There may be quite a few statements that sound like generalizations. I kindly ask that the framework of these being through my experiences and observations be remembered. Thanks.
When I first came up with this subject, I thought “we are some racist [folks]”, which should help explain the title. Then I thought “it’s not that we’re racist, it’s that we’re race-conscious - probably too much so. It may be that our race consciousness is more extroverted, but that’s another thought for another time. Now I’ve had the experience of being in mostly-black groups and mostly-white groups: be they social, academic, or professional. Race comes up a lot more often when I’m within the former as it does when I’m within the latter. We often talk about being black in general, some standard of blackness in particular, or how our membership in said groups may affect black people as a whole. We do this for two reasons: nature and nurture.
I’ll address nurture first, as it makes chronological sense. We learn really early what it means to be black in America. Civil Rights Movement, affirmative action, ‘that one word’, and similar topics are addressed long before we ever see the inside of a classroom. We learn how this social construct (supposedly) makes people different in general and how it makes us different in particular. I’m not talking about that nonsense like being able to run fast and jump high; I’m talking about how it (supposedly) shapes our worldview.
I’m talking about having to work twice as hard to get half as far. I’m talking about making sure we stand out for the right reasons. I’m talking about, as Dr. Akbar once said, making sure Grandma knows who we are when we come home. I’m talking about the things that truly affect how we see the world, and how we should act in kind so we can positively affect how the world sees us.
We get this drilled into us early and often. We know what it’s like to be different, even the many of us who live in neighborhoods where we’re pretty much the same as everyone else. And then of course comes nature, in its most bizarre sense - the one incident that we all encounter…one that we remember like Christmas or a birthday party, but without the fondness: that first brush with racism.
It could be something meant to be positive: “he/she speaks so well”…as opposed to whom? “They just always pay attention and don’t talk out loud”…that’s what they’re supposed to do. We don’t deserve - nor should we receive - extra credit for doing things we’re supposed to do. I doubt I need to go into much detail about negative things, but I’ll mention one school-related thing: magnet programs.
Magnet programs were designed to ‘attract’ (hence the name) white students to black schools in an attempt to diversify them. That’s why BA, Dillard, and Ely had magnet programs while Cooper City, Taravella, and Douglas did not…at least when I was in high school. The school board then realized that black students are smart too, and the magnet programs became counterproductive in relation to their goals. Magnet programs then started popping up at other schools. I never understood how Taravella in particular - where my dad taught for over a decade and had to deal with racism via people spray-painting his portable, and also had 60 black people out of 3000 enrolled at one point - was less in need of diversification than BA (which actually was predominantly white in its early days).
What that first brush with racism - whether experiential, institutional, or otherwise - does is twofold and it shows a relationship between nature and nurture (in this case). It confirms the cautions, teachings, and warnings we got from the time we were born. It also forces us to see the world through color: not only our own, but that of the people we interact with.
Now, my Caucasian brothers and sisters don’t have to deal with this nearly as much. They don’t have to go to Sistrunk…or to BA, or to FAMU, or to any other locale in which they don’t represent the majority of the populace. Caucasian brothers and sisters can - I’m not saying they desire, just the ability - to go through life without ever being in the minority. I think this is a large part of why many white people don’t consider race to be important (I’ll get back to this later). On the other side, it is nearly impossible for black people to have any amount of appreciable success if they stayed around black people all their lives.
Now obviously, I know nothing about being white. As DL Hughley once said, I can only speak from a black person’s perspective because that’s all I’ve ever been. That said, I will pre-suppose some things…because it’s my note and I can. Ladies and gentlemen, the reasons I imagine it’s not as easy to be white as most black people probably think it is.
1. People of other races - especially black people - blame you for a disproportionate share of their problems
Now this one is more geared toward the 40-and-under crowd than those above 40, although it applies to many white people above 40 as well. Considering that the Civil Rights Act was signed in the 1960s, I think it’s fairly safe to assume that most white people are on the side of equality (which is much different than integration…and I’ll also take the time to restate that I don’t think most black people are on the side of equality).
