White person, disgusted

A Surviving Facts Blog

I wrote my blog, “White People Don’t Get It,” after a sleepless night of wrestling with the current state of our country. I’m writing again because our country continues to be in an ugly, biased and violent place.

Since writing the previous blog, I’ve seen Brown immigrants tortured, imprisoned and murdered— one of them in front of his 3-year-old child. I’ve learned the EEOC— the government agency created to protect workers from workplace discrimination—has rewritten their guidance to deny that systemic racism, sexism and other group biases exist. I’ve watched young, Black men be attacked and killed only because of the color of their skin. I’ve watched the so-called Secretary of War prevent promotions of female and Black soldiers for no reason other than prejudice.

What the giant F is wrong with white people? It is white people making these decisions, after all.

What’s happening in our country right now is an attempted recreation of the Jim Crow era. The focus on limiting and harming Black and Brown peoples’ “life, liberty and pursuit of happiness” is happening around us. They are being denied opportunities for advancement in our military. They are increasingly subjected to racist rhetoric and acts; indeed, hate crimes have soared under Trump. Our friends of color are now unsafe in nearly all American spaces, except possibly their own homes. We white people have allowed this to happen.

I can already hear the defensive white, male response— I always hear from them. They will say, “I haven’t done anything,” or “my family wasn’t here during slavery,” or “not all white people.” Some will definitely attack me because my picture depicts me as a white person (interestingly, Hitler would not have considered me white). These champions of fragile white, male egos will say: “you’re a white woman. What gives you the right to speak on racism?”

Here’s what gives me the right: my eyes are open. I cannot deny what I am seeing. I cannot ignore the rise of white, Christian nationalism or the FBI’s determination that left-leaning groups are terrorists while the KKK, Proud Boys and other like groups are not. I cannot pretend that Hegseth is not whitewashing the military. I refuse to deny Trump’s record of racism (for those who refuse to believe: years before he was a political figure, New York City sued him for bias against Blacks in his housing developments. NYC won.) I will not look away when another Black boy becomes the victim of white, male “buddies”— yes, I’m referring to Nolan Wells. And here’s one more: I cannot forgive the whites who voted for the administration that has allowed this hatred to rise and the 25-30% who continue to support it.

In “How to be an antiracist,” Ibram X. Kendi argues that the opposite of racism is not non-racism, but anti-racism. Non-racism and anti-racism are not synonymous. Non-racism pretends racism does not currently exist or that a possible future without racism exists. This is the premise from which Trump and his administration are acting. The EEOC’s proclamation that group-based racism no longer exists does not make group-based inequality go away. Instead, it buries racism into the crevices of our society like dirt between floorboards. It’s there, and it’s hard to get out.

Anti-racism, on the other hand, asserts that no middle ground with racism exists: one is either actively working against racism or allowing it to exist through inaction. Kendi, whose book has been banned throughout Florida and in other MAGA enclaves, argued that confronting and preventing racial inequality is the only way to move us beyond America’s racist roots. After all, even the revered “fathers” of our nation allowed slave holding. President Washington had slaves, as did Jefferson, who also impregnated his female slave, likely against her will. Being antiracist, Kendi says “requires persistent self-awareness, constant self-criticism, and regular self-examination.”

I confronted my own racism through this kind of self analysis. I grew up in Tulsa, Oklahoma, what I now know is the site of one of the most atrocious acts of racism in America. When I grew up, North Tulsa was the “black side of town.” I was never told why. Not until I moved to New York City at 21 years’ old did I learn about the decimation of Tulsa’s “Black Wall Street” on the North side of town, one of the most thriving Black communities in America at the time. White men burned this commerce center completely down, destroying this North Tulsa historic neighborhood for decades. I saw North Tulsa as a dilapidated side of town, largely populated by Black people. Safe in my South Tulsa upper middle class house in my upper middle class neighborhood, I rarely came face to face with Black people. My high school, briefly, had one Black person. One. Out of this limited and segregated experience, I believed growing up that Tulsa was not a racist community, that we were in a post-racist society. I mistook the absence of Black people from my daily experience as a coincidence of location rather than an outcome of terrorism and city planning. Black people chose to live in North Tulsa, just as white people chose to live South.

I did not have any personal awareness of racism. Because my parents tried not to have racist beliefs, I was taught about racism and bias. My mother— in a decidedly anti-racist move— once sent a playmate home for using the “N” word. She then sat me down to explain why this girl could not be my friend or come over again. I understood well enough to cease this friendship. But these lessons alone are not enough. My complete ignorance of racism in my community, my naive belief in absence signaling coincidence or choice— these demonstrated buried racism that had to be eradicated from my mindset.

To be anti-racist, a person must know and acknowledge that racism exists. Denial and ignorance allow racism to breed and fester. When I learned about Black Wall Street and its violent ending, I had what Oprah calls “a light bulb moment.” I saw why Tulsa was split between white and Black communities. I had no Black neighborhoods and schoolmates because they were economically, socially and culturally prevented from moving to South Tulsa. Even more, I realized how terrifying South Tulsa would be for Black families— for reference, see all the violent acts against Black people living in primarily white communities. For the first time in my life, I understood “systemic.” Racism was more than personal belief— I did not believe racial inequality should exist, after all. Rather, racism is part of every institution, community and culture in America. It’s the hard-to-identify, regular-looking poisonous mushroom in a basket of other mushrooms. You cannot eat any of them because one can poison them all.

This awareness is why I see racism so clearly now. The scales, to use an ancient analogy, have fallen from my eyes. It’s everywhere— in the words white people speak, in the planning of our cities, the creation and execution of our laws, in access to money, education and opportunity, and more. If you, white person, cannot see this, then you are a racist. Yes, I said what I said. Denial exists alongside racism.

This is why I know that voting MAGA is a racist act, even if someone is a Black MAGA (Kendi talks about his own racism against Black people). This is how I know Trump cannot leave his racist past behind— he has no ability for self reflection, admitting mistakes and learning lessons, all of which are necessary for antiracism. This is how I know our current administration is taking definite steps to rebuild segregation and inequality in our country. This is how I know that attacking immigration is a systematic attempt to de-color America. So is the anti-abortion movement. This is why I see danger for our Black and Brown brethren. I am terrified for them.

If you, white person, are not speaking out against racism, you are aiding it and allowing it to grow. Anti-racism is action. If I’ve made you uncomfortable, good. There is no other way we can move forward to build an America that is truly free for all.

I would love to hear from you, even if, especially if, you disagree. Perhaps we can bring back the American tradition of debate. Please like and share this blog with others. Subscribe to receive it by email and go directly to the Walk the Moon website (www.walk-the-moon.com) to peruse the full collection of articles and updates. You can email me from the Walk the Moon website as well.