We live in a society whose airwaves are dominated by combative pundits who artificially trade barbs for ratings instead of exchange ideas for solutions; a society where opportunities for public deliberation are truncated by the casual utilization of empty buzz words and rhetorical catch phrases; a society where sustained dialogue is replaced by media-ready sound bytes and quick-and-easy highlight clips.
It is no wonder that as much as we may constantly speak about race, we rarely talk about racism in prolonged and meaningful ways.
Indeed, even though we all may be able to speak the language of race—familiar enough with the vocabulary, at this point, to feel proficient—we are not necessarily fluent at speaking. Many of us know the words but not their deeper meanings. Furthermore, regardless of fluency, the vocabulary is so highly contested, negotiable, and in constant flux that it takes on very different meanings to different people as well. Open any book, tune into any evening news show, or surf the web for any definitions. We hear the words, but how often do we think about what the words really mean?
We believe that the language we use and the type of ways we make use of it is more than an exercise of academic abstraction. Language fundamentally informs, shapes, and alters the way we see the world around. Making meaning of anything—of ourselves, of our institutions, of our notions of reality—is invariably predicated upon first making sense of the language we use and why we use it. Thus, in order to understand what white antiracism entails, we must first explore the meaning of white racism. One cannot take an antithetical posture toward racism if one does not truly know what racism is.
For us, white antiracism can be conceptualized as a holistic divestment from the structural forces of white supremacy in all its many faces and forms, in all its manifestations and reenactments, in all its vicious and destructive consequences. In practice, white antiracism is an antithetical posture, a critical worldview, a method of perspective-taking, a personal sense of accountability, a process of resistive agency. It is a refusal to be complicit in the system of white supremacy through our language, our actions, our consumer decisions, our politics, our ethical considerations, and our relationships in and to the world.
To be clear about our usage of the term white supremacy, we quote Frances Ansley:
[By] “white supremacy” I do not mean to allude only to the self-conscious racism of white supremacist hate groups. I refer instead to a political, economic, and cultural system in which whites overwhelmingly control power and material resources, conscious and unconscious ideas of white superiority and entitlement are widespread, and relations of white dominance and non-white subordination are daily reenacted across a broad array of institutions and social settings.
White antiracism, in that sense, requires us to do more than rally against overt discrimination or recognize the privileges afforded us by our skin. While such efforts can be productive, they are not sufficient and can be, at times, completely misleading and misrepresentative about what is really going on. In other words, they are far from radical; they are reifications, in many ways, of the status quo. [For an unparalleled scholarly exploration on the importance of focusing our conversations around the theme of white supremacy, please click here to read the thoughts of Zeus Leonardo. He says it much better than we could hope to summarize here!].
Furthermore, white antiracism, as we conceptualize it, is not indicative of a complete reversal of all racist inclinations, attitudes and positions but a dualistic process of critically reflecting upon and acting against the racism that remains deeply embedded in all white people, even long after we take responsibility and become active agents of resistance to the perpetuation of white supremacy.
White antiracism, in that sense, can be compared to alcoholism. Much like an admitted alcoholic who remains an alcoholic for the rest of their life, regardless of the fact that they may never touch alcohol again, antiracist people continue to harbor racist attitudes and act in complicity with racist institutions even while we may be reflexively invested in confronting those same attitudes and dismantling those same structures. Alcoholism is not a disease one cures; it is a problem that people learn to live with, constantly grappling and struggling with their disease even after they have dedicated themselves to fighting against it. Indeed, alcoholics remain in recovery for the rest of their lives long after the temptations to drink have all but subsided entirely. Similarly, antiracist practice does not signify the end of racism but the lifelong process of identifying, owning and redressing its lethal consequences while the more powerful forces of our white supremacist socialization and histories continue to sway our actions and inclinations from deeply within.
Just as alcoholism is a disease with hereditary properties, so too is white supremacy. We may not have a choice to have been born with white skin but we do have a choice about how we relate to and what we do with our whiteness. And if we are serious about it, making a choice will not be something we do once. We will have to make choices over and over again, every day, and for as long as we live.
PS- If you are still unsure about how EXACTLY white supremacy actually functions and manifests itself in lived experiences and practices, the next few posts will surely provide more clarity. Watch for them soon!
5.11.2007
5.10.2007
On Beginning...
This website has been a long time coming. I sometimes like to pretend that its tardiness is the direct result of my limited free time. But then again, I have never struggled to find the necessary free time for drinking Jim Beam, obsessively logging onto ESPN.com, or watching 58-hour marathons of The Wire. While my own laziness and lack of focus have certainly been factors in the delay, the real reason is much deeper than that. It’s much rawer. And it’s much more honest.
I was scared.
For the last five years since graduating from college, I have remained engaged in antiracist exploration—but not as an activist, only as a critic. I have studied in grad programs and picked apart arguments in books and classrooms. I have listened to acclaimed scholars and dismissed the content of their presentations because of disagreements over theoretical starting points and problematic word choices. I have conversed with folks who work for non-profits and disparaged the focus of their intervention efforts. I have listened to the radio, skimmed through magazines, tuned into the TV and tried as hard as I could to identify and dissect every instance of explicit and implicit racism. And all along, I have scribbled across the inside of my skull all the cynical responses and all the scathing assessments that I could compose about the permanence and pervasiveness of white supremacy in our society.
