[Last week we explored allied relationships on Love Isn't Enough. As promised, here is the final post in the series. Here, Julia tackles what it means for a white person to be anti-racist--an ally to people of color. As with the previous posts in this series, many of the ideas have broader implications. We are ALL, hopefully, allies to some group of marginalized peoples. In comments, we would love to hear how you teach your children to be good allies. How do we ensure young children grow up to be anti-racist...anti-sexist...anti-injustice...and supportive of members of marginalized groups outside of their own? What would you add to Julia's list?]
written by Love Isn’t Enough contributor Julia
Broaden your definition of racism
What are we talking about when we talk about racism? Generally, we’re not talking about people in white hoods burning crosses. The KKK is an example of racism, to be sure, but to think of racism ONLY in these terms is to ignore the other types of racism that are perhaps more pervasive in our current society, and are—make no mistake—just as damaging. If we fail to acknowledge the day-in day-out racism that people of color live and breathe, we not only invalidate the experience of people of color but also miss opportunities to catch ourselves and others committing this sort of racism. And if we don’t know it’s happening, how can we stop it?
Most of the time, when we talk about racism we are talking about institutional racism, a system of privilege based on race that “pervades, permeates, and interconnects all major social groups, networks, and institutions across the society” (Feagin, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Racism#Sociological) microagressions (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Microaggression) that reinforce racist hierarchies It’s worth noting that both of these forms of racism are often committed UNCONSCIOUSLY by people WITH GOOD INTENTIONS. People like me. People like you.
Acknowledge how racism has shaped you.
Author Beverly Tatum has compared racism to a smog that we all breathe in whether we want to or not. All of us—no matter how well-intentioned—have been polluted to some degree by this smog. It shapes our thinking and our actions, often unconsciously, even if we don’t want it to. A critical step in becoming an ally is accepting that our thinking and our actions—despite our best intentions—are often influenced by racism. We can’t work as allies in the struggle against racism unless we acknowledge that we are part of the problem. Once we acknowledge that, we can begin to explore how we contribute to the problem and what we might do to stop.
Acknowledge your white privilege.
White privilege refers to all of the benefits we get just for being white. Most of us begin this journey with little awareness of our privilege, partly because we are so used to having the benefits that come with being white that we don’t even realize that we have them. But we also aren’t aware of our privilege because the system has encouraged us not to be. Peggy McIntosh, in her famous essay on white privilege, describes this phenomenon: “As a white person, I realized I had been taught about racism as something that puts others at a disadvantage, but had been taught not to see one of its corollary aspects, white privilege, which puts me at an advantage.” Like McIntosh, I think many of us are aware of how racism hurts others, but not aware of how it benefits us. Without acknowledging the privilege we hold, we can’t truly begin to understand the experience of people of color. Nor can we contribute in any meaningful way to ending racism if we don’t acknowledge that the deck is heavily stacked in our favor.
Accept your limitations
Part of white privilege is the privilege of being oblivious to racism, unaware of how it manifests, how it feels, who it hurts. White people can learn to become less oblivious, but we will never have the lived experience of people of color. People of color are experts on racism; white people are not. No amount of reading or learning or activism will get us there. And that can be a hard pill to swallow in a society that teaches us that we can be anything, do anything. To be an ally, you will need to practice being okay with not being the expert, not being sure of the answer, not ever getting to some point where you have magically arrived. This requires considerable humility.
Get comfortable with humility
The more you learn about racism and privilege, the more you’ll realize how little you know, and how many times you have been wrong in the past or done something you now think is dreadful. Enter conversations about race conscious of how little you know. All that not-knowing leaves room for you to learn, and listen, and grow. And it’s a way of giving up power, which we white people tend to have way too much of.
Share power.
One of the things we white people get via white privilege is power. Being humble about how little we know is one way of giving up some of that power. We can also give up power by ceding the floor to people of color, granting authority to people of color by taking their ideas seriously, hiring and promoting people of color in the workplace, …
Educate yourself.
