I dedicate this article to my friend, Aaliyah. Thank you for being the first to teach me what true kindness, generosity, loyalty and strength are, even in the face of so much struggle. Feliz cumpleaños mi bella. Te extraño y te amo mucho.
Every year, it happens. No matter how many thoughtful voices speak up on the issue, no matter how many preemptive articles and posts circulate on social media: white people will wear racist costumes on Halloween. This is a fact of life. These costumes range from blatantly racist depictions of Trayvon Martin, to more seemingly thoughtless appropriations of Native American and Mexican culture among others. Each year, this performance of Whiteness bothers me. This year, I have chosen to speak up.
I am white and I go to a private liberal arts college; I have privilege.
I say and do unintentionally racist things; I make mistakes.
Sometimes I speak when I should listen; I can be loud.
Sometimes I listen when I should speak; I can be timid.
I grew up in Providence, Rhode Island. I have pride in my city. It was in my city that I went to highly diverse schools which taught me what it meant to be white. It wasn’t easy, but it was worth it. I have found that life is much sweeter when you can deeply and authentically search for and find the things that truly connect you to people, instead of creating hatred filled barriers between yourself and others. This Halloween, from a white person talking to white people, I’m digging deep and going back to the basics. These are three things I think make all the difference.
1. Acknowledge Your Privilege
Just the other day, I managed to minimize my friend’s experiences about what it is like to be a person of color on our college campus. In sharing their stories, this friend made a passing comment that, as a white woman, I could never understand what it’s like to face such pervasive daily discrimination against my race in the place where I study and call home. I immediately became defensive, and countered that being a woman on a college campus also comes with certain difficulties (never mind being a woman of color). This is a perfect example of what white people tend to do when faced with their own privilege. My friend was completely right. As a white woman, I will never know what it is like to be a tall, darker-skinned, presumedly male person of color walking around our predominantly white college campus.
This doesn’t mean that my point was invalid. In fact, the two issues are not mutually exclusive. In the moment, however, my point was discrediting. That’s the real kicker when it comes to defensiveness. He wasn’t telling me that as a white woman I don’t face discrimination, only that I cannot know the type of discrimination he faces. When someone points out your privilege to you, they aren’t saying that you haven’t faced other hardships. They aren’t saying that your life is easy, or that you don’t have struggles that you need to overcome yourself. What they are telling you is that in our society — socially, politically and economically — white people have certain privileges that they do not. In certain, extremely important, extremely influential ways, if you are white, your life is inherently easier than theirs, even if your life isn’t perfect. So, when I responded to him defensively, I essentially sent out the message that my whiteness does not benefit me on our campus — but it does.
When we, as white people, send out the message that we do not believe privilege benefits us- in any context- we are telling people of color that we do not believe in white privilege. When we deny the existence of white privilege and its benefits, we are discrediting their experience in society as a product of their own actions as opposed to a product of systemic racism. When we deny our privilege and discredit their experiences, we become racism itself, because racism and white privilege will alway be intertwined.
My advice, from my experience, don’t deny your privilege and become racism itself. Instead, acknowledge your privilege. Even if you don’t want to do it, acknowledge your privilege please. The world will be better off for it.
2. Be Humble
Too often, one of my fellow white peers has studied systemic racism from a fancy textbook, listened to rap, hung out with people of color, and anointed themselves an expert on racism. When confronted with an explanation or incidence of white privilege, racism, or discreditation, especially one that they have committed, I cringe when I hear them say, “I know what white privilege is.” or even worse, “I know what racism is.”
This really offends me. Knowing what something is in theory does not mean that you know how something presents itself in society — it does not mean that you know what something really looks like or how it feels. And, it especially does not mean that you will not commit these offenses yourself. Yes, you may be able to tell me the definition of white privilege, but you’ll never be able to tell me all the ways it benefits you in your daily life, all the ways it oppresses the people of color around you, or all the ways that you perpetuate white privilege, because that is impossible. You will never be an expert, just as I will never be an expert. You will make mistakes, just as I will make mistakes. There will always be more I can learn, or something I didn’t think of, or something I just can’t see. It’s important, as white people, to remember that this is not about ourselves.
Indeed, we can become so fixated on the idea of becoming a “white ally,” that we forget why we were trying so hard to become 100% “not racist” in the first place. Never forget though, that this is about people of color and the struggles they experience in society on a daily basis. When I say be humble, I mean for us to remember that this is not a competition of knowing, but rather a fight against injustice. As such, we must not forget that we are not above making mistakes, no matter how tolerant, educated or compassionate we are. So the next time you catch yourself saying, “I [already] know [what is being told to you]” try saying,
“I understand what you are telling me, and I’m sorry.” Or even better,
“I hear you. I’m sorry.” “I’m listening.” “I’m here for you.” In the end, these mean more than any demonstration of your knowledge, because being receptive and supportive is more important than being an expert, especially when it comes to being an actual, sigh, “white ally.”
“People of color can only do so much in a world where their voices are met with such fierce resistance and opposition. It is not on them to make you think; it is on you.”
3. Reflect
A million people could tell you a million times why you should not paint your face like a sugar skull this Halloween, but if you don’t reflect, you still won’t get it. People of color can only do so much in a world where their voices are met with such fierce resistance and opposition. It is not on them to make you think; it is on you. Nobody can open your eyes to the world but yourself.
After I argued with my friend that women also face discrimination on college campuses, as well as people of color, I would not have been able to issue him the apology that I eventually did unless I had reflected. I so easily could have told myself that I was right (even though by being discrediting, I was not). After all, most campus cultures can be extremely sexist. In any circumstance, there is a moment where you can choose not to reflect. We live in a society with so much distraction — from smartphones, to televisions, to computers — it makes it easy for us not to reflect. If we want to, we can shut ourselves off from having to think about racism and the part that we play in it.
Instead, I sat down, took a few deep breaths, and asked myself why I was having the reaction that I was having. What was making me so defensive? What was I missing when he was talking to me?
Let me tell you, the answer wasn’t pretty. It takes strength to face yourself and the world. Racism is some seriously complicated, deep-rooted, messed up stuff. Slowly realizing that you are significantly more racist than you once gave yourself credit for can be an overwhelming and scary process. I get it, I really do.
But, we need to do it. For all the people that have suffered for hundreds and hundreds of years at the hands of white people, and will continue to face hatred and discrimination if we do not act, we need to reflect. For all the white people that will benefit from a more equal and just society, we need to face reality, no matter how harsh, ugly or complex it is. For all the people that wear the faces of those brutally murdered in America like it is some kind of costume to laugh at, we need to become stronger, together.
I felt like complete crap after realizing I had just undermined my good friend in a typical, liberal white girl way. Did I run from that feeling, or choose to ignore it? No. Instead, I owned up to what I had done, and tried to make amends for the situation I had created.
Later that day, I sent my friend a text. It read, “sorry for minimizing your struggles. I hear you about your experiences on campus. when I'm feeling in a different mood I’d love to sit down and listen to you more authentically. sorry.” That was it. That was all it took to own up. Truly, it wasn’t hard, and our friendship became stronger for it, and my mind made more aware.
I know this is not all that it takes to acknowledge whiteness, but this is where I started. I could not have learned what I have learned over the years without becoming conscious of my own privilege, receptive to the people and events around me, humble to criticism and reflective of what I was seeing, hearing and doing. On this Halloween, I ask that amidst the fun, we all take a moment to remember all that is still happening with racism in America. Let’s try harder and push ourselves to be even just a little bit better moving forward. There is always more work to be done, and there is always more to be written. Stay tuned, because the basics are just the beginning. This white girl has got more to say, and I intend to say it.