Introduction

This is the “(as-of-yet-unfinished) blog entry” I referred to in previous posts. It’s finished now. I hope it was worth it.

In 2018, I saw several blog entries with similar self-interrogative titles and was impelled to construct my own. The beauty of this is that it isn’t copying, because each of us asks the question to ourselves. It turned out to be more difficult than I had originally assumed.

I noticed immediately that none of the other pieces I read included a definition of racism and/or racist, and it was obvious that several conflicting definitions were in use. So I wrote What I Mean When I Say ‘Racism’ (2019.02.21). Then I saw that most were treating the question as a yes/no (either/or) proposition, which it clearly isn’t, so I wrote The Continuum Of Bigotry (2019.03.15). As I continued working on this, I saw that my section on “white privilege” had grown large, so I broke it off into My Take On White Privilege, And What It Means (2019.08.07). Finally, I made yet another separate entry called Races Don’t Exist, But Racism Does (2019.08.19), because a few of the pieces I read dismissed the possibility of the writer being racist on the grounds that “races are social constructs” — which is technically true but that fact doesn’t disprove the existence of racism.

What follows is what I am left with after about a year of working on this entry.

 

Why Even Ask The Question?

Some, I assume, think it ridiculous to ask oneself this question. I can’t guess their reasons.

Part of who I am, though, is questioning everything — especially myself. As I often joke, “my only superpower is overthinking”. A subcategory is the irresistable drive to regularly inspect my own motives and discover potential for improvement. If a problem exists in the world, it’s worth asking myself whether I’m involved in making it better or worse. And that is especially worth asking when the problem is racism — even if I’m not actively being racist, am I doing anything to turn the tide.

Thus, this isn’t the first time I have asked myself the titular question: “Am I a racist?”, using the word as a noun, or “Am I racist?”, using it as an adjective. It is part of a larger group of regular self-evaluation queries. My responses have changed over time due to improving understanding of the issues and evolving self-awareness. On this particular question, I think I have fairly placed myself on the continuum.

 

Reading Other People’s Responses

Observations on the (more than a dozen) pieces I read by other people:

• Almost all by white men (the exceptions by white women).
• The only ones that included definitions of racist/racism used the dictionary definitions, which are absurd.
• Most went in one of two directions (see below).

Most common was the “of course I’m not” variety, which sometimes sounded kneejerkingly defensive, although some were clearly honest attempts at self-evaluation. Some were vehement; others fairly well reasoned. They usually listed racist-style activity that the writer has never, ever participated in — using the N-word, owning slaves, joining the KKK, and so on. They included claims like “I have black friends” or “where I live is very diverse”. (Notably, all that is true for me too, but I don’t think it answers the actual question.)

Alternatively, some writers admitted to some unconscious bias — bonus points if it happened a long time ago — and then win liberal bingo by concluding “then, yes, I am a racist” and something about how “We can all work to change those unconscious biases.”

The first simplifies and distills racism down to a short list of really horrible actions or beliefs. It makes it easy to absolve oneself. The second approach often feels like self-loathing or a veiled attempt at claiming everyone is racist.

I read these posts with fascination, because I am curious about other people’s motives and inner thoughts, but I tried not to be too judgy — because the whole point of this is to pull the plank from one’s own eye. Yes, I want people in general to improve themselves, but the person I’m most interested in improving is myself. I like to fight the natural instinct to absolve/justify myself. If I’ve been wrong, I want to admit it, correct it, and move on.

 

Should It Really Require So Many Words To Answer A Question?

I know it’s possible to answer this question with a single word — because I’ve seen other people do it: “No”, they will say. And to them, that’s all there is to it. That’s not enough for me, especially on questions for which my answer affects other people.