It’s not your fault that you probably have some big holes in your knowledge. Various social forces have conspired to make you that way. But now that you’re aware of the holes, it IS your responsibility to begin filling them in. It is not the responsibility of anyone else—particularly not people of color—to teach you.
So, how might you go about educating yourself? First, read. Read, read, read, and read some more. There are tons of good blogs and tons of good books out there(see “resources” at end of post). Second, engage in productive conversations about race. Do this in person, and do this on the web.
Recognize that it’s not about you.
If you engage as an ally in conversations about race, you are going to hear some extremely unflattering things about yourself and about white people in general. Try your best not to take it personally; it’s really not about you. It’s about the larger system of racism that a white person has just (often unwittingly) enacted in her behavior or speech. If you get caught up in your own hurt and sense of injury, you stop listening, and when you stop listening, you stop being an ally. Concentrating on your injury is also a way that white privilege sneakily encourages you to value your own experience over the experience of people of color. But don’t let it. Because what you’ve just experienced—painful as it is—is small potatoes compared to the numerous slights and hurts that people of color experience all the time. Furthermore, there’s nothing more deadly to a productive conversation about race than a white person who wants their personal hurt taken care of, particularly if people of color are being asked to do the caretaking.
Listen to people of color and accept their truth.
If you really want to learn about racism, listen to the experts: people of color. And when you listen, really LISTEN. Focus on that person’s experience, not on your own, and accept that what this person is saying is what is TRUE FOR THEM. Respond by asking questions that help you understand THEIR EXPERIENCE better. Do not discount their experience or question its legitimacy. Do not attempt to change the subject from racism to something else by using common derailing techniques (http://www.derailingfordummies.com/). Accept that the experience of people of color may be different than your own, but that their experience is no less legitimate.
Accept that effect counts more than intention.
Sooner or later, you will say or do something racist. Probably you will not mean to. But what you must understand is this: it was racist, whether you meant it to be or not, and people of color have been hurt. That hurt does not magically disappear when they learn that you didn’t mean it. So, if you misstep, apologize. If, instead, you mount a “but I didn’t mean it” defense—and you will be tempted to—you are failing to acknowledge the very real pain you caused people of color. That is not ally behavior.
Speak up and do your part.
Too often, white people leave the job of speaking out against racism to people of color. But that is unfair. We cannot think of ourselves as allies if we are not willing to do a good part of the heavy lifting. As the author of a popular blog on race has written, “As people granted unearned privileges by our own whiteness, and as people who have likely harmed non-white people with our own whiteness, it’s our moral and ethical duty to find ways to combat racism” (http://stuffwhitepeopledo.blogspot.com/2009/12/ask-non-white-people-how-to-fight.html). Being an ally means being intolerant of racism in all of its forms. It means speaking up and speaking out. It means taking issue with racist jokes. It means calling people on their racism. It means educating. It means a willingness to be uncomfortable and, sometimes, unpopular.
Resources:
Racism 101 for Clueless White People, by a Somewhat Less Clueless White Person http://stuffwhitepeopledo.blogspot.com/2009/08/wonder-where-to-start-when-they-join.html
Checklist for allies against racism: http://johnraible.files.wordpress.com/2007/05/revised-2009-checklist-for-allies.pdf
Unpacking the invisible knapsack: http://www.case.edu/president/aaction/UnpackingTheKnapsack.pdf
Books:
Tim Wise, “White like me”
Bevery Tatum, “Why are all the black kids sitting together in the cafeteria”
I really appreciate this, Julia! In particular, “Accept that effect counts more than intention” and “Get comfortable with humility” have been central in my experiences on both sides of the ally issue.
Well done. Probably one of the best discourses on this topic I’ve read.
