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Acknowledge and Own Whiteness

In a recent training session with a faith-based group, a female pastor shared as part of the debrief of a self-awareness identity exercise that she never thinks about her race. One of the African American participants retorted that he always thinks about his race. It was a defining moment in the session. The white woman went on to say that she tries not to notice race—that she wants to bring neutrality to the dialogue and race doesn’t matter to her. The African American participant responded that race always matters and invited her to not only notice it but to learn more about racial dynamics. In another session, participants were asked to name four aspects of their identity that are most important to them. A white woman said: “Five years ago I would not have included ‘privileged white woman’ as important to my identity. I am learning how my whiteness shapes how I see the world and that I am a part of a system, even if I don’t like it or intentionally perpetuate it, that keeps whites in the dominant position.” She went on to share that she grew up in a white, liberal environment and thought that because she harbored no racist views, that was enough. She in essence defined race as something Blacks had, not her—she unconsciously perceived herself as “raceless.”

These two examples summarize the issue: white people, by and large, do not see themselves as a part of a race. One of the reasons we are stuck and not making more progress in inclusion is the oblivion on the part of too many white people of how their whiteness is pervasive, dominant, and impedes progress toward inclusion, equity, and belonging. This is not about denigrating white people. It is about acknowledging the basic ontology of a deeply embedded system that normalizes white people. We can talk about whiteness only in the context of Blackness and vice versa. If race did not exist, there would be nothing to discuss, no comparisons to make. It is this racial binary that is at the crux of how all of US society is structured. Let’s face it, the history of race in the US context is really about Blacks and whites. Acknowledging that “white” is a social construct with its own ontology is critical for meaningful, inclusive conversations.

Other countries have had their own history with racial dynamics that have played out differently based on their politics, economics, and attitudes toward race. For the purposes of this chapter, I focus on US racial dynamics. The very notion of “whiteness” can be so controversial for some white people that they might reject the idea before giving it due consideration. Whiteness is not negative. It just is. Actually, the paradox is that white people created the racial hierarchy, and many now deny that it exists. We have to get comfortable talking about race to have inclusive conversations.

A Brief History of Race and Racism in the United States

People have not always been classified by skin color. As a matter of fact, scientists assert that race is a social construct with little biological distinction. The word “race” first appeared in the English language in 1508 in a poem by William Dunbar referring to a line of kings.¹ Throughout much of human history, societies have enslaved others, often as a result of conquest or war, even debt, but not because of physical characteristics or a belief in natural inferiority. Due to a unique set of historical circumstances, the United States was the first system where all the enslaved people eventually shared similar physical characteristics.

However, that was not always the case. In the early years of the American colony, many Africans and poor whites worked side-by-side as indentured servants. Black and white men who broke their servant contract were equally punished. As indentured servants both Blacks and whites were allowed to buy their freedom. Historically, the English enslaved only non-Christians, and not, in particular, Africans. An enslaved person could become free by converting to Christianity. This meant that the indentured servant workforce was not permanent, and as it started to dwindle, the landowners had to find another way to ensure a stable workforce for the plantations. Thereafter they decided to use a status that was not changeable—skin color. Enslaved people, especially those who could be identified by skin color, could not move on and compete with the slave owners as white indentured servants could. Thus, the system of racial slavery was institutionalized around 1676.

To continue to justify enslaving Blacks throughout the centuries, theories of “scientific racism” became widespread and generally accepted. Numerous books and articles were written during the four-hundred-year period of slavery that Blacks were biologically inferior, possessing lower IQs, and closer to monkeys than other humans. Vestiges of theories of Black inferiority based on “scientific proof” haunt us today. Consider the previously mentioned cancellation of Rosanne Barr’s sitcom after she used an ape analogy in a tweet about Valerie Jarrett, an African American presidential adviser. This act led to the cancellation of her television sitcom. Or the white supremacist Dylann Roof, who in 2015 went into an African American church in Charleston, South Carolina, and killed nine Black worshippers. In the crude manifesto he posted on the Internet in 2015, he wrote: “Negroes have lower IQ’s, lower impulse control, and higher testosterone levels in general. These three things alone are a recipe for violent behavior.”²

Whites Are “Raceless”?

Even with the long and distasteful history in the United States of race and racism, a classification manufactured by whites, many sociologists assert that US whites think that they are in essence “raceless” or “cultureless.” Race is diversity’s four-letter word. Consciously for some and unconsciously for many more, race is not a “nice” thing to talk about. Some white people are so averse to any discussion of race, that objections are swift and direct any time the topic surfaces, with comments like: “Diversity is about more than race” and “Oh, no, not the race card again.” These kinds of statements, which are not uncommon, are sure to squash any hope of having inclusive conversations. Perhaps the disdain for conversations about race emanates from historical guilt and shame that is etched in the intergenerational DNA of some white people. For others, the aversion might come from a belief that race is not important.