2. White people catch an alarming amount of reverse racism
I’m not going to lie: there have been many a time that I’ve been around black people and been absolutely repulsed by the things they’ve said about white people…either in general or about particular people. Most of us black people have been in the club that one time where the white guy (and it’s usually a guy) is tearing up the floor and the DJ feels the need to bring the matter to everyone’s attention. Shoot, that man’s out there having fun. We should all be so lucky. His father doesn’t have to own the spot, he doesn’t have to be looking for something “different”, and he didn’t have to get lost on his way to wherever the so-called “white clubs” are.
3. White people are not all the same…well, they (mostly) are in some ways
I almost want to go Bernie Mac on this one: “my people: there’s something wrong with us”…it is no less ridiculous for us to say that our Caucasian brothers and sisters are all the same than it is for one of them to say we’re all the same. All of them are not racist. All of them are not Republicans. All of them are not tennis, golf, or polo experts. Maybe most importantly, all of them do not walk around like they own the world.
Now, most of them do want safe neighborhoods. Most of them do want good schools for their children to go to. Most of them want to be able to earn enough to live comfortably. I imagine, though, that most black people want the same things.
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I could probably think of a few more, but I’ll stop right there and go back to something I said earlier. White people (speaking in the aggregate sense) are not subject to as many situations in which they are not the numerical majority as black people. When you’re surrounded by people who mostly look like you, you tend to not notice that as a glaring point of difference.
This is true for many black people too…unless they’ve attended predominantly black schools throughout their lives and then attend a PWI (especially if their first PWI experience is at the post-baccalaureate level, where they are a more pronounced minority). That kind of culture shock pretty much doesn’t exist for my Caucasian brothers and sisters in any realm that I know of - and no, magnet schools don’t count.
I’d imagine that in many Caucasian households - once again, obviously without personal experience - that race doesn’t come up often unless it directly comes up. Could be Rodney King, or OJ Simpson, or…when I was in seventh grade one of my friends invited another friend and me to his house to spend the night. We were all looking forward to a night of playing video games and eating pizza, which was what happened a few months ago at my house. We got to his house and his grandmother called his mother back to her room. About an hour later my dad came to take me back home, and I had no idea why. I thought I’d done something wrong, and certainly wasn’t looking forward to a ride from Cooper City to Lauderdale Lakes with Version 1 - or what I thought was awaiting me when I got home.
I’m sure everyone knows where this story is going, so I’m going to switch back over to the Caucasian side of this equation (and at the end of the day, the hope is that this becomes an equation rather than an inequality)…after this somewhat-necessary bridge. Had I kept up with Joey and talked to him about that incident 21 years later, I imagine he’d be much less comfortable talking about it than I would be. Why? The answer is simple: he wouldn’t want to deal with the hard part of being white that (partially outlined above). I couldn’t blame him for that, nor could I blame anyone in a similar position.
I think it’s fair to note the possibility that (at least some) of my Caucasian sisters and brothers don’t like talking about race - especially with black people - because they don’t feel like losing the blame game. Can’t win, because in order to play they have to ‘blame the victim’. That would get on my nerves too (and it does when sisters blame us brothers for their relationship troubles, but that’s another matter).
Some of our Caucasian brothers and sisters don’t see race the same as we do because they may not have the opportunity. Some may not want to be blamed for everything from the destruction of the black family to the cancellation of The Game. Some may think that we as a society are past the point of race being that big a deal. Could be any combination of the three for some. Regardless of whether we agree with their rationale, we have to respect the fact that it is rationale. After all, respect is a two-way street.
If we want our Caucasian brothers and sisters to respect our views on (and employment of) race consciousness, we have to be equally willing to respect theirs. It’ll also be good for all of us to remember that most all of our similarities start out as differences.
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