I am a racist.
Because I really, really do not want to, I need to say that, to confess this horrible truth. If you know me or have read anything I have written, you know this is very difficult for me to say. And yet . . . I have to say it:
I am racist.
I do not project negative qualities onto another person based on the color of their skin or my perception of their ethnicity. I want justice for every person of color who has suffered violence at the hands of racial inequality. I rage against racial profiling and rail against our prison, police and educational institutions and their perpetuation of racial disparity. I choose my friends based on the quality of their character and never on their cultural categorization. If I am inherently prejudiced against anyone, my vitriol is directed at white people with money. So how can I be a racist?
In John Metta’s recent essay, "I, Racist" (a transcription of a speech he gave) he addresses a specific form of white denial of which I am guilty: Yes racism exists, but no, I am not racist. White people cannot even hear a discussion of race until the person of color has absolved us of responsibility and guilt, which inherently negates any honest discussion of the existence of the racist system. And without such absolution, we label the speaker as “angry” or accuse them of “pulling the race card.” When we point over there to “those racists”, not a single one of us can simultaneously accept the responsibility of “I, racist.”
Mr. Metta destroyed my self-perception, exposed my hypocrisy, and made me feel like a horrible and ignorant degenerate. And he was correct.
I am white. I live a life of white privilege. Therefore, I am, inherently and undeniably, a racist.
Just writing those words makes me want to vomit. I want to delete them. I want to deny and back peddle and prove you wrong for reading them. I want you to know that I am better than that. But I will not, because it is the truth. Life is easier in America for white people. For me. To live within that privilege, as I do, is racist.
I openly and willingly benefit from a racist system. I have acquired the life I lead free of any obstacles of race. From getting into college to entering predominantly white field to securing housing when I had very little income, because I am not a person of color, I have been able to thrive within multiple national mechanisms designed for white people. I walk down any street in any town and not a single person is suspicious of my intentions. I have traveled all over the world and entered countries where a white smile and a blue passport meant access to anything I wanted. I have never had to prove that I act, or seem, or speak “white enough” to secure anything in my life.
And by taking advantage of these opportunities, I agree to the system as it is. I move through this world unencumbered, absorbing the freedoms given to me via the color of my skin and the perception in America that White=Normal. I have no right to claim I wish to end racism when I know that nothing perpetuates a system more than participation. It is broken, and by not demanding it be fixed, I support the continuation of that system. More so, through my actions, I feed and insist upon its continuation. And that is inherently racist. I am inherently racist.
The intrinsic and seemingly unbreakable racism in this country needs to be addressed, and it needs to start with an honest examination within each individual white person. Until I can admit to, own and commit to changing the racism within me, there will be no change to the system without. I have to stop telling black people about where racism is not, and admit to where it is: inside myself.
Do you hear the lips pursing? See the white heads starting to move back and forth?
To say that I’m automatically racist because I’m white? Well THAT is racist!
No, it is not, because other than my hurt feelings and bruised liberal ego, there are no consequences. I suffer no indignities and I bear no impediments. I cannot be a victim of racism if I endure nothing as a result.
I hear all this talk about white privilege, but I work for everything I have! I was not handed anything in life.
I have worked really hard my whole life. Participation in a racist system does not mean I am lazy or underserving of my accomplishments, but it does mean that I am complicit in my whiteness as an advantage. It does mean that I agreed to accept the benefits of being white. It does mean that I am racist. And my racism is more subtle, more deeply ingrained and, perhaps, more insidious.
So what do I do? How do I change? The only thing I know, thanks to John Metta's profound and difficult words, is that I need to shut up and listen.
When a person of color brings up an issue of race, I should not speak about myself or my experiences. I do not - cannot - understand what it means to grow up and live as a non-white person in this supposed land of the free, and I have spent so much time proving my own non-racism that I have fallen deaf. We have to stop talking and take a moment to hear. When I feel the need to deny or deflect those accusations I perceive, I need to just close my mouth and attend the experiences of another, and perhaps then I can address the racism ingrained in my upbringing and my skewed and privileged perception.
And yes, I understand that by writing this essay I am participating in the system of denial referenced by Mr. Metta through the implication that I have risen above my internalized racism and found a path toward equality within my own thoughts and actions. But I have not. I do not know how to change myself or our racist world. At this point, all I have to offer is this:
I am a racist. And I am sorry.