What I Learned Standing Up To A Racist.
And Why We Can’t Be Silent Any Longer.
“That guy, [Jacob] Blake, is trash personified, one more criminal the ignorant left and their media enablers excuse while throwing our men in blue under the bus.”
I reread these words over and over, hoping that I was misreading them.
These words were written by a fellow writer on a political news website. These hateful words were uttered by someone I had respected, despite our political differences.
I was shocked to see an ordinarily level-headed writer use such hateful, racially motivated language to describe a black man who was shot. But alas, it made it past our editors and onto the website.
I chose to stand up against racism in my workplace, and the results were illuminating.
Why I Hesitated
In the workplace, Black people are expected to continuously ignore insults, sweep stereotypes under the rug, and sympathize with racism. We’re trained not to make waves or play the race card “too much.” We learn to censor ourselves to maintain our status in a white-dominant society.
I have been in situations where I have chosen to stay silent when a racist comment is made. We even mask our hurt by labeling them ‘microaggressions.’
A lot of people hear ‘microaggressions,’ and they think, “Oh, it’s just the little things that hurt people’s feelings,” said Roberto Montenegro, a chief fellow in child and adolescent psychiatry at Seattle Children’s Hospital. Montenegro has made a career studying the biological effects of discrimination.
“It isn’t about having your feelings hurt. It’s about how being repeatedly dismissed and alienated and insulted and invalidated reinforces the differences in power and privilege, and how this perpetuates racism and discrimination.”
Let’s be clear there is nothing “micro” about racism.
With everything else that happened this summer, the Jacob Blake shooting hit me incredibly hard. It seems we can’t get off this never-ending carousel ride, where racial injustice and police brutality collide tragically.
As I read the words posted by my colleague, I couldn’t stay silent any longer.
Gone were my internal codes of conduct and censors, shaped by years of being “the only” or “one of the few” Black people in my workplace.
I had to say something.
“You’re Better Than This”
In my commentary the next day, I called the writer out by name and gave him the opportunity to walk back his words.
“Very interested to see how Chris M. spins this story, who described Jacob Blake as “trash personified.” Chris M., our readers, deserve an explanation for your disgusting and racially motivated use of such defamatory language. Your words matter, and you’re better than this.”
I chose my words carefully. I still wasn’t comfortable labeling this writer a racist, so instead, I decided to use the softer term “racially-motivated.” I appealed to his sense of decency and the obligation to our readers by reminding him that he was “better than this.”
Unfortunately, instead of admitting to the error of his ways, he not only reiterated these words but chose to attack me for questioning his fragile reputation as a white man.
To my line of questioning, he began his reply with,
“We’ve already seen you, sit back and not say a word when another liberal writer trash-talked Trump fans and personally insulted two conservative writers here. Similarly, not a word from you when that same writer attacked the police, saying police don’t deserve our feelings and worse.”
Instead of attempting to hold me accountable for my words, he condemned me for not calling out one of our colleagues for her inflammatory language.
This is a classic move we see when someone is confronted with their biases and internalized racism.
A lot of white individuals think the concept of being racist is a moral judgment. They feel that if they acknowledge that they’re racist, they’re morally a bad person. This fear is part of “white fragility” — the defensiveness many whites experience when their understanding of race is challenged.
His defence continued,
“I’ll double down right now…Blake is trash; I don’t care what color he is. He had a responsibility to take the least risky action for their well being, and instead, he chose the most risky action. If you think that’s racist, or dehumanizing, so be it.”
But It Is About Color
In response, I questioned what he thought of Kyle Rittenhouse, a white Blue Lives Matter supporter, accused of murdering two people and injuring another at a Kenosha protest.
“The problem with race in America is perfectly seen in your arguments over the past few days,” I stated.
“A black man who doesn’t listen to the police is “trash personified.”
A white teen, who is part of a movement you support is ….
We don’t know how you feel because you couldn’t even bring yourself to condemn his actions.”
What made this situation even worse was the way our employer chose to handle this situation.
One of our policies on the website states,
Do not dehumanize anybody. It is unacceptable to refer to any person or group in terms that designate them as sub-human.
Calling someone “trash personified” is a term that designates them as sub-human. It was mentioned to leadership that he was in clear violation of the policy, to which we received zero response. This active passivity from leadership only encouraged the writer.
If you have a policy that prohibits derogatory language in the workplace, don’t make your Black employees repeatedly remind you of the policy, enforce it.
If you are a leader or in a position of power, make your company, non-profit, or website safe for your Black employees. Your employees should not be fearful of retribution if they dare to call out hateful and offensive language.
What I Learned
The personal attacks and backlash from questioning his racist comments have been eye-opening. The fact that I even questioned his motives made me the target of several personal attacks aimed at discrediting me because I was young and Black. He believed that if he could shame me and impugn my character, it would make his comments less hateful. For many, it’s easier to attack a Black person’s credibility than face their racist motivations.
This is what Black people fight against when we speak up.
Black people have allowed “microaggressions” and overt racism to flourish for too long, making racist comfortable.
I do not regret standing up to this racist. But I now understand why there is a culture in the black community of “willful compliance” and a trained avoidance of standing up against racism and discrimination in the workplace.
We need to change this culture, and speaking out about it is the first step.
Unfortunately, I learned that ignoring racism is more comfortable than confronting it, but that’s no excuse.
Black people and our allies, don’t be afraid to stand up against racism or discrimination in the workplace. We’re all counting on you.
The culture of Black silence and fear of confronting racism has to end.