One of the greatest points in my personal growth in all arenas is the “it’s not about me” concept. It allows me to just “be” in whatever circumstance I’m in. It allows me to be a better listener and more sensitive to the needs of others around me. It allows me to get out of my own way.
I really appreciated your commentary about listening. It’s imperative in communicating and it is a crucial part of participating in dialogue. Listening is hard work and I think we do a lot of hard work quietly, so it is important to work on actively listening. Thanks for that.
I also wanted to thank you about encouraging people to do the work they need to know on their own and take responsibility for that and hold themselves accountable, not anyone else. My homegirl and Racialicious correspondent AJ uses the phrase “reach and teach” for this interaction where people expect others to teach them something they can find on their own with some work/research. Asking questions is one thing, expecting people to answer your questions simply because you asked (in a “nice way”) is problematic.
I’d also like to make a statement about the use of the ideologies that focus on “race neutrality” that are becoming popular (aka “colorblind racism” which is an ableist term that I do not use unless in direct quotes). One of the texts that really brought it home for me was Eduardo Bonilla-Silva’s “Racism Without Racists” and not only how it is alright to recognize someone’s race or any other difference, but that ignoring them or claiming you “don’t see them” is doing more harm than good. To have someone look at me and tell me they do not see my gender identity and expression, my ethnic identity through phenotype and characteristics (to name a few) is not seeing all of me and thus omitting a huge part of who I am and how I live and survive in this world. Yes, we are more than “just our race” (and I believe those of us at LIE do value intersectionality) but that is a part of who we are especially living in the US where racial formation is very much a part of how we interact with people individually and institutionally.
Additional texts that have and continue to help me (and that I use when I teach) include:
The Miner’s Canary by Lani Guinier & Gerald Torres
After Race by Antonia Darder & Rodolfo Torres
Racial Formation in the US by Omi & Winant
Women of Color & the Reproductive Rights Movement (in the US) by Jennifer Nelson
Black Skin, White Mask by Frantz Fanon
Killing The Black Body by Dorothy Roberts
Changing Race by Clara Rodriguez
This is such a well organized and helpful resource itself. I will pass this along to others in my multi-racial adoptive parent network. We could use this as a starting point for a larger discussion on how to talk aboutlook at our own internalized racism (a goal of mine for 2010).
As a white adoptive parent of an African American five year old, and the parent of a bi-racial two year old, I am in a daily practice of confronting my own racism and the racism around us.
I find more and more that I feel marginalized-perhaps by choice? by growth? being around my all white friends and their kids. I am increasingly uncomfortable around their lack of non racist awareness. This article helps me see it is not their conscious behavior that is ever a problem, but their assumptions and lack of humility and awareness that is off putting to me.
I was a dinner party kind of thing the other night and realized in the room of all white people, mainly paired as well (of which I am not) that I felt ill at ease. I attributed it to the lack of diversity in the room, and how I have come to identify so strongly with my children’s background that I no longer see myself as white-white if such a thing is true. Then one woman said; “Well race is just a construct anyway. All intelligent people know that.” And I found myself flush with anger, and almost debilitated by her nonchalance. She had learned about that in college after all!
This piece feels like a manifesto in ways. Thank you for this .
@mamacandtheboys: I can see that you are coming from a place of wanting to learn and to understand more about the racism your children face, and how to help them deal with it.
I want to respectfully point out a couple of things that were problematic about your post. One is your use of the word ‘marginalized’ in reference to yourself. I’m not 100% clear on how you are using it, and I understand that you may feel marginalized as a mother of a multi-racial family, or as a woman, etc, but in the context of race,you will never be marginalized. Maybe I just need some more clarification in what you mean here.
The other thing that gets my ‘privilege-radar’ beeping, is your statement about “how I have come to identify so strongly with my children’s background that I no longer see myself as white-white if such a thing is true” Such a thing is not true. You are white. You walk through life as a white woman, and strongly identifying with your childrens’ background will never change that. You do not deal with racism, and you never will. You will never understand what it feels like to deal with racism everday, all day, your whole life.