And while I recognize that some of the most transformative activist work is enacted by viewing oneself and the world through a critical lens, I also think that dialogue is infinitely more productive. But I have been having a one way conversation. Taking it all in and giving little back. Responding to others in my own head; yelling and screaming, aching and pleading…but often no louder than a whisper.
I have wanted to say unpopular things but remain a popular guy. Wanted to remain well-liked even if the things I wanted to talk about were highly unlikable to those around me. Wanted to be valued for my capacity to do transformative work rather than disparaged for my inability to actually do it once I tried. I was scared of reactions, scared of responses, scared of criticism, but even more so, I was scared about what I might say.
However, as my brilliant advisor, Garrett A. Duncan, reminds me, we too often conflate talking with teaching and listening with learning. In contrast, he implores his students to talk it out, to put themselves out there, to learn something by agreeing to actually say something. Indeed, if we are never willing to share our thoughts and are never asked to clarify our beliefs, then we are rarely in positions to hear criticism, to consider the challenges, or to better articulate what it is that we are trying to say. Behind a wall of silence, we can imagine that the people talking are the only ones being problematic...that the pitfalls and landmines of racial exploration are only obstacles for others to navigate.
Now this approach doesn’t justify talking too much and listening too little, as white folks too often do when it comes to understanding and exploring the features of white supremacy in our society. And it certainly doesn’t mean saying nothing when others are saying problematic things. Talking things out only becomes a valuable learning process if people take the time to listen to themselves (to truly hear what is coming out of our own mouths) and then take the time to actually listen to others (to truly understand how they have interpreted what we said and how we might learn and grow from their reflections and responses).
In following, this forum is all about putting ourselves out there. About being willing to say the things that we are thinking and share the things that we are feeling. About being OK with saying problematic things, at times, if we are simultaneously invested in learning from what we say. About trusting that there are others out there who will not give up on us if we are simultaneously unwilling to give up on the endless process of self-exploration and discovery.
I mean, what good are white people to the antiracist movement if we are too scared to be unpopular or disliked? If we are too afraid of being questioned, challenged, pushed, criticized, or corrected by others, especially folks of color? If we are too scared, as so many white people are, of being pegged as a racist, devalued as an ally, or called out on our BS? If we are too unwilling to realize that even we may still have infinitely more to learn and explore than we desperately wanted to believe? If we are too fearful of finding out what may come out of our mouths instead of so concerned with dissecting what is coming out of everyone else’s? People of color do not have the luxury of speaking out against oppression without fear of unthinkably costly reprisals. We would do well to remember that when we cower in fear over the way we may be perceived or become paralyzed by the anxiety of what we may lose. Our crises can become others’ sanctuaries.
With that said, welcome to the John Brown Party Forum. It was borne out of a recognition that white folks too often rely on people of color to dismiss and dismantle white supremacy for us; out of a recognition that we only tend to meaningfully talk about racism when folks of color our in our presence to initiate and insist upon it; out of a recognition that we often force people of color into the mentally, emotionally and spiritually exhausting role of teacher so that we get our “a-ha” moments and shed our tears while they walk away having gained very little, if anything at all, from such interactions. Avoiding these drive-by “hit it and quit it” sessions with folks of color means that white folks need to be talking amongst ourselves, need to be challenging each other, and need to be holding one another accountable regardless of whether or not folks of color are around to do it for us.
At the same time, we realize that all our efforts and all our ideas have invariably been shaped and informed by the scholarship and service of folks of color. Moreover, our goal is not to reinforce exclusionary practices or imagine ways to further marginalize people of color from conversations about liberation. Although this is a space for exploring ways that white people can contribute to the proliferation of antiracism, we welcome all people to contribute and challenge us. We invite all people to sit with us, if they so please. To join and strengthen the party! To react, respond, offer insights, and remind us of our direction. We just don’t want to expect it, and we certainly won’t demand it.
As you can tell by now, I write, for the most part, like I talk. Incessantly elaborating and rewording, constantly attempting to find a better way to say what I have already said. Less words, less flowery, my advisor exclaims! But I can’t do it. I understand that this can be arduous for a reader that prefers an argument to be concisely presented and can ultimately be antithetical to my purposes in writing. My goal is not to replace meaning with aesthetics. I simply wish for the words to resonate on multiple levels and to be processed by a myriad of faculties. So when our brains turn off because of the cognitive dissonance, our hearts pick up the slack. And when our hearts are overwhelmed by the senselessness and hopelessness of it all, then our brains can will us along through the emotional exhaustion. To trudge on. And on. And on…
I hope, in the end, this first forum post has had meaning for you. It certainly has for me. I’m still scared, but for the first time in too long of a time, I’m not silent. Welcome to the Party!
I was scared.
