Dear Duke City

Dear Albuquerque,

May I call you “Duke” like the others do? I’ve been speaking with some of my fellow residents and there are some things we would like to discuss with you.

It hurts me to say, I’d only been in New Mexico a week before I knew you were no better than the white liberal “progressive” bastions on the east coast; I’d thought of you as a step forward, perhaps idealized the way you framed a promise you have no intention or capacity to uphold; confronted almost daily with citizens of yours who don’t want me—in my dark skin—living here.

I learned pretty quickly that I was alone;I feel like I am, every day, advocating for racial equity, from where I work to where I live.

I think there are always going to be people...who prefer to stick to the status quo...and a lot of times that means sticking to the past…and that can include a lot of its bad parts; the reason we keep having this conversation—the reason you still haven’t “showed up” is because there needs to be a real desire to take large and meaningful steps toward equity on every level, but that desire feels missing. But maybe I’m getting ahead of myself; you’re not listening anyway.

Let’s face it: you don’t have the best track record, Duke.

You let your police wear “Blue Lives Matter” face masks in neighborhoods where residents have been terrorized by countless forms of state violence; we say, “Black Lives Matter”; you say “Crime Matters More”; this is not a vision of racial equity. Your lawmakers—citywide and statewide—tell the Black community hey, wait, you can’t just protect yourself, you can’t just protect your people, you have to also think about other groups in New Mexico because they are more important than the thing you’re trying to do.

If we’re being honest, Duke, I believe you don’t actually care about the “minorities” within your majority-minority; your own citizens say you hire one or two of us in a job and think you’re making a change; you care more about the specter of solidarity and diversity than you do the equity of those least visible; I hear [white] people say to [Black people], “[you’re only] 2% [of our population]; that’s statistically insignificant”—plus I’ve heard this from lawmakers and from people in high-up positions and institutions that are supposed to advocate for all people.

It’s easy for people to feel protected when they’ve never been or considered themselves to be part of a marginalized class; Duke, don’t forget Minorities are not all accepting of one another. Just because New Mexico is [a] mostly Hispanic minority doesn’t mean all Hispanics are accepting of all other minorities [Hispanic or otherwise], or even that those who identify as Hispanic here consider themselves minorities.

And let’s talk about what you mean by “minority”: my skin is brown according to Crayola but you call me Black; you attack me because of my “color” while consuming my culture; disapproving security guards follow me through stores while our music blares from its speakers; cognitive dissonance, both consumption and animosity; you do the same to the people whose land you’re illegally occupying; you always have. I often hear communities of color say “Oh, our white people are better than the white people on the east coast because they’re surrounded by brown folks” but that’s not necessarily true and it is especially untrue for communities of color. 

Maybe things got out of hand for you, Duke; maybe you just couldn’t keep up with your population changes; maybe you grew bigger than you anticipated and closed yourself off to the opinions of outsiders. You want people like me to come work here, but not critique your lack of hospitality; earn you capital and pay you taxes, but not expect a return.

Those I spoke with admit that dedicated individuals can create opportunities for themselves here but no one discusses the failure of that conceit—that these opportunities are mostly available to people who aren’t Black. I don’t think anti-Blackness can change in our city until we dispel this myth of the Hispanic identity—Hispanic, High-Spanic, whiteness identity—and really tell the story of why we told Congress that these people were white…I think we have to start there and then talk about how that has intersected with Blackness and talk about how that would make more of the larger New Mexico community more empathic and willing to listen to the needs of our Black community; until anti-Black racism is abolished, any other racial equity practices that advance the interests of other non-white people will be short-lived. Unfortunately, I don’t think this will ever happen because history shows that when white people have an opportunity to employ an ethic of sharing, they return to a strange nostalgia; and how has this nostalgia, stubborn and unflinching, corroded the soul of this city—one that values statues over human life?

Why do you think yourself exempt from national conversations about race and equity and justice? Let’s look at who is making the decisions here in Albuquerque; let’s look at the socioeconomic classes that they’re coming from. Do they really mirror the people that are living here? Do they even remotely look like the people that live here? They do not. Duke, baby, when will you acknowledge that when you say Spanish or Hispanic, you mean white? You use Hispanic often but don’t count your Afro-Cuban and Mexican citizens—your Spanish-Indigenous citizens—in this category; it’s because what you say and what you mean are two different things.

Yet you treated me as alien, as though Esteban hadn’t guided the Spanish into these territories; you pitted “Black” and “brown” and “red” against each other with every Buffalo Soldier exhibit; every “redistricting” measure; every omission of Blackdom and Black conquistadors in your textbooks; every time you forced “mixed race” children to define themselves by filling out a singular race box on enrollment forms while your teachers plotted to suspend them.

If the city is multicultural and equitable already, why do the police intentionally traffic the homeless to the resource-strapped “War Zone”? Why is prison your solution for Black children with “nowhere to go”? When I go to the Children Youth & Families Department and ask “Why didn’t you place that Black kid with a Black family?” You say “Well, we don’t have any.” “Well, yeah, actually, you do. I know five families in your system that haven’t gotten a call for a kid in two years since they got approved.” New Mexico is 50th, dead last, for child well-being. of the few who do receive state and city resources toward education and other services, the parents of darker brown-skinned children get fewer resources.

What is racial equity to you, Duke? Do you know what it is to your citizens? The desired result of adjustments to policy, law, financial structures, culture, etc., with the specific intent to level the playing field between the privileged race and those who have been historically disenfranchised; so, equity, to me, means we are all working on the same playing field regardless of skin color, creed; Institutions adjusting to create equal systematic opportunities for people whose experiences who have been shaped by race; equity is making the opportunities that are available the same for everyone…reallocating funds…redistributing resources…tearing down those racial barriers that harm marginalized people; No matter what your background is, where you come from, how many cultures are a part of your history, we all have equal opportunities, knowledge; representation in the workplace, classroom, etc.; there should be someplace for every individual to go to; Racial equity is also tied to individual feelings of racism…because systems have been created a certain way.

Maybe you agree with all of these definitions, Duke, but however much you agree and aspire, you must also acknowledge that these definitions do not define your current state, and you must reckon with the fact that you have much work to do. Certainly you aren’t alone in the work of racial equity, but you have to reconcile the fact that there are residents of this city who not only desire to see racial equity come to fruition in Albuquerque, but for the sake of their lives and wellbeing, need it to be the reality.

Racial equity looks like broadened access, even where and when it makes people uncomfortable—and people are going to have to be uncomfortable because racial equity means prioritizing Black and Ethnic studies at Hispanic-serving institutions; racial equity means more than hiring an African American liaison to the city; racial equity means actually acting on the demands and expectations of people of African descent crying out, every day, for meaningful change; racial equity means giving land and water back to the people of the Pueblos to whom you, Duke, actually belong.

When—and only when—we can accomplish these things and engage this city and this community equitably by race, can a new story be told, where everyone will benefit from the change.

The time is overdue, Duke; you must act.
Sincerely,
Us.