Anyways – I totally get the point of your post – that you feel the need to educate others on matters of race and privilege, and that the more you become aware of these things, the more out-of-place you feel within your circle of friends. It is so difficult (but necessary) to address racism when you see/hear it, especially when friendships and family relationships are on the line.That ‘race is just a construct’ line really gets me going too -grrr. Can I ask how you responded? I’m always on the lookout for good lines to says in situations like that.
Wonderful post. I have learned so much from this blog! The part of this article about humility and accepting that no matter how much I learn that I will not be the expert was enlightening. You are helping this white mother to become a better ally for my daughter who is Chinese. Thanks.
@ Lindsay-thank you for your response. True,
I will never deal with racism as a non white woman. I agree with this. I have never dealt with racism directed at me alone.
I would like to respectfully disagree with you from a slightly different angle if you will allow:
I have and will continue to deal with racism on behalf of my family. I understand that there is a difference, and I understand that when my son is called a brownie at school, or not invited to a birthday party because of the bigoted views of the child’s parents. As I unpack that with him, confront the parent, and design a evening for the parents at the preschool with the director to help open dialogue about being anti racist parents, I am dealing with racism.
When the woman at the register in the childrens shoe department serves another white parent before me, even though I was clearly there first and then refuses to put a shoe on my son’s foot, I am dealing with racism.
When I can’t find a black Santa for 100 miles around, or one brown baby doll in the toy store, or one/100th of a selection of black hair products at the local grocery store, I am dealing with racism. I am still a white woman who will never know what it is like to be other. And, at the same time I am a woman who is raising two children of color, and because of that I am exposed to, and react to and therefor have experienced racism. Have I not? And, if I have not what would you call it? Racism by association? Familial racism? Racism one step removed?
What I mean about not feeling white-white is that my consciousness has shifted in a way that challenges my own understanding of whiteness. I feel less “white” then I did before adopting my son, and birthing my other. To me that means something. But I can see how it seems absurd from another point of view.
As far as addressing the woman I thought about it, and said “Look around. There is not one person of color in this room. If race was just a construct why are we all white?” She looked blankly at me. Then I said that statement is a statement that is meaningless, and if you woke up in my son’s body tomorrow, you would not be saying that by tomorrow night.” I went on to explain what he sees int eh story books every day, or how all of his teachers are white, or how I had to explain that he can still get sun burned…Or something like that. It was a poor response really, but I left shortly thereafter which probably had a larger impact. Or at least made everyone else happy!
With increasing humility and a willingness to be taken to task, Catherine
Re: “Race is just a construct.” Of course race is ‘just’ a social construct. So is gender. So is money. So is [insert any number of other things here!]. Something being a social construct makes it no less real or important.
Really great post.
And good additional book reccomendations, Bianca. There are some I hadn’t heard of before and I’ll definitely have to check them out, thanks!
Lindsay- Not to put words in someone elses mouth, but (translation: that is exactly what I am going to do) I think Mama C meant “marginalized” as in uncomfortable and not really fitting in with her friends, and many other white people. Not the best choice of words, but being a white person who has a problem with racism and is vocal and consistent about that can kind of alienate you from white people who would prefer to have their privilege go unchecked.
Also, about the “white-white” thing- I am white, I will always be white, but I am also the mother of a black child, and I think that because of that sometimes when I am calling something out as racist, other white people think I am being “paranoid,” “overreacting” “too sensitive” etc.. and I get the distict feeling that that they are saying this because my child and her father are black. I have heard white people use these same types of phrases (but much worse) to discredit people of color when they call out racism, so I am starting to think that some white people may view me as “white asterisks” meaning they know I am white, I know I’m white, we ALL know I am white, but they are still using the unexamined mental habit of racism to more easily ignore and dismiss what I am saying.