Let’s stipulate that “racist” isn’t like “over six feet tall”. The latter depends on an objective measuring tool, a standard to which everyone agrees, while the former doesn’t. We all agree on the definitions of “six”, “feet”, and “tall”, so there is no disagreement — I am indeed over six feet tall. There is also no negative connotation to this admission, as there is (heavily) with racism, so you won’t find a bunch of six-foot-three guys running around denying their height. With racism, there are layers to unpack, subjective and sometimes invisible effects, motives and unconscious conditioning.

I think some people assume I’m not racist because I married a black woman and fathered non-white children. I think others wonder whether part of the reason I married a black woman was an overcompensation for hidden but deep-seated racism. And of course, others believe all white people are racists, and still others (like far-right extremist Gavin McInnes) claim racism doesn’t exist.

 

So... Am I A Racist Or What?

There are multiple ways to answer the question, depending on what the question means.

So... Definitely not. No. And yes.

Using dictionary definitions of racism and racist, then no, I am not a racist. However, those definitions are absurd. No one is a racist according to the dictionary, because the dictionary contributors wrote the definition in such a way that “races” must be real things, and they aren’t. Which has me fuming mad because I typically enjoy using dictionary definitions.

Using the short list of actions or thoughts (like those listed in some of the other blog entries I read), those don’t describe me either: telling “black jokes”, assuming random black people are criminals, calling the police to report a “suspicious person” every time I see a person of color, using the N-word, and so on. (Author Tim Wise wrote a short list of “you might be a racist if...” tweets, all relating to beliefs.)

Using a better definition of racism — the broader, sociological definition — it doesn’t apply well to individual people, because it’s a SYSTEM of oppression, societal inequalities, an imbalance of power, etc. Unless a person was personally responsible for setting up those unjust power arrangements — or actively encouraged it — then it’s easy to absolve oneself of racism here too. “Hey, it’s not me oppressing you; it’s the system, man.”

However, it can be accurate to say I have participated in and benefitted from the entrenched inequality in the United States, despite being ignorant of those systems for many years, and despite my opposition to those arrangements. Further, I am not immune to the side-effects of that system — harboring unconscious biases, for example. And I have come to understand that simply remaining silent while others are oppressed can be almost as bad as actively encouraging it.

Due to the very real phenomenon of white privilege, nothing is easier than remaining silent when something bad happens to someone else. Since I am perceived as white, and perceived as male, that “something bad” almost always happens to someone else.

That privilege also means that even if I personally think it’s wrong to discriminate, it’s very possible that I got a job because I was white, got promoted when someone else deserved it more, or received a warning instead of an arrest because the cop didn’t perceive me as a threat. Teachers assumed my distractedness was a sign of intelligence or creativity instead of attributing it to a lack of teachability due to skin color. It means I was raised without really seeing or noticing ongoing oppression. It meant I never had to be aware of most of the power imbalances in society. It meant I never noticed the lack of representation — because I was always able to see myself in pop culture icons, professional athletes, business executives, and government officials. It also meant I almost certainly held (and still hold) unconscious bias, participated in microaggressions, and used harmful language — without even realizing these were things, because none of them negatively affected me.

In other words, I definitely have been part of the problem, mainly because I (early) didn’t know there was a problem, often didn’t acknowledge the problem, and also because I often did little or nothing to help solve the problem. It is in this sense that I can answer “yes” to the original question, “Am I racist?”

 

My Place On The Continuum

On a continuum or spectrum of racism, I like to think I’m on the better end of the scale. I assume most white people would say the same thing; but I can’t answer for them.

Imagine a detailed ranking system, ranking the very worst racists of all time at zero and the most stringent anti-racists at ten. If so, very few of us are actually zeroes or tens. We tend to reserve the zero rank for the Hitlers, the Andrew Jacksons, and the KKK wizards of the world. We reserve the ten rank for the rare Nelson Mandelas, Toussaint Louvertures, and Harriet Tubmans. The more I think about it, the more it seems that most of us are bunched near the middle, say from three to seven, in a bell-shaped curve. Actions, words, and beliefs can push a person one way or another.

