(and become part of the solution)

So, I haven’t read White Fragility yet, and I’m not sure how revolutionary or redundant my observations are about to be. But, I’ve been reflecting on my own awakening to systemic racism a lot lately as more people I know are beginning the journey. I think it’s true that white people have a very hard time talking about these issues productively, and I suspect that may be largely due to our misunderstanding of the term “racist.”

For many white Americans, the word “racist” has been reduced to something like a synonym for genocidal or inhumane, and definitely malicious. So, consequently, there is a very narrow range of behaviors and beliefs that we would consider “racist.” And, obviously, the last thing that we would ever want to be is racist. Admittedly, this definition of “racist,” which has been passed down to us culturally, does make a rather intimidating issue much more digestible. It’s a personal sin, not a societal problem. All I have to do to avoid being racist is to basically be a good person and care about others. As long as I don’t hate people of different skin colors or wish them harm, then I am exonerated. It doesn’t require anything more of me, apart from maybe the need to stand up to someone on the very rare chance that I would actually witness someone harming someone else due to their skin color. This possibility is easily avoided because such behavior isn’t leveled at me, and generally speaking doesn’t happen openly in the communities where I live and work.

On the other hand, though, having such a narrow and extreme definition of “racist” also makes it nearly impossible to have any effective discussion of racism without being on high alert for accusations that I might be racist. It also causes me to rally to the defense of anyone else accused of being racist if there could be any other possible explanation–even if I don’t even know said accused person.

To be fair, most of us had very unproductive first experiences with discussing racism My own happened at the very evolved and rational age of middle school–in confrontations with my peers, while we were both the most self-conscious we will ever be in our lives and the most sensitive to our peers’ opinions of us. I still vividly recall that conversation in the locker room before PE class (always an emotionally safe space for highly self-conscious, middle school girls). Three of four of the black girls in my class said to me seemingly out of nowhere that they bet I was a racist. I, of course, denied this vehemently. They proceeded to prove their hypothesis by asking what kind of music I thought they liked. I thought this was a pretty silly question given that they had spent the locker room time every day for the past several weeks reciting lyrics to Kris Kross, backbeats and all. So, I replied with the obvious–rap. “See?! You are racist!” they eagerly declared. “You assumed that we like rap just because we’re black! That’s a racist stereotype!” Totally befuddled, I explained that I did not assume anything. I was simply observing what they sang and listened to all the time, but they were too busy congratulating themselves on outing a hidden racist to hear me. Needless to say, there were not any budding friendships or productive discussions between myself and these girls between then and graduation five years later.

Looking back on that incident, I realize that a predominantly white, private school was probably not the ideal setting for being a self-conscious black student starting to develop one’s own sense of identity and wrestling with the concepts of race relations and hidden hostilities in society against your culture. But, needless to say, the sting of that moment (and the unfairness of it) left an impression on me. Maybe several.

Impression #1: Talking about race is always a trap. Don’t say anything!

Impression #2: It doesn’t matter what your actual thoughts or feelings are. They will get twisted into meaning you’re a racist and relationships will be lost. (Ok, I guess that’s really the same impression.)

While I’m sure not every white American has been put on trial in the middle school locker room, I expect we can all point back to some similarly jarring experience. These experiences unfortunately confirm our misguided definition of “racist” and consequently prevent us from confronting the much larger and much more insidious beast of racism that has kept black people under oppression in one form or another for all of American history.

Which brings me to what I have discovered to be the turning point for my own awakening: redefining “racist.” I went into every conversation about race thinking the conversation was about individual hearts and intent, and judging those hearts and intents. “Systemic racism” usually sounded like conspiracy theories to me because I was hearing it through this definition and it seemed ludicrous that entire systems of people nationwide were all acting with malicious intent on things as mundane as where grocery stores are built. (I know, I know, hold your laughter.) This is because my premise was that racism is all about individuals and their conscious desires and thoughts. That’s not what the conversation is about at all! Well, not the majority of the time, anyway. So, this was my “aha moment”: Labeling something as “racist” does NOT necessarily mean there was personal, malicious intent behind it or that it was rooted in hatred!

Racist actually means something much more like “consciously or unconsciously based on historical events, beliefs, and/or narratives about race in a society that subjugated a particular race of people.”

So, here’s the good news: The conversation is not about you! It’s not about trying and convicting you for being a big, bad racist. Phew!

Here’s the bad news (and I must warn you this hits much faster and much harder than the good news): The problem is so much bigger, so much more prolific, so much more universal, and so much more damaging than what you thought. Realizing that every black person you have ever known or cared about or been in close relationship with has experienced race hostility and aggression first-hand that you never knew about because they never shared it with you? Discovering that the justice system isn’t always just and doesn’t even follow it’s own laws far too frequently for comfort? Learning about atrocities that have happened or are still happening for which people go completely unpunished? The process of getting “woke” is something akin to living your life in a movie only to realize it is actually a horror film and you’ve been blind to the carnage.

We live in a country that kidnapped and bought black people as property to bring back and sell for profit here in America. We systematically dehumanized these slaves in pretty much every possible way for generations–generations of people never allowed to have a stable family unit, a safe place to lay their heads, a better future to work for, control of their own bodies, etc. Most of us are aware of that part of our history. We would be naive, if not insane, to assume that our own perspectives, our current institutions and systems, our entire society somehow does not bear the marks of that history. However, it didn’t end with the Civil War, or even the Civil Rights Movement. There is SO MUCH of our history that we, as white Americans, have never been taught. Everything from leased prison labor after the Civil War, to slave ships arriving after the Civil War illegally, to redlining by banks that created the “inner cities” and all the plights associated with them, to forced medical experimentation that has contributed to healthcare access disparities, to lynchings sponsored with Sunday picnics as social events, and making “crack” possession penalties astronomically harsher than “cocaine” possession penalties. There is SO MUCH history in all of our social structures and institutions regarding race.

So, here is our challenge as white Americans: It is to become educated about the history we have not been taught. It is to question the sources of our own perspectives and assumptions, to research how and why the present realities we take for granted came about. This is a challenge that does not appear to have a bottom or an end, as far as I can tell. Every time I think I am starting to get the shape and scope of it, I stumble upon something else that I never even conceived of and am utterly shocked by. In personal conversations, I occasionally make assumptions, conclusions, or connections that are “racist.” Not in the sense that I intend to stereotype or that I don’t sincerely care about the person I am talking to or about. But, in the sense that I am a product of my society and I do not know or realize all the ways that history influences my mind. That does not make me a racist. It makes me a human being who exists in history, as a part of a particular society and culture. None of us are blank slates. Even if we entered the world that way (which my faith tells me we did not), where that slate landed and who started writing on it first and how you were taught to carry it, is going to determine what you know and what you don’t know, and what you think about all that. We are all going to have racist assumptions or expectations or stereotypes–many of which we probably aren’t even aware of or don’t see as racist b/c we don’t know the historical context that created them. Until we can accept that about ourselves, we will never be able to comfortably or productively engage in the “race conversation.”

In conclusion, you do not have to be a racist to have someone point out to you that your words or ideas have racist roots. In fact, if someone is actually pointing that out to you (assuming they are not cussing you out or throwing things at you simultaneously), chances are pretty good they don’t think you’re a racist either. Otherwise, they wouldn’t risk broaching the conversation. Rejoice! And be glad that people love you enough to help you grow! And never stop asking more questions. We do not know what we don’t know. And there is a heck of a lot we don’t know!