Does that make sense?
This is getting tangental, but brings up a really crazy point… often white people will only take racism seriously if it is brought up by a white person, who is assumed to be “more objective” even though that makes no sense and is kind of insane. Anyone else notice this? Or am I actually paranoid?
I think that some of the most effective ways I can use my white privilege are talking about racism and whiteness, listening, learning, and being open to learning and challenging my own beliefs.
Oh! About the race is a social construct, I have some (I think) good responses.
“Yes, race is a social construct. So is Tuesday.”
I think this is a good conversation starter, because you are not putting the other person on the defensive, you are just opening up a chance to discuss the incredible importance that social constructs play in our lives.
Renn, your comment wasn’t up yet when I posted, but I guess great minds think alike
Pingback: Fighting racism means ’speaking up,’ ’speaking out’ | A Conversation about Race | STLtoday
Julia, this is such a great post! I have so many people in my life that I want to read this.
@Lindsay, I hope this can be a place where we all come for support and learn from each other. Of course, @mamacandtheboys will always be white. But she is sharing from her personal experience of dealing with racism as a mom of a POC. It kind of seems like you want to shame her for that in your response? To tell her “You do not deal with racism”? I’m sorry, but when a child deals with racism, a mom deals with racism. Regardless of your own color, seeing your own child treated in a prejudiced way is a pain that overwhelms, and one we can all relate to. Wouldn’t it be nice for us to be able to come here and safely share about those feelings, without another person minimizing it? True, it is not the same thing as experiencing life as a POC, but I didn’t hear her say that. Perhaps I’m feeling defensive as she was just sharing from her point of view, and she’s already feeling like her friends don’t “get it”. This is a place where hopefully we can find people who “get it”. Let’s give each other support.
Katie @9 – great response.
MamaCandtheboys @4 – on being not “white-white” I think I get it. You are getting a new perspective. My mother (a black woman) experienced a new perspective on racism when my first brother started going to school and also when he began to enter puberty. This was different than what she’d experienced as a black woman and what she’d experienced with me (a black girl). But as my younger brothers got older, bigger, and became men, their struggles and specific difficulties caused her to realize that there was another dimension to racism that she had not really been privy to before.
@mamacandtheboys:
Thank you for writing so much more in depth about your thoughts and experiences. I think my word choice in ‘deal’ with racism was poor. I’ve been thinking about it a lot since reading your reply, and I think what I meant was ‘you don’t experience racism’ as opposed to ‘you don’t deal with racism’. I can definitely accept that you deal with racism, in the way that you describe, as a parent of a multi-racial family. But to say that you experience racism, in a direct and personal way, is just not true. I think that’s what you said at the beginning of your reply,so we can agree!
I think what you are experiencing as a parent to your children can’t be described as racism. I would describe it as experiencing the real and difficult challenges of being an ally to your children. You are supporting them as they negotiate a white supremacist world. You are jumping to their defense at every turn. You are trying to cushion them from some of the worst of it. In being an ally, you are also hurt, because these are your children and your partner we’re talking about! But it’s not racism you are experiencing (racism defined as including both institutional/systemic power and race privilege. You have both, your children have neither and that won’t change).
Being an ally/mother her to a family like yours is not something *I* have ever experienced, so I hope I’m hitting at least somewhere in the ballpark here.
What I mean about not feeling white-white is that my consciousness has shifted in a way that challenges my own understanding of whiteness.
This makes a lot of sense to me.
I thought about it, and said “Look around. There is not one person of color in this room. If race was just a construct why are we all white?” She looked blankly at me. Then I said that statement is a statement that is meaningless, and if you woke up in my son’s body tomorrow, you would not be saying that by tomorrow night.”
This! I’m so going to use this next time I hear that tired statement trotted out.
I really appreciate your taking the time to engage with me. It sounds like you are exactly the kind of mom your family needs.
