How to talk about race, while white
Talking about race can be difficult and uncomfortable. It’s also essential, especially for white people.
I’ll say at the outset, as a white man, I am on a journey of becoming antiracist. That means that I am not merely passively opposed to racism, but I am actively working to identify and fight it. It’s not a journey with an endpoint.
I am working to figure out how I can help deconstruct racist systems, recognizing that I have (consciously or not) contributed to their perpetuation. I want to say very clearly that I don’t have any of this figured out. I am and will always be learning. Making mistakes. Trying again. Trying to make fewer and less egregious mistakes as I progress. This post is offered in that spirit.
“There is no neutrality in the racism struggle. The opposite of racist isn’t ‘not racist.’ It is ‘antiracist.’ . . . One either allows racial inequities to persevere as a racist, or one confronts racial inequities as an antiracist. There is no in-between safe space of ‘not racist.’ The claim of ‘not-racist’ neutrality is a mask for racism.”
Ibram X. Kendi, “How to Be an Antiracist”
My partner and I recently hosted a dinner for the express purpose of talking about race and racism. We invited a multi-racial group of friends who all wanted to read and discuss The 1619 Project by the New York Times.
I wanted to create a space for honest, constructive, healthy, and safe discussion of race and racism. That is not easy to do, and I don’t feel like I fully succeeded. Before and after that discussion, I’ve been reflecting on how white people can contribute to what I’m calling “Conversational Equity”– the ability for people from different racial groups to participate in a conversation on equitable terms.
Maybe that idea sounds overthought, but in any conversation and particularly in conversations about race, we have to give consideration and weight to the imbalance of power that pervades our society. That imbalance of power, where white people are advantaged over people of other races, permeates everything, even and maybe especially, our conversations about race. It’s one of the central reasons that talking about race is fraught with challenges, especially in multi-racial groups.
So, here is my evolving list of “loving suggestions” for my own people, white people, involved in conversations about race, especially when there are people of color in the conversation. These are based on my learning and observations so far in my journey. If you have other ground rules or suggestions for healthy conversations about race, I would love to hear about them.
First Rule: DO talk about race
The first rule of Anti-Racist Club is “Please DO talk about race and racism.” It’s uncomfortable and unfamiliar for most white people to talk about race. We tend to pause and stammer before using racial words because we’ve been so conditioned NOT to use them. But it is essential for us to engage in these conversations. We can’t understand it if we don’t talk about it.
Own our whiteness
As white people, we sometimes think that race is something other people have. We treat whiteness as the default or the norm. Consequently, we tend not to think about our own racial identity very much. But of course, our race has real implications both for ourselves and for people of other races. It’s important that we think about and identify our racial identity, just as people of color are forced to, so that we can begin to level the relational playing field.
Accept our own racism
Absolutely the hardest thing for me in talking about race is accepting the fact that I have racism within me. As they taught us in the Racial Equity Institute training, “We live in a system, and the system lives in us.” Coming to grips with that is the hardest part of this work and these conversations for me. I haven’t yet come to terms with it, honestly. I’m not sure how to. But acknowledging that it’s there is a prerequisite for having constructive conversations.
“We live in a system and the system lives in us.”
W.A.I.T. — Why Am I Talking?
I recently learned this acronym from a colleague during an unconference discussion about what it means to be an effective ally. It’s probably the single most useful piece of advice I’ve received on how to approach these conversations. I try to apply it to all of the situations where I find myself in multi-racial groups. It is a reminder to listen more than I talk, but also to make sure when I do have something to contribute, I do it with a clear understanding of its import and purpose. When I feel the impulse to talk, I ask myself, “Does this need to be said? Does it need to be said now? Am I the best person to say it?”
Be brief
When I do have something to contribute, I try to be as succinct and to-the-point as possible. This is not easy for me, because I like words and nuanced expression. But every moment that I use is a moment that someone else cannot. Even if I sacrifice a little nuance or don’t get to fully say everything that’s on my mind, it’s worth it to make space for others to speak.
Understand our words can harm
White people need to understand that just the act of having these conversations, however well-intentioned, can evoke pain, anger, and trauma for people of color. It’s easy for us to upset or even harm someone. Be alert and sensitive to signs of this. If you do harm, acknowledge it and take responsibility. Own your impact, not just your intent. Listen to the reaction and hold onto it as something to reflect on. Resist the urge to clarify or defend yourself in the moment.
Don’t center yourself
The conversation isn’t about you. If you have a relevant personal story to tell, tell it, but don’t make yourself the hero or the point of the story. And if a person of color tells a story from their own experience, resist the urge to respond to it with a story of your own. Let their story stand, ask questions, encourage them to expand on their story.
Embrace new patterns
The story-after-story conversational pattern is one that’s common among peers. When a group of white people are in conversation, the racial dynamics in our society create relative peer power parity. But in a multi-racial group, the racist power imbalance is present. Telling your story after their story can be an act of erasure. The same conversational patterns that work well in other settings may not work in these conversations. Develop new conversational patterns that recognize and offset the power imbalance.
Educate yourself
A common dynamic in multi-racial groups is for white people to ask or expect the people of color to educate them about race and racism. That expectation may place an emotional burden on people of color, and it’s a burden that many of them are tired of carrying. Understand that nobody owes you that education. We need to do our own work. Read books. Watch videos. Listen to podcasts. Follow activists, authors, and other leaders of color on social media. Grow your understanding of racism and anti-racist thought, so that you aren’t asking your conversational partners to bear a bigger burden than they already are.
Stow your credentials
Resist the urge to demonstrate your progressive or anti-racist credentials. Don’t waste everybody’s time explaining that “you’re one of the good ones.” Although that impulse can stem from a desire to create a safe space and let people of color know they’re “among friends,” you can demonstrate and create that safe space better by simply listening and engaging respectfully. That action will trump any self-proclamation of your attitudes and beliefs.
Stay engaged
When we cause harm or offense, or when someone points out racism implicit in something we said or did, one common defensive response is to pull back and disengage from the conversation. Please don’t. Disengagement is a manifestation of white fragility and an exercise in privilege. We have the luxury of disengaging from discomfort around race. Those moments are the ones loaded with the most potential for growth. Stay in the conversation. Lean in. Listen intently. Give yourself the material and space for reflection and growth.
Recognize strengths and assets
It’s SO easy when talking about race to focus on the deficits, the disparities, and the inequities. Those are things that cause many of us to want to talk about race in the first place. But focusing only on the deficits can reinforce the power imbalances and stereotypes of racism. Early on in my anti-racist journey, a friend challenged me by asking if I saw assets in the black community as well as deficits. The question has stuck with me. I’d been so focused on the inequities and challenges, that I wasn’t giving appreciation to the strengths and assets in black culture. I am much more aware of those positives now.
Keep trying
Having conversations about race is daunting and uncomfortable work. I’ve found, though, that it does get easier over time. I’ve overcome a lot of my own discomfort, and I’ve built up my own stamina. The rewards are abundant–authentic friendships, deeper understanding of history and the world, a perspective on how race has shaped my life, and a clearer view of my place and role in our system.
One of our dinner guests said that she believes that change happens at the scale of our dinner, with people coming together, sharing food and themselves. I believe that. I also believe that in settings like these, we have an opportunity to create the world we want to live in. Even if it’s only in a dining room, for a dinner, for a small group of friends. Maybe that is the way it happens though. Maybe that is the way we begin to bring about the world we want to live in.
More Resources on Talking about Race
How to talk about race without making a complete ass of yourself
10 lessons on talking about race in the age of Obama
Doing Our Homework
