for white people (Page 3)

Surely most of you by now have seen the footage of the White woman in Central Park calling the police on the Black man who asked her to follow the law and put her dog on its leash. We White women have a long history of getting Black people killed. I won’t write much about that here, but that’s a truth we White women need to face.

I want to share with you (my fellow White women) one small aspect of anti-racism work I’m doing in response to this latest example of White women putting the lives of Black people in danger. I’m noticing how I feel, in my body and mind, when I think of that woman and her reprehensible behavior. I’m noticing the draw to distance myself from her; I find myself wanting to focus on the fact that I’m not like that.

Digging deeper — and I’m noticing feelings of shame as I write this, knowing it’s ugly and I’m sharing it publicly — I also find I’ve had brief flashes of “I wonder if she’s mentally ill, perhaps we should have compassion” or other excuses.

I’m relieved to be able to say honestly that these pulls towards racism (excusing her racist behavior) are only flickers. Barely milliseconds, more of a whiff rather than long inhales of scent. I’m almost entirely centered and clear about the truth: this White woman responded to a Black man’s request with violence; she was entirely in the wrong.

But, as a White woman, it’s been my experience that one of the most powerful ways I can be a better human being is to interrogate the full experience in my body and mind when I consider other White people’s overtly racist behavior. Do I look for excuses? Do I “other” the White person so I can feel less a part of the problem?

The reason I want to notice these tendencies in me is that it is whiteness, the support of white supremacy, wants to keep me (a White woman) comfortable. It wants me to feel like the problems aren’t so bad. It wants to soothe me when I’m faced with racism so I don’t get too upset about it (which might lead me to wanting to change it). Whiteness is a seductive opiate-like drug.

This noticing is just one part of anti-racist lens I use to live my life (to be clear: I try to live my life through that lens, I never do it perfectly). But, I’ve found it emotionally, physically, intellectually, and spiritually freeing. I’ve been able to get more active in anti-racist work since I’ve incorporated this noticing into my everyday life.

I look for ugly truths in myself. I listen to myself, I feel my body’s response. And, these days, I simply notice them and let them go. I know those tendencies are my addiction to whiteness rearing its devious head, wanting me to not continue working in solidarity with other people on the paths to liberation for everyone.

Getting to the point where I simply notice and let them go has required some years of practice and study, learning from Black, Indigenous, and other People of Color how our systems in the USA are built on racism and how I benefit from the systems. Noticing what’s really happening in my mind and body has been one of the most important steps in bringing anti-racism into my daily life.

As Rev. angel Kyodo williams says: “”love and justice are not two. without inner change, there can be no outer change; without collective change, no change matters.”

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If you are interested in Buddhist ideas, I recommend highly Rev. angel’s Radical Dharma. It’s through Rev. angel that I got clear about the racist junk in my mind/heart’s closet that I needed to clear away.

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* I usually capitalize White just like Black is typically capitalized, following the lead of some Black people I’ve read online. These are socially constructed labels, and it seems right to treat them the same. On the other hand, I don’t capitalize “whiteness” or “white supremacy” because that doesn’t feel quite right. I’m not exactly sure why I’ve made these choices. There’s not a standard consensus about how to do this, though, so if you are not White and have feedback about it, I’d be grateful if you’d share it. If you are White and have feedback that you’ve learned from BIPOC, I’d love to hear that, too. (Thank you!)

“All Whites Are Racist!” screamed giant red letters on the yellow banner in the student center. It didn’t say much more than that, except to come to the theater at a certain time that day. I was outraged and I wondered what in the heck was going on, after all, that was total nonsense — I wasn’t racist and neither were my friends. We were good people, not scummy ignorant bigots. How dare someone imply otherwise?

