White people are facing a painful but necessary task: eradicating their racism against Black people.
Are you a white European or American* person? Then this message is for you. I am one, by the way.
*Or another white “Westerner”, such as Australian, Canadian, etc.
The other day I posted a black square with the hashtag #BlackoutTuesday on Instagram. By doing so, I wanted to support the message that was going around the world.
By posting the black square, I did not change the world. I did not fight racism. I did not make a real effort to contribute to equality and justice. I simply posted an Instagram post. It did not cost me anything.
If I take racism and injustice seriously, I will have to do more. If I take Black lives, safety, dignity, and freedom seriously, I will have to do more. I will have to confront my own privilege. I will have to confront racism in society. And I will have to confront the internalised racism inside me.
That is a painful process. But you know what? I will have to do it. And you too. We will have to do it.
Black people should not have to carry the burden of educating white people or dismantling racism for us. White people have a responsibility to confront the racism we benefit from, reproduce, and too often ignore.
It is an inconvenient responsibility. It is hard. It can be painful. For example, I may feel defensive or ashamed when I confront myself with the following truths: “I do not want to be racist. I despise racism. And yet I contribute to a racist society.” Or even more painfully: “I do not want to be racist. I despise racism. And yet I have learned racist thoughts, reactions, and assumptions.”
One quote that I have seen several times these last days is:
“It is not enough to not be racist. We have to be anti-racist.”
When we are bystanders and do not intervene, we help harmful systems continue. If we only watch, stay silent, or look away, we share responsibility for what we allow to keep happening.
That is why we, white people, have to do the work. We have to take responsibility for challenging racism, repairing harm where we can, and supporting work already being led by Black communities and anti-racist movements.
Defensive feelings may come up. “Are you calling me racist? Are you saying this is my fault? I have never intentionally done anything bad to a Black person.”
Take a breath.
I am less interested in whether we see ourselves as “racist people” and more interested in what we do, what we ignore, and what systems we help maintain. I believe that many of us have good intentions. But our intentions are not the whole story. What matters is also the impact of our actions, our silence, and our choices.
When we benefit from white privilege without questioning it, challenging it, or using our position to change unequal systems, we help those systems continue.
Even if we have done or said racist things in the past, that does not mean we are beyond change. Doing a harmful thing does not mean we are incapable of learning. But it does mean we are responsible for listening, reflecting, apologising when needed, changing our behaviour, and doing better.
It is not enough to not be racist. We have to be actively anti-racist.
A first step is to stop claiming space, and listen instead.
Listen to Black people and to people directly affected by anti-Black racism, while remembering that no one person can speak for everyone. Do not immediately defend yourself. Do not minimize what is being said. Do not change the subject to other forms of discrimination. Do not rush to prove that you are “one of the good ones.” Do not say that racism does not exist in your country, your city, your workplace, your family, or your social bubble.
Just listen.
You may feel as if you are being attacked. You may feel as if you are being held responsible for something you personally did not choose. You may feel defensive, ashamed, guilty, or uncomfortable. Notice those feelings. Take a breath. And keep listening.
Listening is not the whole work, but without it we are likely to repeat the same harm.
Are you with me?
Imagine looking back twenty years from now. Did we stay comfortable, or did we help change the conditions that made anti-Black racism possible? Did we listen when people told us they were being harmed? Did we act when action was needed? Did we challenge racism when it appeared in our families, friendships, workplaces, institutions, jokes, assumptions, and everyday choices?
Active anti-racism does not begin and end with attending protests. There are many forms of action: listening, learning, speaking up, donating, voting, organizing, challenging racism in family and work settings, and supporting Black-led initiatives.
The first step can be very simple, but not always easy:
Listen.
Are you with me? Let’s do it.
I will post more about this subject in the coming days. About, for example, “all lives matter.” About “but my family suffered a lot in WWII.” About protests, anger, and the way resistance is often judged. About good intentions. About “they should not complain, they have a good life here.” About “there is racism against white people too.” About many very plausible-sounding reasons why we might avoid actively engaging in anti-racism.
And about why we still need to engage.
Please read part two of this message: Privilege makes blind