In a 2019 Pew survey on race in America, Blacks were more likely than Hispanics or Asians, and much more likely than whites, to say that their race is central to their identity.³ A full 75 percent of Black adults responded that being Black is extremely or very important to how they think of themselves, versus just 15 percent of whites who responded that being white is very or extremely important to their identity. As such, white people typically do not name their race as a part of their core identity in The Winters Group training sessions and sometimes seem annoyed or visibly uncomfortable when Blacks do. Whites more often answer the exercise that invites them to share core aspects of their identity with “human,” “caring person,” “free spirit,” or “mother,” while Blacks are more apt to name Black or African American or Afro-Caribbean.

Understanding Whiteness Theory

Increasingly there is discourse about whiteness and the need to pay more attention to the concept of whiteness. In studies of race, we most often focus on the “racialized” other. In college curricula race courses focus on the victims of racism as the primary content. It is only in the past thirty years or so that whiteness as a discipline to study has gained popularity. Whiteness theory examines how whiteness is normalized in culture, creating an unawareness to the set of privileges associated with white identity, also known as white privilege. Whiteness theory posits that whiteness is the default of American culture, and as a result of this default, white people cannot see the advantages and disadvantages of being white due to a lack of “cultural subjectiveness” toward whiteness.⁴

Inasmuch as the idea that whiteness is normalized, it may make it invisible to those who are white. It is like the fish-in-water analogy: the fish is unaware that it is in water until you take it out. Therefore, it is not surprising that when we ask participants in learning experiences to think about aspects of their identity, for whites their race does not often emerge. One of the first notions of whiteness came from feminist and antiracist activist Peggy McIntosh’s classic work that white Americans have little racial awareness of or consciousness about themselves.⁵ Her paper “White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack” is considered groundbreaking and seminal.

The author of Good White People, Shannon Sullivan, Chair and Professor of Philosophy at the University of North Carolina at Charlotte, asserts that well-meaning white liberals embrace an attitude of “goodness” and as such are insulted by any notion that they contribute to racial disparities. But this serves to shut down authentic conversation about race.⁶ White liberals believe their individual good intentions are enough, which results in less concern for systemic racism and privilege. Sullivan says that white people have four basic strategies to establish their lack of racism, including blaming lower-class whites for continuing to perpetuate racism; demonizing slaveholders; emphasizing their color blindness; as well as their attitudes of shame and guilt. She calls these “distancing strategies” and recommends a “new ethos” that moves to activism and agency for racial justice rather than “self-righteous” distancing from it. Sullivan encourages white people to acknowledge their whiteness rather than disown it or pretend it doesn’t exist.

Celebrating Whiteness

Travis Jones, principal strategist for The Winters Group, wrote for our blog The Inclusion Solution about the “power of whiteness.”⁷ He recounted an event where comedian W. Kamau Bell challenged a white audience to start owning and naming positive aspects of white culture. His approach and appeal is awkward for white audience members, even more evidence of how uncommon talking about white culture is for many people. Bell has Black audience members lift their fists in unison and chant “black power” as a sign of solidarity—the response is almost unanimous. Immediately after he asks white people to do the same, this time chanting “white power”—the response is silence, unease, and awkward laughter. Bell follows up with the point that if white people don’t start owning and celebrating the positive aspects of white culture, they leave the door open for white supremacists, racist politicians, or race deniers to be the only voices speaking on behalf of white people.

In a recent session with a group of ten diversity practitioners from a major company who represented different identity groups, the white participants agreed that talking about their “whiteness” is extremely uncomfortable because they feel a sense of guilt and shame about the connotations of that identity. However, the group concurred that society needs to have discussions about whiteness as an identity to advance diversity, equity, and inclusion in society. They agreed that their organization was not at all ready for such discussions. I conjecture that DEI professionals in most organizations would share that sentiment. Part of society’s growing edge is acknowledging and learning how to discuss whiteness.

In his Inclusion Solution post, Travis invited readers to join him in thinking about “positive” forms of white culture. He stressed that it should go without saying that this question does not imply that there is inherently anything negative about white people or that there aren’t countless positive aspects of culture that white people predominantly enjoy. But the question is important because he posited that white people don’t typically describe these cultural elements as tied to whiteness—choosing instead cultural markers other than race. In fact, “color-blindness” is one of the markers of whiteness itself—as a dominant culture—that makes it difficult to describe or pin down white cultural attributes.

Some readers might be thinking, “But how can you describe white culture?” No culture has a definitive set of characteristics, and whiteness has the added anomaly of “invisibility” that works to evade attempts at identifying patterns. One aspect of white culture is the unspoken assumption that white is the norm and every other group is the “other.” Another major characteristic of white culture is that it is Eurocentric, a worldview centered on or biased toward Western civilization. This is evident in how history is recorded and told, and which civilizations are touted (perhaps subtly or not so subtly) as superior. As an example, schoolchildren are taught that Christopher Columbus “discovered” America. The problem with this assertion is that Native people already occupied what is known as America. Western white culture is characterized by individualism, preference for the written word over oral traditions, direct communication styles, concentrated power, and aversion to conflict. Notwithstanding some of the negative aspects such as colonialism and imperialism, on a more positive side, white culture can be attributed with many advances in the arts and sciences and supporting world allies in the quest for peace and human rights.