What followed was a workshop with a man named Tony Harris. I don’t remember many details of the workshop but I walked out of there with a deeper understanding of my own racism and the impact it had on my life. Mr. Harris showed me that our tendency in looking at racism is to see how it negatively affects non-caucasians, when, in fact, caucasians are suffering great emotional pain because of racism, too. The workshop wasn’t a touchy-feely, “oh you white people have it so bad” kind of thing, but rather it was an experience that revealed painful truths: no matter our intentions, we white people are racist.

Defining “racist” must go beyond a dictionary definition. The way we use the term “racism” in this country is not simply “making decisions based on race.” The term “racism” as it is used today is about oppression and power. I define racism as “people with power oppressing people with less power, based on their apparent race.” Of course there are exceptions to “all whites are racist” but it is for the most part a true statement and the exceptions are fewer than most people like to think.

We white people grow up with advantages born unto us. For example, we are less likely to get stopped by the police and more likely to be hired for a job. Whether we like it or not, we have more power than people with darker skin. Because we have advantages based on our skin color, we are participating in a racist system and are therefore racist ourselves.

Through our families, through the media, through implicit and over messages we are taught stereotypes about people who aren’t white. Because we believe these stereotypes on some level, we’re afraid. Because we are afraid, we avoid people who don’t look like us so we can avoid feeling uncomfortable. Because we avoid people who don’t look like us, we have no opportunity to disprove the stereotypes we are taught.

Additionally, because so many of us are good, well-intentioned people, we feel guilty for our position, for our advantage, and for our country’s history of oppression. Because we feel guilty is one more reason we avoid anyone who isn’t white, so we don’t have to feel uncomfortable — so we can pretend it isn’t so.

Given this premise: all us white folks are racist, what can we do about it?

I have some ideas how on an individual level we can work towards breaking the bonds that have been holding us all down in this racist society.

I think of where I have lived. When I lived in a white suburban area of town I had rare occasion to interact with a non-white person. I had no idea the impact this had on me until I moved to an area of town where most people have dark skin — at first, I was literally afraid! All logic was out the window, and I just felt nervous and guilty and I felt I stuck out like a sore thumb being so white.

Well, it’s been some time (this happens each time I move in and out of neighborhoods where there are more dark skinned people than light skinned) and I love where I live. I no longer feel nervous and I no longer feel guilty most of the time. I haven’t escaped my racist background, but simple proximity to people who don’t look like me helps me recognize my biases and move beyond them.

Another thing I suggest is for you (if you’re white) is to be the minority for a while. Go to a bar filled with mostly Asian people, go to a Hispanic neighborhood association meeting, or go to a black church where you are one of the only white people around. The experience is terrifying and shocking when you realize this is what it must be like for so many dark skinned people in “your world” when they “visit.” It also helps to bring yourself into the reality that there is no “one” black person, Asian person, Latino person — among the darker skinned people there are tremendous varieties. There are fat and skinny, there are poor and wealthy, there are sloppy and neat.

It seems sad to suggest such things as “get next to a darker skinned person to get over your fear and your guilt” — it would be nice to believe that dialogue would be a first step. I think living in the same worlds is the first step, and I think it’s up to those of us who have the most power (the white people) to recognize our advantages and use our power to help make changes. We can choose to live in “black/Asian/Latino neighborhoods,” we can choose to attend churches and temples where not only white people worship, we can simply shop in supermarkets where not only white people shop. We can live our lives with conscious thought and with intent.

Since I don’t believe we can ever be entirely free of our racism as white people I believe educating our children is the most vital step we can take to changing our world. It’s our responsibility to guarantee our children grow up next door to people who don’t look like themselves, that they sit at school desks and work on homework assignments with children who don’t look just the same, and it is our responsibility that they are exposed to the richness and variety of the world’s cultures rather than just the white culture around them.

All whites may be racist, but it’s true that the children are our future and it’s up to us to teach them.

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Here’s a link to some information about Tony Harris, he’s connected on this website to a “show” called “American Pictures” which looks quite interesting, the site itself is well done:
http://www.american-pictures.com/english/show/tony.htm

Note: This essay was first published on my website in 1999.