If someone actually laid out a scoring system (and I don’t mean silly “how racist are you?” internet quizzes), each of us might disagree with how much weight is given to particular scoring items. For my own self-judging, I have listened to what people of color have said and are saying, and tried to look honestly at my actions, speech, awareness/knowledge, and beliefs, and I also looked at changes over time in each of those. I ranked myself firmly on the downslope of the bell curve toward the “not racist” side of the scale. Regardless of the accuracy of my self-assigned score, I think it’s my responsibility to improve it.

I think I’m better than I used to be. If nothing else, I am at least now more aware of the depths of the inequality and oppression, and I often make the effort to push some of that awareness at my fellow white people. (Here, I instinctively began to list a bunch of things that sounded a lot like patting myself on the back, but I have removed them for exactly that reason.) One thing I’m doing (or more accurately, will do) that most white Americans don’t: when I die, what little wealth is in my name will be inherited entirely by people of color. (Inheritance of wealth and property is one of the huge gaps of inequality in the U.S. — the median white family owns about 41 times the wealth of the median black family.)

 

Reversing The Question

An obviously related question is "Am I a victim of racism?" It’s instructive that I’m not asking that question. I’ll give you three guesses as to why, but you’ll only need one. It’s the same reason I don’t ask myself whether I’m a victim of homophobia or misogyny. I can’t be defined as belonging to the groups that are victimized by those forms of bigotry, and I can’t be defined as part of a group that has been victimized by racism.

I belong to the group (“race”) that benefits most from the unequal conditions in society, and the group that (in this country) originally set up those unequal power structures — for example, the U.S. Constitution. Even if I didn’t personally benefit (I do), I clearly don’t belong to the groups meant to be oppressed by such systems.

For most of my life, I couldn’t be defined into any group historically persecuted or otherwise marginalized in this country. White, male, middle class, Christian, cishet, hearing, sighted, otherwise able-bodied. The only mark against me is that I wasn’t wealthy. In my middle age, a handful of things have changed. Today [2019], I am an atheist and agender, neither of which have [yet] caused me any specific harm — possibly because neither is immediately visible to a stranger. On the plus side, I am now wealthier than I have ever been — in the top 50% for the first time in my life.

When someone asserts the existence of “reverse racism”, it is clear they are using a definition of racism (like the one in the dictionary) that doesn’t fit reality. There can’t be “reverse racism” because if a historically oppressed group (perceived as a “race”) (1) gained enough power to be on the top side of the systemic power imbalances in a country, and (2) began oppressing a different perceived race — if that ever happened — it would simply be racism.

 

The Problem Of ‘Racist’ As A Noun

On this blog, I have often said “I’m evaluating ideas, not attacking people”. I know I have occasionally broken that rule (usually when discussing political conservatives or theists), and I want to be more careful about it. A similar approach, I think, is worthwhile with racism.

I’m not convinced it’s a good idea to call people “racists” (noun) because that implies we know their thoughts and motivations — and we usually don’t. Also, we tend to apply the label after a single act or out-of-context quotation, which means we end up labeling people who are actually on the good side of the continuum. Granted, there are people with a long enough “rap sheet” of racist acts, speech, and belief that the label “racist” is accurate enough for them. But in general, I think it makes more sense to use the adjective “racist” to describe speech, actions, or beliefs.

As noted in a new version of the widely-used AP Stylebook:

“In general, avoid using racist or any other label as a noun for a person; it’s far harder to match the complexity of a person to a definition or label than it is a statement or action. Instead, be specific in describing the person’s words or actions.”

CBS News, March 2019

The act of stealing a loaf of bread from a supermarket is indeed illegal (adjective), but we don’t use “illegal” as a noun to describe the person who stole the loaf of bread. That would be stupid. It’s a person, who might or might not have tendencies toward regular illegal acts. Yes, I know some people do use nouns like “thief” or “shoplifter” to describe the person, but I think we can do better.

