I don't know, I started talking to my child from the minute he could talk about how to make sure that he can be safe and love himself in society.

I wish that white people would stop asking or speaking about the fact that they're scared and worried about making mistakes and saying the wrong thing. And, you know, really projecting a lot of that fragility on black, indigenous and racialized people to comfort them, as opposed to understanding that black, indigenous or racialized, people are not comfortable having conversations around race, and racism. It's not enjoyable for us. Like, I should be painting. I should be writing poetry, you know. But we're talking about racism, and inequities, in order to really advocate for humanity.

And it's actually not my job.

Yes, I'm an anti-racism educator, so people pay me to teach them absolutely. But it isn't my job to help you feel compelled to come to action. Like, if you truly believe that black, indigenous and racialized people are fully human beings, and are not the other and are full people that deserve dignity and belonging, and safety, and joy, then it should be a no brainer. Like, this is the work that I need to do in the world, because I care about humanity. And because, you know, none of us really are free, if all of us are aren't free. We all must be free, in order for there to be true freedom. And so, yeah, my hope is that white folks start to stop asking me how they can be an ally. Because the reality is that, you know, 'ally' really speaks to this idea that you're coming to help me, right?

Ariana deVries

Right.

Selam Debs

But Sonia Renee Taylor, an incredible activist, they say, "I don't want an ally, because an ally means you've come here to help me. How are you helping me solve the problem you caused? Why aren't I helping you solve the problem you caused? Why am I not the ally? And you're the actor? Why is blackness the responsibility holder and whiteness gets to be the helper?"

Ariana deVries

Wow. Yeah, that's so true. I've heard that quote said before, and every time I hear it, I'm just like, yes. I'm not meant to be the ally for you. I can support and I can love you. I can. I don't know. Like, it's not my job to do it for you.

Selam Debs

Yeah, but it's bigger than that. It's more about the fact that white people need to understand that you're not here to just eradicate racism, because racism makes it sound like it's this thing that's happening to black, indigenous and racialized people.

We're here to dismantle white supremacy.

Ariana deVries

Yes.

Selam Debs

And white supremacy impacts white people. And so when we think about why cis-hetero patriarchy, capitalism, ableism, one has to ask themselves, how am I benefiting from oppression? Is it ethical for me to continue to benefit from oppression? Do I want to be complicit with a system and with structures that perpetuate harm and violence? And so white folks need to look at how am I complicit in that and how can I make sure that that is Part of my life agenda and legends of really dismantling white supremacy.

Ariana deVries

Yeah, that's so good. As we bring us to a close very soon, thank you so much for what you've shared so far, I really appreciate you sharing your story. I really want to know, what is something that gives you hope for the future? And what is something that you love? And what is something that brings you great joy right now.

Selam Debs

Thank you. What gives me hope for the future is the empowering activism that I am seeing all across the stolen lands, the ways in which indigenous people are rising up the ways in which black and racialized communities are rising up the ways in which accomplices, and you know, community members are saying that this is my fight, too. I'm inspired by that.

I'm inspired by the ways in which the youth get it in many ways. Not all, let's be real. But there are a lot of youth that are really advocating for dismantling white supremacy, gender binaries, and really helping us think in a future with futuristic way that like centers equity, and is like decentering capitalism. So I'm really hopeful and really inspired by that.

And what do I love is the question, yes? I think what I am really loving right now is the awareness that I have, and the ways in which I'm able to see my trauma, my intergenerational trauma, the way I'm hearing so many parts of myself, and relationships with so many people, and the ways in which I'm starting to really root and like ground into who I am.

And watching my son, of course, grow I think, is what brings me the greatest joy - seeing him live out into wanting to become a film, going into film school. He wants to do it in a couple years when he goes to university. And he loves to create and develop and is just kind of this futuristic creator and really knows himself. That truly brings me deep joy.

Ariana deVries

Thank you so much. And I really just want to remember that no matter who we are, or where our story began, it is within our power to love and to be loved and to experience joy. And if there's anything that helps us to communicate with others, who we see as different from us may it be that we are all lovely, and that we all can be loved, and see each other as full humans. So thank you so much for sharing your time with us today. Thank you for chatting with me. And I wish you all the best in your work and in life and creating space for yourself and for what you love and for what you enjoy and watching your son grow. So yeah, thank you.

Selam Debs

Thank you so much for having me.