What's my motive and why am I suspicious of it?

Sweet Hubby and I alternate which one of us gets to decide what movie or series to watch when we settle in at night.  Last night was my turn, and for some reason, I really wanted to see a documentary chronicling the history of racism in this country.  And I found myself wondering: why do I want to watch this?

I know racism exists, was actually written into this country's Constitution because it was written by slave owners.  I know it's rampant still, and appalling and disgusting and wrong.  I am aware of many of the cruelties inflicted by racists, past and present, the vast majority of whom suffer no consequences.  So what was I hoping to get from watching this documentary?

Did I want to gawk at all that unspeakable cruelty, the way drivers gawk at even the most minor car accidents?

Did I want to be informed?  Certainly there is a lot more for me to learn, but nothing that could make me more sad or angry or horrified than I already am.

Did I want to test myself, check myself out for my own unrecognized prejudices?

Did I want to feel just and righteous, as though I have proved something about my virtuous character by watching it?  To feel superior to those people who stand under a lynched person with smiles on their faces?

Did I want to feel inspired to action?  But to what action?  What am I supposed to do?

Maybe I just want to understand, on the most visceral level possible, this horrible disease which infects my country down to its very bones and nerves and cells.  I don't know.  A lot to think about.  I wish I were braver.