Challenging Whiteness

Being white means never having to think about it. James Baldwin said that many years ago, and it's perhaps the truest thing ever said about race in America. That's why I get looks of bewilderment whenever I ask, as I do when lecturing to a mostly white audience: "what do you like about being white?"

Never having contemplated the question, folks take a while to come up with anything.

We're used to talking about race as a Black issue, or Latino, Asian, or Indian problem. We're used to books written about "them," but few analyze what it means to be white in this culture. Statistics tell of the disadvantages of "blackness" or "brownness" but few examine the flipside: namely, the advantages whites receive as a result.

When whites hear about things like racial profiling, we think of it in terms of what people of color go through, never contemplating what it means for us, and what we don't have to put up with. We might know that a book like The Bell Curve denigrates the intellect of blacks, but we ignore the fact that in so doing, it elevates the same in whites, much to our advantage in the job market and schools, where those in authority will likely view us as more competent than persons of color.

That which keeps people of color off-balance in a racist society is that which keeps whites in control: a truism that must be discussed if whites are to understand our responsibility to work for change. Each thing with which "they" have to contend as they navigate the waters of American life, is one less thing whites have to sweat: and that makes everything easier, from finding jobs, to getting loans, to attending college. Even those whites who would never support, let alone join a hate group -- and indeed condemn the actions of such characters -- ultimately are "steadied" by their existence, since they are an everpresent concern and damaging distraction for people of color just trying to live their lives. For most blacks, hate groups are one more thing with which to contend, things whites (unless they are gay or Jewish) view mostly as oddities or talk show entertainment, rather than a true source of pain, fear and anxiety.

On a personal level, this issue of the immensity of racial privilege has been made clear to me repeatedly: Like the time I attended a party in a white suburb and one of the few black men there announced he had to leave before midnight, because he was afraid his trip home -- which required that he travel through all-white neighborhoods -- would likely result in being pulled over by police, who would wonder what he was doing out so late in the "wrong" part of town.

He would have to be cognizant -- in a way I would not -- of every lane change, every blinker he did or didn't remember to use, whether his lights were too bright, or too dim, and whether he was going even 5 miles an hour over the limit: as any of those could serve as pretexts for pulling one over, pretexts that are used regularly against certain folks, but not others.

The virtual invisibility that whiteness affords those of us who have it is like psychological money in the bank, the proceeds of which we cash in every day while others are in a state of perpetual overdraft.

Yet, it's not enough to see these things, or think about them, or come to appreciate what whiteness means. Though important, this kind of enlightenment is no end in itself. Rather, it is what we do with the knowledge and understanding that matters.

If we recognize our privileges, yet fail to challenge them, what good is our insight? If we intuit discrimination, yet fail to speak against it, what have we done to rectify the injustice?

And that's the hard part: because privilege tastes good and we're loath to relinquish it. Or even if willing, we often wonder how to resist: how to attack unfairness and make a difference.