SOLSC 29: Me and White Supremacy

I need to apologize.

            A year ago, a subgroup of one of my book groups read, a few chapters a month, Layla Saad’s “Me and White Supremacy,” a “workbook/journal” for white people to, as the subtitle says, “combat racism, change the world, and become a good ancestor.” The chapters address such topics as white privilege, white silence, color blindness, racist stereotypes, much more. We discussed the questions at the end of each chapter intended to get us to think deeply, tried to understand. But I have to admit that partway through the book, I began to feel annoyed: The chapter on “Me and White Superiority” ended with one question: “In what ways have you consciously or subconsciously believed that you are better than BIPOC? Don’t hide from this. This is the crux of white supremacy. Own it.” I did not feel that I could “own” this. My parents raised us to not think we were better than anyone else. Just because I was smart didn’t mean I was better than people who weren’t as smart. We had books telling us that people of all colors are all human. Saad’s examples of white superiority did not, I felt, match my experience.

            Okay. I need to apologize. Words I have written in the past week reveal, not so much white superiority, but a white-centered consciousness, insufficiently aware that certain words slide into stereotype even when that stereotype is not one that I hold.

            Case one: Last week, I had watched a bit of Judge Ketanji Brown Jackson’s questioning by the Senate Judiciary Committee as a nominee to the Supreme Court. Marsha Blackburn’s grandstanding was enraging to watch. When the camera showed Jackson standing as the hearing ended and walking out of the room, I felt the anger I imagined she felt in her bearing. So I posted to Facebook: “...I think I could feel her anger at how her own record was being distorted...” Not until the next morning, after hearing on news reports commentary on how Black women’s anger is viewed as threatening (while white men, cf. Brett Kavanaugh’s temper tantrum at his Supreme Court nomination hearing, get angry with no consequence), did I realize I’d left out two important words: “totally justified.” If indeed Jackson was angry, she had every right to be. So I went back to Facebook and added those words. But they should have been there in the first place. While I don’t think I see Black women’s anger as threatening, I need to be more aware that other white people do, and be as careful as I can when using that word.

            Case two: My slice yesterday was about two surveys I took that day. The second one was one of those opinion things where the company may have had multiple clients, since the question about “topics in the news” had nothing to do with the earlier survey questions about music and the devices I listen to. The news topic was about Will Smith slapping Chris Rock, after Rock make a “joke” about Jada Pinkett Smith’s hairstyle, and whether I thought it was acceptable or not acceptable. I wrote in my slice about seeing the camera on Pinkett Smith’s face and that she looked angry—even as I wrote it, I wondered if that was the right word. But at the moment, I couldn’t think of any other word, so that’s what I went with. And in my slice, I also wondered whether this was the most important topic in the news, given the continuing war in Ukraine.

            This morning, after listening to all the Black voices on the radio talking about this issue, and reading the slice of a friend, I realize I had once again fallen into white-centered consciousness, and used “anger,” which might have been appropriate, or maybe not. The word that had eluded me last night was “upset”; Pinkett Smith looked upset. I’ve edited my slice to change “angry” to “upset.” But thinking more deeply about my response to what happened, was I trivializing the incident? Did one Black man becoming so angry at an insult to his wife that he lost control and behaved badly on nationwide TV, did that seem like “spectacle” to my white eyes? Did it seem like part of “celebrity culture,” something I don’t pay much attention to?

            I loved Will Smith in the Men in Black movies. I’ve liked Chris Rock when he was on SNL. I had no idea he had made a whole film about Black women’s hair, so he should have known not to make jokes about a Black woman’s hair. I had no idea Pinkett Smith had alopecia. But my ignorance should not have led me to dismiss what happened in front of millions of viewers as “no big deal.” It’s certainly a big deal for Black people, on many different levels. Pay attention to what those are.

            But what to do, as a white person? I do need to be more aware of my words. I need to think more deeply about my responses. I need to not unconsciously assume whiteness is the center and Black people are on the periphery, are accessories to the culture. It’s constant work, but work that must be done. I need to talk about this. I need to be more antiracism, not simply not racist. And I apologize for my slippage.

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I’m participating in the 15th annual Slice of Life Challenge over at Two Writing Teachers. This is day 29 of the 31-day challenge.  It’s not too late to make space for daily writing in a community that is encouraging, enthusiastic, and eager to read what you have to slice about.  Join in!