@Kristen: No shame intended. I hope things make more sense from reading my reply above. In my books, support does not equal unquestioning acceptance everything anyone says from their personal experience. If I read something that I feel is coming from a place of white privilege, I am going to call it out, albeit respectfully – which is what I tried to do with @mamacandtheboys. It is my understanding that that is part of what this blog is about.
Ironic that I’m getting accused ‘shaming’ when identifying what I saw as white privilege, on a blog post about how to be a better while ally! Part of being supportive (and the kind of support I want in return!) is to call each other out when we say/do something that is racist or privileged.
This is such a great conversation. Thanks, all.
I just want to jump in to address Kristen’s comment, because I heard something a bit different than what she heard. I think when Lindsay talked about not experiencing racism (and correct me if I’m wrong, Lindsay) she was referring to this mamacandtheboys’ statement how I have come to identify so strongly with my children’s background that “I no longer see myself as white-white if such a thing is true.” This comment reminded me of something that white adoptive parents sometimes say, which goes something like “because I care so much about my [black] child, I feel like I’m black, too.” This is problematic, because although we may identify deeply with our children and go to battle for them all the time, we don’t lose our white privilege. To believe that you, as a white parent, experiences the same degree of racism as your child of color (or of any person of color) is to–unwittingly!–minimize their experience. I *think* that’s what Lindsay was getting at when she said this: “You will never understand what it feels like to deal with racism everday, all day, your whole life.”
mamacandtheboys,
I hope you don’t feel like I’m picking on you. I thought it was great that you were willing to respond to Lindsay so openly and honestly, and I thought your closing line was brilliant: “I think that some of the most effective ways I can use my white privilege are talking about racism and whiteness, listening, learning, and being open to learning and challenging my own beliefs.”
I also want to validate the experience of feeling different from other white parents. Recently, I’ve realized that it’s getting increasingly difficult for me to relate to many white friends because I spend so much time thinking and talking about race and they, well, don’t. It’s an odd feeling. Surely it’s up to us to begin engaging our white friends in these conversations, although I must confess that I’m still figuring out how to do that.
Finally, finally, thanks to Bianca for all of those book suggestions. Many are new to me as well and I look forward to digging into them. I also really appreciate your comment about race neutrality–in particular, how hurtful it is when white people say they don’t “see your color” etc.
This is a great post. The next time I find myself thinking about how I can enlighten someone, I will revisit to this post. Yes, I know I cannot enlighten anyone. They must do that themselves, but this post arms me with some thoughts, phrases, words that may propel someone to seek more information/discussion/research about race.
Oops, I guess Lindsay and I were writing at the same time! I really like this way of thinking about it “I would describe it as experiencing the real and difficult challenges of being an ally to your children. ”
And I agree that we have to be able to call eachother on our stuff and I thought Lindsay did it really respectfully, fully acknowledging that mamacandtheboys’ heart was in the right place.
@Julia – yes, exactly, thank you. You said it better than I did.
hsofia- thanks! I should say and write nice things like that more often, because it really made me happy.
To white people who claim to be color-blind:
I always say something like “oh that must be rough, they don’t even let you get a license if you have vision problems like that, right?” or “have you been to the doctor about that? maybe you need glasses.”
Sometimes I try to engage in a productive conversation after that. And sometimes I just keep it moving, because I can’t waste my time and sanity on every single ignorant person who opens their mouth.
And sometimes people outgrow their friends.
@ Lindsay-thank you for taking the time and thoughtfulness to engage with me too. Like you I have thought deeply about our exchange. I agree–that as an ally I am dealing with racism. I am not experiencing racism. I fully appreciate the semantic difference. I have a lifetime to appreciate the real difference.
Using the ally term so fully might also help me find more ways to engage friends/family on another layer. We’ll see. (BTW for what it’s worth, I do not have a partner, I am a choice mother who adopted one son, and who conceived the other via an African American donor. That is subject for another post!)
