Talking About… White Fragility
In this series of conversations, Maggie and Sarita talk about our ongoing journeys shifting from “not racist” to “anti-racist.”
This conversation is from early June 2020.
Maggie: Last time you shared your experience at a protest during the uprising after George Floyd was murdered, where a speaker (a grieving mother) challenged white protesters in stark terms to make the commitment to ongoing action for change over the long haul, or not come back: “If you’re just marching today to make yourself feel better and you’re not going to come back again and again, then go home. We don’t need you. Shame, shame.”
I’m thinking about how many people in that crowd really were there to make themselves feel better, rather than to commit to doing their own deep inner work, and commit making significant inner and outer change. For so many white people, getting that kind of frank feedback and call to action causes them to fall apart — the concept of white fragility.
People need to hear that kind of frank call-out. I’m not trying to say don’t tell white people this truth. Rather, I’m trying to say to white people: when we hear feedback about racism, our behavior, or privilege we need to respond differently, now and permanently, so that we’re not spiraling into guilt, letting shame freeze us in place, or shutting down and being unwilling to process and accept these truths and change our own thoughts, beliefs and behaviors. Human brains work overtime to alleviate uncomfortable feelings and find ways to excuse or write it off or say, “No, that’s not me.” We have to be aware of that brain preference, work through it and get past it.
Sarita: You’re right — it’s so normal to rationalize our beliefs — humans are gifted at it. It cannot feel good to come face-to-face with ideas like redlining or modern segregation. Or the idea that, even if you didn’t advocate for those policies, you’ve actually benefited from them. It feels like an attack on a personal moral character. And it’s normal, but ineffective, for that to turn into defensiveness and denial and retreat.
Maggie: I want white people to stop freaking out and getting so deeply, unhelpfully defensive when we hear messages and truths that are hard to hear. There’s so many, I’m not even sure that you could list all the different types of defensive responses. But I am struck by how many people are taking the concepts of white fragility and white privilege seriously now.
Sarita: This work of understanding fragility, privilege, and racism is really complex and nuanced. Identity is complex. Thank you for bringing up the topic because I know both of us want to honor and explore these issues head-on. I’m heartened to see all these books, like How To Be an Anti-Racist, as best sellers on Amazon. It’s not a standalone victory, but it seems like a step in the right direction.
And, at the same time, I’m seeing people who consider themselves objective, but genuinely don’t believe the premise of white privilege. People who truly don’t believe that they are complicit in a racist culture, or that they have privilege.
A recent example: A white friend of mine grew up, poor, in a working-class town in Wisconsin that was almost entirely white. When “privilege” came up in our conversation, he rejected the idea: “I haven’t had privilege. I didn’t have anything better than anybody else.” What strikes me is the sense of relativity — if you only see sameness (an all-white, working class town), you don’t see yourself as someone with privilege.
Maggie: I find this outright rejection of the idea of privilege so frustrating. I get a little paralyzed when I encounter this attitude in people I work with, family, community, whomever. I find the disbelief in privilege really hard to counter. I’m seeking continued better ways to influence around that.
Sarita: “Privilege” is a term that can put people on the defensive — “How can you possibly tell me my identity is privileged? You have no idea how hard I’ve worked.” The implication of “privilege” might be that someone has had it “easy.” It’s a false implication. It needs the understanding that being black comes with additional hurdles you didn’t have to climb, that society is set up to treat you differently because of the color of your skin.
It reminds me of the “All Lives Matter” counterargument. My husband told me about some wisdom he’d heard from the singer, Billie Eilish. When she hears All Lives Matter as a counter to Black Lives Matter she asks people to think of it this way: Say you have a neighborhood full of houses, and some of the houses are on fire. Yes, all houses matter. But these houses are on fire — we have to focus on saving these houses. I’m so impressed by that analogy.
I share your frustration when people deny that they have skin color privilege or when they shut down. At one of the protests, I heard a speaker say, “I’m so sick of white fragility. I’m so sick of dancing around the issue because I don’t want to offend you and alienate you. I’m done.”
Maggie: It’s not unreasonable to ask people with privilege to get a thicker skin.
Sarita: The audience at the protest was open to it. That’s probably the place to start: with people who are already open to these shifts in how we think.
This is a good transition into your recent experience when you were canvassing. You want to talk about that next time?
Maggie: Yes, absolutely. It’s a shocking story and also sadly pretty common for people raising their voice against the status quo. Looking forward to telling you about it.
