Letter to a White Man

Rhett McLaughlin
7 min readMay 31, 2020

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Photograph by Xena Goldman

It wasn’t until relatively recently that I began to recognize the racist ideas that I’ve carried with me for much of my life. While I’ve still got a lot to learn (and unlearn), I’m beginning to come to grips with my contribution to the continued inequities in America.

Because I’m not so far removed from those former patterns of thought, I could hear the old me repeating tired platitudes as I watched the tragic video of George Floyd’s murder and the nationwide protests that followed. As an exercise in further personal growth, and in an effort to speak to those with backgrounds like me, I’ve written a letter to my former self to help him process these current events.

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Dear Rhett,

I’ve got some difficult things to say, and I ask that you be open and introspective. If you can, resist the very natural urge to get defensive.

I know that you’re concerned with justice. You’re determined to believe the facts about the death of George Floyd (or, for that matter, the deaths of Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbury, Philando Castile, Freddie Gray, Tamir Rice, Michael Brown, Eric Garner, and more). When it comes to the resulting public outcry and protests, you believe your thinking is based in logic and good faith. But, I challenge you to consider that the way that you see these events is largely rooted in your Whiteness.

Please, keep reading. You can take it.

I imagine that, as you watched the footage of Derek Chauvin with his knee on George Floyd’s neck, your first thought was that it seemed like the officer was using excessive force. However, I’d presume that your second thought was “What did that guy do to deserve that?” You likely questioned what role George Floyd’s past played in the incident before thinking about Derek Chauvin’s past. I believe that’s because, whether you like it or not, your natural tendency is to identify first with the officer before identifying with George Floyd.

Now, I know you believe that the officer should be held accountable for his actions. Maybe even convicted of murder. But I also know you’re anxious to point out that Derek Chauvin doesn’t represent all cops, and that the majority of police are truly concerned with serving and protecting. I’m sorry, but you’re missing the point. This event is another tragic example of the long history of violence against Black Americans at the hands of law enforcement. By jumping to defend the reputation of the police before really considering that history of violence, you’re actually contributing to it.

Stay with me. I know you’re an evidence guy, and the evidence is overwhelming that the criminal-justice system is racist toward Black people. To name just a handful of examples that Radley Balko covered in his well-researched 2018 article: Black people are more likely than White people to be pulled over, to not be told why they are being stopped, and to be searched. Black people are more likely than White people to be shot by an officer while unarmed. Black people are more likely than White people to go to prison for the same crimes, and more likely to be wrongfully convicted. Black defendants who kill White people are much more likely to receive the death penalty than Black people who kill Black people or White people who kill White people. Black men receive twenty percent longer prison sentences for committing the same crimes as White men. I could go on. Here’s the thing: you need statistics and studies to be convinced about this stuff. Black people know this already based on their experience.

Ultimately, by seeing this time as a moment when you need to remind people that most cops are good cops, you’re invalidating that history of injustice. By invalidating it, you’re perpetuating it.

When it comes to the protests that have erupted in cities throughout America, you understand that Black people are upset about what happened to George Floyd. However, you seem most concerned with the fact that the protests have turned violent and that property is being destroyed. You’re quick to suggest that the nature of the protests makes them counterproductive and only serves to muddy the waters of any cause the protestors are fighting for. Let’s set aside the fact that there’s good reason to believe that a significant amount of the property damage is being committed by opportunists, many of them White. And let’s forget for a moment that you’ve never seemed to mind when White people destroyed property after their sports team won or lost. You dismissed that as “passion.” While we’re at it, let’s also overlook the fact that our country partly owes its beginnings to a particular property-trashing riot for which a modern Conservative movement named itself. Instead, I ask you to reflect on the words of the late Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., that “a riot is the language of the unheard”. Have you genuinely thought about what exactly Black Americans want you to hear? By focusing first on judging the nature of the protest rather than truly considering their purpose, you are once again invalidating that long history of injustice. As result, you’re becoming a part of that injustice.

More than anything, I know you have trouble understanding why it seems everything has to be about race these days. After all, police officers assault and kill White people as well. You might be thinking that the media would have largely ignored this whole thing if George Floyd were White. “Shouldn’t we be focusing on police brutality in general rather than police brutality against only Black people?” you might ask. “Why do we need a #BlackLivesMatter movement when we can have an #AllLivesMatter movement? Why can’t we just be colorblind?” The data that I covered earlier should answer that question, but if that’s not enough, let’s make it personal: Have you ever felt targeted by law enforcement because of the color of your skin? Have you ever worried that a routine traffic stop could turn violent? Have you ever had anyone call the cops on you while you were walking through your neighborhood? Have you ever had a security guard follow you around a store? Did your parents ever feel the need to sit you down and explain to you how to keep an interaction with a police officer from getting violent? Have you lost any of your friends to police brutality? Now, ask your Black friends these same questions.

While I appreciate your desire to see all people as equals, I think it’s important for you to see that your effort to be colorblind has made you blind to the plight of people of color. Black lives mattering isn’t the opposite of all lives mattering. It’s just that we can’t get to all lives mattering before we ensure that Black lives matter. Frankly, saying #AllLivesMatter in response to #BlackLivesMatter perpetuates injustice, inequality, and the abuse of Black people.

You’re probably tempted to just tune all this out. Turn off the news. Log off Twitter. Our nation is a mess, and it would be easier to ignore it all. The fact that you can entertain taking a break from thinking about all of this is a testament to your Whiteness. You really don’t have anything at stake. Regardless of the outcome of these protests, you know your life will remain the same. What’s the worst that could happen? Maybe your favorite restaurant will be destroyed by a fire. There are always other restaurants. But here’s the thing: if nothing changes, the lives of Black Americans will remain the same as well. By stepping away and not engaging, you’re directly contributing to injustice remaining the status quo. That makes you complicit.

I know this is a lot. You feel attacked. You don’t consider yourself a racist. I mean, you don’t discriminate, you don’t use slurs, and you don’t laugh at racist jokes. You find the idea of White supremacy abhorrent. Hell, you even started a student group dedicated to racial reconciliation in college! But I want you to contemplate the real possibility that the way you tend to think about these events makes you part of the problem. You’re a barrier to the progress toward equity that Black Americans are seeking. Those actions (or inactions) are racist. We don’t have to get into semantics. If you won’t accept me calling you a racist, then all I’ll say is this: you’re certainly thinking like one.

I’ll close with this. Before you begin building your case as to why you’re not contributing to the problem — or why there really isn’t a problem in the first place — just be quiet.

Black Americans are speaking loudly and clearly. If you take a moment to stop defending yourself or finding fault with those fighting for justice, you might be able to listen.

Sincerely,

Rhett

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I don’t know exactly how this adds to the conversation going on in our country. I was hesitant to write anything, as White people have a tendency to think that whatever they have to say is pretty damn important. All I know is that these words would have been helpful for me at another point in my life; a point where I was sure that I was on the side of justice but had not critically examined some of my most deeply held ideas. I hope it can be helpful to someone.

One of the most significant factors that led me to deal honestly with my own unconcious racist ideas was listening to the Black voices that have been speaking out about racial injustice. I recommend these books as a starting point:

I’m Still Here by Austin Channing Brown

So You Want to Talk About Race by Ijeoma Oluo

Stamped From the Beginning and How to Be an Antiracist by Ibram X. Kendi

The New Jim Crow by Michelle Alexander

White Rage by Carol Anderson

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