For the last five years since graduating from college, I have remained engaged in antiracist exploration—but not as an activist, only as a critic. I have studied in grad programs and picked apart arguments in books and classrooms. I have listened to acclaimed scholars and dismissed the content of their presentations because of disagreements over theoretical starting points and problematic word choices. I have conversed with folks who work for non-profits and disparaged the focus of their intervention efforts. I have listened to the radio, skimmed through magazines, tuned into the TV and tried as hard as I could to identify and dissect every instance of explicit and implicit racism. And all along, I have scribbled across the inside of my skull all the cynical responses and all the scathing assessments that I could compose about the permanence and pervasiveness of white supremacy in our society.
And while I recognize that some of the most transformative activist work is enacted by viewing oneself and the world through a critical lens, I also think that dialogue is infinitely more productive. But I have been having a one way conversation. Taking it all in and giving little back. Responding to others in my own head; yelling and screaming, aching and pleading…but often no louder than a whisper.
I have wanted to say unpopular things but remain a popular guy. Wanted to remain well-liked even if the things I wanted to talk about were highly unlikable to those around me. Wanted to be valued for my capacity to do transformative work rather than disparaged for my inability to actually do it once I tried. I was scared of reactions, scared of responses, scared of criticism, but even more so, I was scared about what I might say.
However, as my brilliant advisor, Garrett A. Duncan, reminds me, we too often conflate talking with teaching and listening with learning. In contrast, he implores his students to talk it out, to put themselves out there, to learn something by agreeing to actually say something. Indeed, if we are never willing to share our thoughts and are never asked to clarify our beliefs, then we are rarely in positions to hear criticism, to consider the challenges, or to better articulate what it is that we are trying to say. Behind a wall of silence, we can imagine that the people talking are the only ones being problematic...that the pitfalls and landmines of racial exploration are only obstacles for others to navigate.
Now this approach doesn’t justify talking too much and listening too little, as white folks too often do when it comes to understanding and exploring the features of white supremacy in our society. And it certainly doesn’t mean saying nothing when others are saying problematic things. Talking things out only becomes a valuable learning process if people take the time to listen to themselves (to truly hear what is coming out of our own mouths) and then take the time to actually listen to others (to truly understand how they have interpreted what we said and how we might learn and grow from their reflections and responses).
In following, this forum is all about putting ourselves out there. About being willing to say the things that we are thinking and share the things that we are feeling. About being OK with saying problematic things, at times, if we are simultaneously invested in learning from what we say. About trusting that there are others out there who will not give up on us if we are simultaneously unwilling to give up on the endless process of self-exploration and discovery.
I mean, what good are white people to the antiracist movement if we are too scared to be unpopular or disliked? If we are too afraid of being questioned, challenged, pushed, criticized, or corrected by others, especially folks of color? If we are too scared, as so many white people are, of being pegged as a racist, devalued as an ally, or called out on our BS? If we are too unwilling to realize that even we may still have infinitely more to learn and explore than we desperately wanted to believe? If we are too fearful of finding out what may come out of our mouths instead of so concerned with dissecting what is coming out of everyone else’s? People of color do not have the luxury of speaking out against oppression without fear of unthinkably costly reprisals. We would do well to remember that when we cower in fear over the way we may be perceived or become paralyzed by the anxiety of what we may lose. Our crises can become others’ sanctuaries.
With that said, welcome to the John Brown Party Forum. It was borne out of a recognition that white folks too often rely on people of color to dismiss and dismantle white supremacy for us; out of a recognition that we only tend to meaningfully talk about racism when folks of color our in our presence to initiate and insist upon it; out of a recognition that we often force people of color into the mentally, emotionally and spiritually exhausting role of teacher so that we get our “a-ha” moments and shed our tears while they walk away having gained very little, if anything at all, from such interactions. Avoiding these drive-by “hit it and quit it” sessions with folks of color means that white folks need to be talking amongst ourselves, need to be challenging each other, and need to be holding one another accountable regardless of whether or not folks of color are around to do it for us.
At the same time, we realize that all our efforts and all our ideas have invariably been shaped and informed by the scholarship and service of folks of color. Moreover, our goal is not to reinforce exclusionary practices or imagine ways to further marginalize people of color from conversations about liberation. Although this is a space for exploring ways that white people can contribute to the proliferation of antiracism, we welcome all people to contribute and challenge us. We invite all people to sit with us, if they so please. To join and strengthen the party! To react, respond, offer insights, and remind us of our direction. We just don’t want to expect it, and we certainly won’t demand it.
As you can tell by now, I write, for the most part, like I talk. Incessantly elaborating and rewording, constantly attempting to find a better way to say what I have already said. Less words, less flowery, my advisor exclaims! But I can’t do it. I understand that this can be arduous for a reader that prefers an argument to be concisely presented and can ultimately be antithetical to my purposes in writing. My goal is not to replace meaning with aesthetics. I simply wish for the words to resonate on multiple levels and to be processed by a myriad of faculties. So when our brains turn off because of the cognitive dissonance, our hearts pick up the slack. And when our hearts are overwhelmed by the senselessness and hopelessness of it all, then our brains can will us along through the emotional exhaustion. To trudge on. And on. And on…
I hope, in the end, this first forum post has had meaning for you. It certainly has for me. I’m still scared, but for the first time in too long of a time, I’m not silent. Welcome to the Party!
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