We are, all of us, sometimes defined (in the minds of others) by our actions, and I don’t think we can stop them from doing it. But we can make the effort to stop defining them in unhelpful ways.

To clarify, yes, I think some people are actually racists — in that racism is a big part of their identity and takes up significant space on their personal timeline. Occasionally some of them are so forthright about it so often that the label clearly applies. Just as someone might burgle so many homes that they can be accurately described as “a burglar”. But I ask myself: what is more of a problem for me: (1) someone burglarized my home, or (2) someone is a burglar? It is clearly the act that has negative consequences, not the person’s characteristic (which is derived from the act), or their existence (which they have a right to as much as I).

 

How Should One React If Accused Of Racism?

Just before publishing this entry, I saw Dear Fellow White People: Here’s What To Do When You’re Called Racist on The Washington Post. It lists five steps, as advised by a white professor, which are worth reading. My own advice (again, to myself) would be slightly different.

First, it makes a difference whether the accusation is made in-person (face-to-face) or at a distance (online, via text or email, etc.) Mainly because a face-to-face accusation doesn’t allow time to cool off, consider the context, or actually think about whether it’s true. No one has ever accused me in-person of being a racist, so I don’t know how I would react. I hope it would be with grace and humility. In the following advice, I’m thinking more of an “at-a-distance” accusation.

• Examine What Was Actually Said

This is usually the only one that’s necessary. Nine times out of ten, in my experience, what was actually said was “THAT is racist”, rather than “YOU are racist”. I have watched this unfold in a hundred online conversations. Person A says something widely considered to be racist; Person B replies “that’s a racist trope”; Person A replies: “I’m not a racist!” and begins defending himself. See what happened? So, if it seems like I’ve been accused of racism (and this principle would apply to accusations of other sorts of bigotry too), I should check what was actually said. Did they actually say I am a racist? Or were they referring to something I said, a link I shared, a video I posted? If so, it doesn’t make any sense to pivot to self-defense.

Over the years, I’ve watched a few friends take the wrong tack here. I admit I hadn’t thought enough about the topic in those days, so I didn’t immediately recognize what was happening. In retrospect, each case could have been resolved easily if the “accused” had recognized they weren’t actually being accused. One I remember fairly clearly involved a white man using the word “coon” in a derogatory way; someone else said “that’s a racist term”; the white guy downshifted immediately to “I’m not a racist!” and stormed out in a huff. I don’t want to be that guy.

• Consider: Is It True?

The next obvious step, if the accusation was definitely “you are a racist”, is to check myself. Maybe it’s true. Maybe I’m not as close to the good end of the scale as I thought. It’s worth taking a look. It’s easier if the accusation is specific — if the accuser lists what made them come to that conclusion.

• Other Possibilities

Sure, it might have been a misunderstanding; maybe I used words that always seemed normal to me but are seen as offensive by others. Maybe the accuser is a troll or tends to make wild and baseless accusations. Sometimes it’s an attempt to derail an discussion (as with the infamous Ben Affleck accusation against Sam Harris [transcript]: “It’s gross! It’s racist! It’s disgusting!”)

However one chooses to react, I think the worst possible response is to switch into high-power self-defense mode and reply in the heat of the moment. Certainly, it doesn’t help to use the fallback defenses of people who are almost certainly racists: (1) “I don’t have a racist bone in my body!” (2) “I have black friends!” (3) “This other guy is way more racist than I am!”

Conclusion

The above is long, I realize. Here are some final thoughts:

1. Racism/bigotry is more complex than most of us want it to be.
2. Most of us (white people) tend to talk about it only in ways that absolve us.
3. Few of us use a solid working definition of racism.
4. Even if we aren’t “racists” in the most tangible sense of the word, we certainly benefit from racism as a system, whether we agree with it or not.
5. Most of us, including me, have been a part of the problem at some point.
6. Doing nothing about it means we continue to get unearned benefits.
7. I think it’s better to refer to racism and racist acts/speech than to use “racist” as a noun.