“I’m Not Racist”

Image from https://www.earwolf.com/show/yo-is-this-racist/.

After a Minneapolis police officer was caught kneeling on the neck of George Floyd, ultimately killing him, many of us White people across the U.S.—and the world—were confronted with the reality that racism is running unchecked throughout the country. The quaint idea of the “equally obtainable” American dream for everyone, an illusion which still seduces some of my own family members, was shattered for many as we confronted the dissonance between our ideals as a nation and the actions of those who have sworn to serve and protect all of us. Many of us, myself included, woke up for the first time and realized we must be more vocal. We’ve been safe bystanders for too long while our friends and family of color are targeted outside supermarkets, inside their homes, or playing in the park.

Floyd’s death wasn’t the only recent event where an unarmed Black person was murdered by White police or White neighbors. In February, Ahmud Arbury, who was taking a jog in Georgia, was shot in the street by White men who called him a “F****** N*****.” 2020 has already been the deadliest year for Black transgender and non-binary people, with 22 known murders thus far. In March, Monika Diamond, a Black trans 34 year-old woman who was the co-CEO of an organization that honored parents of LGBTQ youth, was shot after being placed in an ambulance for shortness of breath. On July 3rd, Bree Black, a Black trans woman was shot to death in Pompano Beach, Florida. All of these people lost their lives because of racism—and yet, most of us won’t use this word.

I’ve just started reading Ibram X. Kendi’s New York Times Bestseller, How To Be An Antiracist, and he names something that I recognize from conversations with family members—and even in my own self-reflection. This is some of what he has to say about racism:

‘Racist’ is not… a pejorative. It is not the worst word in the English language; it is not the equivalent of a slur. It is descriptive, and the only way to undo racism is to constant identify and describe it—and then dismantle it. (page 9)

Self-Reflection

Have you ever been called racist after something you said?

How did you feel?

Why did you feel that way?

Was it because being a racist is bad and you’re not bad?

Is it possible that you messed up—that you did say something that promoted the idea that one community is inferior to another?

Is it possible you did say something racist?

If so, now what?

As I’ve grown in my own journey of public speaking, I’ve realized that being called out is an essential part of the process. Do I like it, hell no. Do I crumble into an emotional ball behind my iPhone and wish I had never spoken up in the first place—sometimes. But after a few hurt feelings, I realize that it’s not about me. Most people don’t call someone out because they dislike them personally, they’re just correcting them. The movement for justice is so much larger than anyone of us, and my White fragility, my wanting to be oh-so-careful not to say anything wrong to people of color, to prove how affirming I am, and my relying on these same people of color to educate me, correct me, and console me after being called out (which is wrong)—only slows the movement for racial justice. We cannot allow our hurt feelings to get in the way of the movement, or to rely on the marginalized community to hold our grief alongside theirs. I’ve learned to listen to the comment, really mediate on it, repent for my failure, and then I educate myself so that I don’t make the same mistake twice.

So, Should We Say Racist?

If you did the self-reflection above, then maybe you realized we’ve come to associate the term racist with being a bad person. As Dr. Kendi points out, “… racist and antiracist are not fixed identities. We can be a racist one minute and an antiracist the next. What we say about race, what we do about race, in each moment, determines what—not who—we are” (page 10). I was on the phone talking about the difference in COVID response between the U.S. and many European countries when the conversation abruptly moved to placing blame: “We need to tell the Chinese to stop spreading their viruses. It’s because of their bad hygiene,” the person on the other end of the call said. “That’s a racist comment,” I said. “I’m not racist,” they responded, and the conversation ended. But it shouldn’t have ended there. I needed to explain that they may not be a racist, but what they said was in fact racist.

Dr. Kendi writes, “This connecting of biology to behavior is the cradle of biological racism—it leads to biological ranking of the races and the supposition that the biology of certain races yields superior behavioral traits, like intelligence” (page 53). When the person on the phone generalized all people from China as unsanitary, they supported the racist idea that Chinese people are inferior to people in the U.S., which really means that people of Asian descent are inferior to White people—a racial hierarchy. Even if the person on the phone didn’t realize this connection, they were perpetuating a racist idea, and it had to be called out. A racist is, as Dr. Kendi defines it, “One who is supporting a racist policy through their actions or inaction or expressing a racist idea” (page 13).

Racist ideas are those that view one race, one population of humanity, as inferior to another. Rather than seeing difference as difference, a racist idea is that the other is bad and mine is good. So, when we feel these reactions rise within us, we must label them what they are: racist. We can’t allow ourselves to wallow in this self-pity for too long asking, “Oh gosh, am I a racist?” We confront these thoughts, repent of them, educate ourselves, and correct others who make the same mistakes so that one day we might all be free. So, use the term. Call out racists statements, actions, and policies. Educate your friends and family. Listen to people of color. Together, when we all rise up to fight racism, we engage in the intersectional struggle for justice—against homophobia, transphobia, ageism, sexism, ableism and all those isms that keep us from experiencing Heaven on Earth.

Now, let’s go and keep building Heaven together!