@ Julia–I do not feel picked on. However you have mixed up my quote with someone far more articulate than I (it was Katie) at one point in your response. Katie deserves your praise. But what I wish to clarify is that I am not in any way assuming or stating or claiming that I feel black too. And yet as a white adoptive parent I understand that kind of longing in ways to be the same as our children! I meant that a consciousness shift deepens in me every day that I grow from parenting my sons. White-white was written for emphasis–as in I know I am white–and yet as a thoughtful anti-racist transracial mother I see my whiteness in a new mirror which changes it’s hue perhaps in my eyes. Damn the poet in me. Celebrate the poet in me.
I have grown from this exchange. I value this community, and all of your posts.
mamacandtheboys and Katie,
apologies for the mix up.
mamacandtheboys,
for the record, i didn’t think that you were claiming to feel black, just that your comment raised that spectre. I really appreciate this: “White-white was written for emphasis–as in I know I am white–and yet as a thoughtful anti-racist transracial mother I see my whiteness in a new mirror which changes it’s hue perhaps in my eyes.” I think I know exactly what you mean.
Katie,
I love your response to “colorblind” comments. Very clever.
Thanks, all, for a great and respectful conversation.
Regarding the conversation between Lindsay and MamaC, etc, what MamaC described fits in with how Beverly Tatum talks about the development of racial identity in white people. I don’t have the book right in front of me, but going from memory she says some of the earliest steps involve an increasing awareness of what “whiteness” entails, including a sense of distance from other whites, and also a pressure by other whites to stop talking about race and reenter the “white” fold. So while MamaC may not have chosen the best words to talk about it, the phenomenon she is experiencing is actually typical for the devleopment of an anti-racist white identity.
One of the ways I seek to help my students challenge the dismissal/debunking of conversations about race by claiming it’s a social construct (I teach sociology so we talk about constructions all the time and I find when people say this about race it is because they do not think it is important and since it is constructed it can be destroyed so easily) is that even though race is a social construction, it is a social REALITY. I give students historical examples of how race was constructed (for all racial and ethnic groups in the US) and the reality that people survived such laws, experiences etc.
I also try to help them understand the connection of social constructions with being socialized. It’s a process. I think it is helpful for them as students to know that they were socialized in a particular way and there is a lot to unlearn or a lot that challenges that socialization and, well, isn’t that why they are in my class (and stay!). That they have a choice/agency and responsibility in what they are going to believe/support/promote/etc. It’s been very helpful in such interactions.
I would add also to this wonderful list:
If you often find yourself in the company mainly of white people, try to figure out why that is, and more importantly, how you can change that.
Re: mamacandtheboys and being “less White”
Over on the Stuff White People Do blog, I made a comment about identifying with people of color (not necessarily AS a person of color). Let me restate what I said there:
I have a sneaking suspicion that the shift that needs to happen is that They have to become Us. White people have to identify with (not identify as) people of color. Men have to identify with women. Heterosexuals have to identify with queers. Cisgender people have to identify with (not as) transgender people. The able with the disabled, and so on.
When I say identify, I don’t mean sympathize or empathize. And I certainly don’t mean taking up the “noble” work of appropriating suffering. [For example], it means identifying with Black women because, in a way, you are a Black woman, regardless of what your skin or your genitalia look like. But I don’t know exactly how that comes about, but generally some sort of lived experience is key.
The best example I can think of is Steve Martin in “The Jerk” going, “Sir, YOU ARE TALKING TO A NIGGER!!!” then proceeding to open a can of Whup Ass on a bunch of racists (who are, funnily enough, trying to prevent Black people from renting apartments in a building by keeping prices high). If you haven’t seen it, stop reading this and go rent it right now.
