An Anti-Racism Toolkit for Moderate White People
Resources for pairing deep empathy with urgent action, no excuses
As rebellions spread throughout the U.S. in response to racist violence against Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, George Floyd and many others, white Americans must reflect on this critical truth: racism still exists in 2020 because we’ve preserved it. We find ourselves in the midst of a social upheaval as a direct result of white privilege and supremacy.
I hear other white people criticizing Black resistance and feel self-righteous in my more progressive views. Then I remember I’ve lapsed on the anti-racism workbook I started last year. I’m culpable too. Any complacent behavior contributes to the “lukewarm acceptance” Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. spoke of in his widely-read letter from Birmingham City Jail:
First, I must confess that over the past few years I have been gravely disappointed with the white moderate. I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro’s great stumbling block in his stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen’s Council-er or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate, who is more devoted to “order” than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice; who constantly says: “I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I cannot agree with your methods of direct action”; who paternalistically believes he can set the timetable for another man’s freedom; who lives by a mythical concept of time and who constantly advises the Negro to wait for a “more convenient season.” Shallow understanding from people of good will is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will. Lukewarm acceptance is much more bewildering than outright rejection.
In her recent Netflix documentary, Michelle Obama expresses a similar sense of disappointment when she opens up about the low turnout of Democrats during midterm elections throughout her husband’s presidency. Many white liberals had applauded the Obamas’ rise to leadership then failed to provide the Congress needed for real, sustainable progress. She looks away from the camera and reflects, “That was my trauma.”
This is what I’m hearing from the Black community: It’s never been enough for white people to meet Black trauma with compassion alone. It’s not okay to critique the Black community’s response to oppression today. The only way forward is to prioritize Black lives and wellbeing, right now.
Below are prompts and resources that have helped me act urgently and intentionally in response to anti-Blackness.
Give your financial resources to anti-racism activists and movements.
Reflections:
When we give our money to people and organizations dismantling racism, we fund necessary change and admit the American economic system was built for white people. When we hesitate or waste our time critiquing anti-racism work, we act from a position of privilege that perpetuates the very thing we’re trying to stop. Isn’t this toxic and counterproductive?
Actions:
Send some of your resources to the people and movements who need it right now, like the George Floyd Memorial Fund, the Minnesota Freedom Fund, or Kinfolk Kollective, which frequently sends monetary gifts to individuals in the Black community. Set up recurring donations to a civil rights organization like the ACLU or Black Lives Matter. Consider how modern philanthropy functions like “the white moderate” too.
Spend time witnessing Black trauma and the experiences of African Americans.
Reflections:
Trauma has been defined as any experience we cannot prepare for, or a negative bodily response to overwhelming situations. Science tells us how trauma is stored in the body and passed down through generations. If today’s resistors are reacting to their own trauma and the oppression of African ancestors, how can we witness it compassionately?
Actions:
Read this article on trauma therapist Resmaa Menakem, who’s interviewed by Kristin Moe about his views on healing racial trauma. Menakem also wrote a book called My Grandmother’s Hands: Racialized Trauma and the Pathway to Mending Our Hearts and Bodies. Listen to Black people expressing their trauma and calling for support and healing. Participate in any related actions requested.
Educate yourself about the ways racism manifests today, both individually and collectively.
Reflections:
“Denying African Americans citizenship was deemed essential to the formation of the original union. Hundreds of years later, America is still not an egalitarian democracy. The arguments and rationalizations that have been trotted out in support of racial exclusion and discrimination in its various forms have changed and evolved, but the outcome has remained largely the same.” — The New Jim Crow
Actions:
Develop or renew your concept of white privilege with Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack from Peggy McIntosh. Explore America’s social and economic injustices in The Case for Reparations by Ta-Nehesi Coates. Purchase Michelle Alexander’s The New Jim Crow and read it repeatedly, along with watching the documentary 13th.
Follow Black activists and educators without asking them to educate you.
Reflections:
Because white people aren’t doing the work of ending racism, it’s fallen on Black people’s shoulders to educate and self-advocate even as they process trauma. The resources being providing are critical to understanding privilege and ending oppression, and it’s incredibly hard work to sustain. How can we fund and support their work without adding to the burden? How can we do the work of dismantling white supremacy?
Actions:
Teach yourself about emotional labor. Then open your Instagram account and follow @rachel.cargle, @laylafsaad and @austinchanning. Enter their spaces with humility and respect. Absorb their education, and don’t ask questions unless invited. Do the work to answer your own questions.
Commit to this everyday practice to help prevent racialized trauma.
Reflections:
Everyone has what’s called lived experience, or a representation of your experiences and choices. Because this vastly differs from person to person, it’s problematic to use white experiences to critique Black lives. Put simply, it’s not okay to contribute to a conversation for which we’re not qualified. When we weigh in on Black resistance, we essentially center ourselves in an issue that’s not about us. It tells others that our reality is the priority over theirs. This is gaslighting, a dangerous form of emotional abuse. What is it like for a Black person to regularly experience this kind of interpersonal violence?
Actions:
Stop centering white experiences in Black lives. Catch yourself doing it, and call out other white people when you see it happening. Listen more than you talk. Teach yourself how to avoid carrying out emotional abuse and micro-aggressions, the verbal and nonverbal messages that communicate hostility to Black people and other racial minorities.
This article will be updated continually as I learn new information or ways to share it more respectfully. Explore additional anti-racism resources here.
