Of Whiteness
A privileged white person talking about whiteness and privilege and what those even mean
Tuesday, October 25, 2016
SNL's "Black Jeopardy" Is On Point
The skit got a good deal of coverage because it asserts in a hilarious way that Trump supporters and Black folks actually have a great deal in common.
I suggest you watch the skit before reading on:
Basically all of the characters are surprised when the Donald Trump supporter seems to "get" Black culture as if it is his own.
The main joke of the skit comes toward the end when the double jeopardy category is revealed as "What Lives Matter," and it's obvious that these folks, who have all responded similarly so far, will reveal completely disparate views on the phrase Black Lives Matter.
It shouldn't surprise us, though, that poor Black folks and poor white folks have so much in common, because they DO.
And that's the remarkable point SNL is making with their skit.
Whiteness was created as a means of empowering one group at the expense of the other, specifically making white folks feel superior to Black and brown folks, no matter their socio-economic status.
The idea of whiteness did not exist prior to Black slavery and whiteness was not popularized until the existence of these colonies and this country built on slave labor.
Whiteness was created as a means of cementing a system of oppression for wealthy folks' economic gain.
The idea adopted by many poor white folks that Black and brown folks are the cause of all their problems, has been taught to poor white folks for centuries by rich white folks.
Tim Wise puts it well that "whiteness was created to divide and conquer, to create the notion that even though you might not have much, at least you're not Black, at least you're not indigenous . . . . . You may not have much, but at least you have as W.E.B. Dubois said 'the psychological wage of whiteness'" (Wise).
Historically speaking poor people have much in common with other poor people.
And yet poor white folks are tricked by rich white folks that the reason they're suffering is because of poor Black and brown folks, furthering the divide between groups of people who can be united.
SNL's "Black Jeopardy" skit is hilarious.
But it's also saying something very important about humanity and how much more we have in common than we might think.
My mom has made an observation a few times to me that when she reads the books or articles I've recommended on racial justice and healing, she's reminded how much of her childhood as a poor child of poor Norwegian farmers in Wisconsin looks like that of poor Black folks' experiences in the South post-reconstruction.
Share-cropping; abuse by land owners; land stolen by banks; biased wages and treatment; her childhood was marked by these experiences and they scarred her father's mind and body in ways she can't forget.
In her pocket of the US in the 40's and 50's, she encountered no Black folks. But by that point, if she had, I'm sure the widely disseminated narrative of her superior whiteness would have affected any interactions she would have with them as they affect any interactions white folks have with Black folks now (internal biases)
It's in reading stories now that she can see the same human experience from one poor person to the next, regardless of color.
She has agreed, however, that her life was never in danger because she was poor and white, whereas being poor and Black is often a death sentence.
It was then, and it is now.
In order for white folks to begin to say "Black Lives Matter," we need to unravel the centuries-long narrative of white supremacy that is based on nothing other than economic gain for the wealthy.
We need to see the humanity in the "other."
We need to read stories and find our similarities
We need to interact, for proximity breaks barriers.
Then white folks can maybe begin to believe the systemic violence perpetrated against Black bodies.
If we cannot see our own similarities, we cannot see humanity in the other. And our co-humanity is where we must start.
Sunday, September 4, 2016
So Far To Go and Totally Worth It
I consider myself a reasonably “woke” white person. I’m still learning, yes, but I feel that I’ve come a long way in my understanding of the necessity of the Movement for Black Lives, the deep history of oppression of Black bodies that extends into every sphere of our current lives, and the importance of white people talking to other white people about systemic racism and white supremacy.
But just the other day in a racial justice dialogue group organized by the UMC Baltimore-Washington Conference, I found myself slipping into an old narrative of Black experiences during a role-playing exercise.
I was supposed to be an applicant for a job with an interviewer who had my fictional criminal record in hand that included, among other small offenses, a drug charge. When asked to explain my fictional record, I immediately went for the poor-relationship-with-my-father-and-a-rough-childhood-on-the-streets story with an image of a Black man in my mind the entire time. I didn’t require my brain to consider the fact that the majority of drug users and sellers in the US are white.
I told the story as I had been told for many years, consciously and unconsciously, that Black men sell drugs and they do so because their culture and leadership is lacking.
When confronted with my blatantly racist thinking, I was so disheartened yet not surprised.
The layers of my own racism are deep. They are so. very. deep. And I realized anew in this dialogue group that my own self-understanding is only just beginning.