Obviously, there is “good” and “bad” in every culture, and it is important to build a narrative that recognizes “white” as a distinct culture with its positives and negatives just like any other culture. Currently white supremacists are defining what it means to be white—hate mongering, violent separatists who would annihilate any group that is not white.

Distinguishing “Racist” from “Racism”

Robin DiAngelo’s book What Does It Mean to Be White? advances the idea that most white people abhor being labeled racists.⁸ Of course, no one wants to be called racist, but DiAngelo says that liberal white people understand racism as an interpersonal evil and ignore that it is really a system requiring collective attention (see Chapter 1). They confuse “racist” with “racism.” Being associated with racism in any way conjures up defensiveness that DiAngelo calls “white fragility” (described in Chapter 6) and may lead to “whitesplaining,” where a white person explains to Black people the true nature of racism from their worldview, obviously lacking lived experience as a Black person. We also must consider that the “racist = bad; not racist = good” binary ignores all the evidence from brain science that we internalize racist messages from a racist society that becomes a part of who we are—whether we’re aware of it or believe it. It does not make us inherently “bad.”

Whiteness and Inclusive Conversations

What are some considerations about whiteness in inclusive conversations?

   Acknowledge whiteness. In diversity training sessions where you are asked about identity, do not ignore your race. We need to increase the 15 percent of white people who perceive their race as a part of their identity. Inclusive conversations about race are impossible with a color-blind worldview. In a recent session, we did an exercise asking participants to share their core identities. I first offered mine as an example and included African American. One of the white male participants shared, “You have a significant identity as an African American. I hesitated to put ‘white male’ because it doesn’t mean anything.” Everyone’s racial identity is meaningful.

   Whether you think so or not, race is a dynamic in all cross-race conversations. That is not to say that I am necessarily recommending that you explicitly state it, but if you are white, be aware of it; the Black person certainly is, even if they would not admit it. If you are white, ask yourself: “What dynamic does my whiteness play in this conversation? How do I decenter the dominant narrative?” Depending on the extent of the presence of the conditions that I laid out in Chapter 2, it might be safe to name the race dynamic. For the Black person in the dialogue, ask yourself: “To what extent do I think this person is woke and is aware of their whiteness? Am I able/willing to give grace and forgiveness? Can I exercise my power/agency in this conversation?”

   Create equity in the conversation. Use the suggestions in Chapter 5.

   Commit to take action. Try to get past the shame, blame, denial, fear, and other emotions that a white person may harbor in a society that is founded on racist principles. As I recommend in Chapter 1, own your responsibility as a part of the collective guilt to be committed to take action. As the Black person in the conversation, be mindful of the power dynamics and defensiveness on the part of the white person. Handle it by asking clarifying questions like this: “That is interesting, what makes you think that?” Use opportunities to educate as appropriate and even use the oops, ouch, and educate model outlined in Chapter 7.

   Acknowledging whiteness includes calling out white people. In a post penned by Adam Mansbach and W. Kamau Bell in Salon, the authors recommend that acknowledging whiteness includes calling out white people as people of color call out their own when needed.⁹ For example, Blacks on social media have objected to comments by Dr. Ben Carson (former neurosurgeon and current US Secretary of Housing and Urban Development) when they do not represent the sentiments of many Black people. Bell believes that white people should do the same with Donald Trump. “As a white person, I am appalled at what the president said about X,” for example. This of course is difficult if whiteness as a culture is invisible to white people. Bell says, “It’s a way to claim and use whiteness, to wield it with authority rather than apology, and that’s something white anti-racists seldom get the chance to do.”

   Refrain from whitesplaining. This is explained in more detail in Chapter 11. It is normal for someone from the dominant group to unconsciously believe that they are entitled to comment on all matters or at least have a viewpoint that is valid because of their assumed position as the norm. Rather than tell Black people, ask.

Travis concludes his Inclusion Solution post with the belief that you have to focus on self-awareness by acknowledging whiteness. This starts “with a very serious and honest self-reflective look inside ourselves—at the messages, images, values, beliefs, and experiences we’ve ‘soaked up’ living in a culture that continues to produce racial inequity and injustice. Maybe we don’t fully get to the bottom of whiteness; but this is where we start.”¹⁰

SUMMARY

   Acknowledging whiteness is critical for inclusive conversations.

   Many white people see themselves as “raceless” due to their position as the “dominant culture.”

   Conversations about race are very uncomfortable for many whites, leading to defensiveness and denial.

   Learn the history of race and racism.

   Acknowledging whiteness can promote a positive narrative to counteract the perspectives of white supremacist groups.