Cultural Tools vs. Christian Tools (Part 1)

As white Americans, we are not particularly good at discussing issues of race and racism. Speaking particularly of white evangelical Christians, my experience is that we are even worse than the average white American. We are not used to openly and honestly addressing America’s “original sin.” As a result, when we do try to discuss it, we are poorly prepared and end up having conversations that are not only unhelpful, but actually become harmful.

The real tragedy is that, as Christians, we have powerful tools available that can allow us to productively confront racism — practices that, if intentionally cultivated, can help us be part of the solution, rather than perpetuating the problem. Jesus did not stay away from issues of race and ethnicity in his own society, and the early Church had to deal with those questions over and over again. But without intentional discipleship on what the Gospel teaches, we are forced to rely upon the tools we have been given by the culture around us — tools that are generally designed to reinforce the status quo, rather than tools that allow the love of Jesus Christ to change us and change our culture.

If we want to improve, we need to:

1. Acknowledge the tools that we are currently using, and the problems that they present.
2. Replace them with a set of Christian tools that allow us to speak more faithfully around racial issues as followers of Jesus.

The first step is recognizing the default options we are taught to go to in order to prevent having honest discussions about racism. We have to identify how, as white Americans, we have been ‘discipled’ into a culture that wants us to be blind to the inequities that exist. Here are some of the responses that we fall back on — and why we need to replace them with other approaches.

1. Downplay the extent of the problem.

Racism may not seem like it’s a big problem to white people. That’s not because it isn’t a major issue; it’s because we’re not the victims, and are often able to completely cut ourselves off from facing the consequences of our nation’s racism. Racial segregation is such a powerful force because, when we don’t have people with other experiences that are part of our social networks, we don’t know what their perspective is, and we can be kept entirely in the dark about what is, and isn’t, a big problem.

The truth is, it’s a major issue. There are still huge racial disparities in housing, education, employment, wealth, police treatment — and that list could continue. The most important thing to realize is that, if someone else is telling us that they are facing a problem, it’s not our right to dismiss them out of hand because that’s not our experience. As white Americans, we are not on the receiving end of racist treatment, and cannot dictate to those who are how they should feel about it. We need to listen, learn, and realize how serious it is, and then take action to do something about it.

2. Treat it as though it were a historical issue, not a contemporary one.

“But slavery ended 150 years ago!” We love to distance ourselves from some of the worst realities of what racism has done in this country, and then say that because we’re not that bad anymore, we’re beyond racism. Whether it’s the Civil War or the Civil Rights Movement, or even more recently the election of Barack Obama as President, we as white people are happy to declare that racism is over.

It’s not. Racism still dictates who has access to financing, and who was — and was not — foreclosed during the recent housing crisis. Racism continues to determine rates of incarceration. Our neighborhoods and our schools are still racially segregated, and disinvestment in black communities continues to be a major problem. This is an ongoing issue. Saying that it’s not as bad as it was during slavery, when African-Americans were literally considered nothing more than property, in no way, shape or form diminishes the fact that it is still a present reality. Again, we cannot simply decide that we think we’re doing better, and then dismiss the experience of those who are currently being excluded from the system.

3. Sideline the concern.

Whenever there is a protest about racial issues, there is inevitably a significant number of people who want to talk about anything except for the actual subject of the protest. The highway gets shut down because people are marching on the streets? Let’s talk about the traffic congestion that causes — not the person who died. Someone is taking a knee during the national anthem to bring attention to police brutality issues? Let’s talk about how disrespectful that is to veterans (without talking to veterans, who in many cases have supported these protests).

We can’t just change the subject because we don’t like what other people have to say. If you’re uncomfortable with hearing what people are saying about their own lived experiences and what is happening in their own communities, it’s not because there’s anything wrong with what they’re saying — or how they’re saying it. It’s because you need to learn from what they’re telling you. Focus on the topic at hand, and discuss the actual problem — not the way in which it has inconvenienced you or offended your sensibilities.

4. Make racism about personal attitudes.

“I’m not a racist.” We often get into our minds that racism has mostly to do with people who are specifically, and blatantly, racially prejudiced in their attitudes. If that’s the case, then as long as we don’t have those types of beliefs, or have ill will towards African-Americans, then we are in the clear and we can ‘absolve’ ourselves of racism. However, the truth is, your attitudes don’t really matter. One way or the other. Addressing racism is about dealing with the actual experiences of racial discrimination, which may or may not have anything to do with any one person being ‘racist.’

To give one example of what this looks like — in Maryland, the Governor canceled a major transit project that would have primarily served black neighborhoods in Baltimore City, and then used that money to widen highways that go through primarily white communities. Instead of making sure that people in West Baltimore — where many households are transit-dependent — can get to jobs, he made it possible to get to the Delaware beaches a few minutes faster. Did he do that because he personally doesn’t like black people? Probably not. Does that matter? Not even a little bit. The fact remains that the decision continued a legacy of well over a century of choosing not to invest in majority-black neighborhoods, and the people who needed that transit access will not be getting it. Whether it was antipathy or just apathy, the impact is what matters.

If we want to develop better tools for discussing racism, the first step is to recognize that our cultural reflex is to stop the conversation. We need to overcome that reflex, and learn to listen to what we are being told. When we do that, we can then start engaging with Gospel-centered ways of addressing racism.