And yet, I could not come to this conclusion on my own. It was only in facilitated conversation with white and Black folks that I could begin to peel back the layers of the racist narrative I have been taught. I can read a great deal on my own, yes, but self-understanding does not come easily and it often cannot come through reading in isolation.
When I place myself in the sometimes uncomfortable position of connecting with others, of building sinew between us in conversational relationship, I open my heart up to immense change.
And isn’t that really what Jesus has called me to, anyway? Changing my own heart to build the Kingdom?
Monday, July 18, 2016
My Notes and Thoughts Following "What the White Church Must Do", a Panel Discussion on Racial Justice Held at the National Cathedral
Jim Wallis, Editor-in-Chief of Sojourners Magazine and author of multiple books on race and racism in the US and in Christianity, discussed how white Christianity is an idolatry that separates white Christians from God.
Rev Stapleton also pointed out that we UMC folks love our potlucks, but racial justice cannot just be about the gathering. This conversation has to start with communal white repentance.
Sunday, February 21, 2016
Of Bias and Why It Matters That You Know Yours
I and another woman in the group quickly jumped in to say that we had the same test results: we showed moderate prejudice toward European Americans in the test. Then another member of the group, a young Black man said that his results showed that he has implicit prejudice toward African Americans.
Implicit bias exists in us all.
It's ingrained in us through our environment and our experiences. We can't blame one person or one experience for making us implicitly biased, for our biases are built over a lifetime.
It's the decisions we make ignorant of or knowing of that bias that are right or wrong.
Let me repeat myself: We are all biased. We all have implicit prejudices and studies have shown that changing those prejudices is extremely difficult.
But knowing that you're biased is the first step in the right direction to changing your decisions based on those biases.
Since we all have them, why are biases such a big deal? If we're all biased, who cares?
The trouble is not in the bias but in the power behind the bias, or as Jim Wallis says, "racism is prejudice plus power."
Racism is prejudice plus power.
Racism is bias plus power.
Add power to your bias and it can lead to systemized death.
The trouble comes when the unchecked bias leads to the deaths of Trayvon Martin, Eric Garner, Sandra Bland and millions of other Black folks.
I encourage you, white person, to take the Implicit bias test.
The link is right there. It doesn't take long.
Knowing ourselves and questioning ourselves and learning who we are and what we believe, even without thinking, is the first step toward trying to understand others.
Thursday, February 4, 2016
Whiteness is...
Sunday, January 31, 2016
Our Racial Justice Group at Church
In our first meeting, our Reverend asked us to chat with the folks next to us about our initial reaction to the content in the book, specifically to rate on a scale of 0-5 how much of this information was new to us and how much of it was old news, with zero being brand new information and five being common knowledge to us.
I turned to the three elderly Black women on my left and listened as they all gave fives - mass incarceration was not new. Targeting Black folks for petty crimes and labeling them as felons in order to keep them down was not new. The war on drugs as a means to create a lower class system of people of color was not new. Five.
Then I was to speak. To identify what I knew and what I didn't know. To reveal my knowledge or my ignorance.
I said one. And that might have been generous.
I said something along these lines: I've known that we have a huge prison population but that was it. I didn't know that our prison population does not whatsoever reflect our national demographic statistics - that black and brown folks make up a huge amount of our prison population. I didn't know that the war on drugs was a means of rounding up Black men and imprisoning them, even though statistically white folks are more likely to use and sell drugs as Black folks. I didn't know any statistics on the racism of stop-and-frisks.
I had a sense, but I didn't know. Which is why I said one.
These women were not surprised. Of course I didn't know. I didn't have to know. I didn't have to live this reality. For I am white and one of the perks of my whiteness is the privilege of ignorance.
This book group has been kind and patient with a learner.
I need to know. I need to listen. I need to learn.
For if I don't know that something exists, then it does not exist in my world.
If I don't choose to learn that their are extreme racial disparities in this country, then to me there are no racial disparities in this country.
They will not exist.
Probably in the second and third week of our meeting together, someone mentioned the dearth of white folks.
"Why aren't there more white people in this group?"
As one of the only white folks there, I responded "because we don't have to be here. To learn about race and racism is a choice we get to make, not a requirement. And since learning can be uncomfortable, we often choose not to do it."
I try not to talk at all in our discussion groups. I try to limit my comments to once or twice, and those only after listening for a good long while to the rest of the group.
As a white person, I approach this group as a learner and a listener. For it is through listening and learning that I can change myself. And in changing myself I can hopefully change my world, including my white folks.