How do we fight racism while pretending that it is a social construct in the same way that the days the week are constructs? That seems wrong to me. Race is actually a false construct. Tuesday doesn’t have any truth value. We could call it Pickleday. But race refers to something that is not there– subspecies of homo sapiens. There are not any. Race is imprecise, arbitrary, has exceptions and no agreed upon traits. Tuesday is much different. Race is a name for something that doesn’t exist. Tuesday is an arbirary name for a precise thing.
Pingback: Enlightenment to Endarkenment: Grab the Mic | Moms of Hue
I am deeply moved by the expressions
that what wants get a ‘voice’. As a “black” woman, let me first say, we will get through this together, as in being allies, as in being human, as in being whatever so called color we are in. Social ills comes in all forms, social grace is a form that will be sorely missing a lot of times even in the best of circles. However, we are here to be our best and we either learn it here or not at all. Thank you for teaching one who is always willing to listen to what is said from the heart. That is where it all takes place and healing cancome about. This is what needs to be understood as we become “allies’. I feel less like a color and more like a human with spirit when I am percieved with open kindness and understanding. I pray I can be that also. Again, thanks for the insights.
I’ve read some of your recent posts and my head is spinning. It seems that there is knowledge in the air that we have tapped into at the same time; it’s as if we collaborated and then wrote the results in our respective formats. I would like to offer our book “Longing: Stories of Racial Healing” and ourselves as resources. I don’t know where you live, buy my husband and I will be on a book tour around the country starting this May. I hope you can use us somehow.
With my respect and support,
Phyllis
Pingback: The Show Goes On (Part 1) | Si Se Puede
I think that my first wake up call was coming to the US on vacation in 1981. I was a very little girl and went with my family on vacation to the Gulf Coast- Mississippi. My sister and I were at the hotel pool playing with two other little girls. I was shocked to see my mother screaming at some men as the little girls we were with were ushered away by their mother. I was very confused and my mother explained that the people were “mean” and “racist” and didn’t think we should play with the other little girls because they were black. Being Canadian meant that this sort of thing was completely foreign to me. (pun intended) That afternoon the other family packed up and left and as we hugged them all their mother told us that she felt it wasn’t safe for them to stay but assured me that I hadn’t done anything wrong (kids always think it’s their fault). Even as a young child, I could see that this mother was AFRAID for her children and herself. As sad as that experience was, it did open my eyes to racism in the US. As a transracial adoptive mom, now in the US, I am learning and hopefully, growing to be more aware of the issues my daughter faces. I honestly never felt white privilege in Canada (there is simply not the history there- the underground railroad ended near where I grew up and we didn’t have a civil rights movement or freedom rides). I am not saying Canada is perfect, maybe white privilege is there to a lesser extent and I was oblivious, but I DO see it here. Resources like this are invaluable for me as a mother. Thank you!
Pingback: I Am who I Am Because of Other People « Relando Thompkins
I honestly never felt white privilege in Canada (there is simply not the history there- the underground railroad ended near where I grew up and we didn’t have a civil rights movement or freedom rides). I am not saying Canada is perfect, maybe white privilege is there to a lesser extent and I was oblivious,
Oh, you were oblivious, trust me on this. Or better yet, ask some non-White Canadians, especially First Nations folk, and see whether or not there is no or little racism in Canada.
Sorry for the late response-Witchsistah…You are so right! I was OBLIVIOUS (and I shouldn’t have said “maybe”in my previous post) It’s a lot more comfortable/easy to say that racism is a problem in another country than to realize it is everywhere and that I have to make changes to stop being part of the problem….
I know that I need to make changes to my perceptions and take off my blinders-especially, about where I grew up. The more I read, the more I discuss, the more I realize that I have a LOT more to learn! I find this site is tremendously helpful and appreciate being able to participate in it.
Pingback: Re: “Can I touch it?” The Fascination with Natural, African-American Hair « Relando Thompkins
Pingback: “Your hair is so neat , Can I touch it?” « Strawberricurls
Pingback: To Serve « Relando Thompkins, MSW