On the Word 'Racist'
We can harness the anti-racist definition of “racist” for good or leverage its pejorative sting. Not both.
I don’t know why the murder of George Floyd was the tipping point, for me or my country. I don’t know why this, out of so many, was the incident that reached out through the computer screen and constricted my heart with its brutality. But, I’m ashamed to admit, it was the first time I truly felt the ways in which I am complicit with a society that privileges some (myself included) at the cruel expense of others.
And so, for the past few weeks, I have been in a state of remorseful reflection. I’ve been gathering and reading anti-racist resources shared by friends and colleagues. And the number one recommendation, the first stop on my journey — as it has been for many left-leaning folks it seems — has been reading Ibram X. Kendi’s How to be an Anti-Racist.
Take this preamble as a disclaimer: I am no expert. I recognize that many people are better versed in anti-racist literature, literature that spans decades. I am merely one of the thousands of White people who are, for the first time, being introduced to anti-racist thinking by reading a New York Times bestseller.
And I am learning, for the first time, a way of defining “racist” that had never previously crossed my path.
While “racist” is a “tough little word” that has shifted meaning and evolved over time, I am going to cite and refer to Kendi’s definition throughout this piece: “One who is supporting a racist policy through their actions or inaction or expressing a racist idea.” Central to this definition is the idea that there is no such thing as “not racist,” if you are passive, you are supporting the racist status quo, and hence you are racist. Kendi explains:
The claim of “not racist” neutrality is a mask for racism. This may seem harsh, but it’s important at the outset that we apply one of the core principles of antiracism, which is to return the word “racist” itself back to its proper usage. “Racist” is not—as Richard Spencer argues—a pejorative. It is not the worst word in the English language; it is not the equivalent of a slur. It is descriptive, and the only way to undo racism is to consistently identify and describe it—and then dismantle it.
This expansive definition of “racist” rejects the colloquial, pejorative usage of the word. And, as I’m about to unpack, this definition unlocks a number of concepts that otherwise would be difficult to access or understand. To put this another way, from a theoretical perspective, in a world where we all read academic works and ideas and engage in civil discourse around them, this re-defining of the word would be a remarkably effective tool.
But here’s what’s been worrying me as I read and learn more about this powerful concept. We do not live in that world. We live in a world where people can (and are) both harnessing the theoretical concept of racism while fully embracing its pejorative power and leveraging its sting. And I fear it’s putting the anti-racist agenda at risk.
But — I jump ahead. First, let’s examine the good that comes from this expansive definition, when the word is used as intended by the academic cadre who coined it.
The Good
Implicit in the anti-racist understanding of racism is that “non-racism” is impossible, that everything around us in our society is inherently racist because its structure continues to perpetuate inequity between the races.
This idea is perhaps easiest to grasp when one considers the realm of policy (for Kendi, reforming policy is the number one tool in the anti-racist tool kit). He writes: “There is no such thing as a nonracist or race-neutral policy. Every policy in every institution in every community in every nation is producing or sustaining either racial inequity or equity between racial groups.” Even if Kendi is fuzzy on the details of how we even evaluate, let alone enact, policy that would be anti-racist, this idea is intuitive to understand: in the realm of policy, there are always consequences, and there can be no neutral ground.
From there, the conceptual leap towards understanding how our greater society is inherently racist, from our laws to our architecture to our media narratives, becomes easier to swallow. And of, course, when you look back in our history, it’s hard to deny that our society was made to serve White people, without consideration for the needs of people of color, and often designed to explicitly block or deny their rights and opportunities. And despite whatever progress has been made over time, whiteness remains the default in America.
For me, this point was hammered home by an anecdote from author Ijeoma Oluo in her talk “So you want to talk about race?”:
I will never know what it's like to be able to walk around in a world built for me and never have to say it was built for me. To never have to recognize white culture as white culture. I always have to recognize black culture as black culture because even if I'm going about my day in my blackness, someone's going to make it apparent I am doing something that is outside of the norm. Walking around with my hair, people make it very apparent. [...] the comments about how it's a little, oh, that's wild, that's funky, I like it! It's not wild or funky, it's the hair that grows out of my head.
As Kendi puts it, in America, White people have “the privilege of being inherently normal, standard, and legal.” And, because of that privilege, we need not think about the ways in which our society treats and actively oppresses those who are deemed non-normal, non-standard, non-legal.
And once you can accept that racism is in the DNA of American society, then it’s far easier to understand why it’s practically impossible not to be racist. Albeit unwittingly, Americans have internalized racism as part and parcel of our acculturation. Here’s how Kendi explains it to Brene Brown on her podcast Unlocking Us:
“To grow up in America is … for racist ideas to constantly be rained on your head, and you have no umbrella — and you don’t even know that you’re wet with those racist ideas. Because the racist ideas themselves cause you to imagine that you’re dry. … This is why I don’t think people should feel ashamed. There were other people and very powerful people and a history that was constantly raining those ideas on your head.”
How could you possibly grow up in America, and not be racist? There needn’t be personal shame around the word, nor should you feel shame if someone points out your racist behavior. Because we all have been racist and, even if we strive to become anti-racist crusaders, we will float in and out of racism throughout our lives.
As Kendi says, “These are not permanent tattoos. … Like fighting an addiction, being an antiracist requires persistent self-awareness, constant self-criticism, and regular self-examination.”
This is where Kendi and Robin DiAngelo, author of White Fragility, converge:
I came to see that the way we are taught to define racism makes it virtually impossible for white people to understand it. Given our racial insulation, coupled with misinformation, any suggestion that we are complicit in racism is a kind of unwelcome and insulting shock to the system. If, however, I understand racism as a system into which I was socialized, I can receive feedback on my problematic racial patterns as a helpful way to support my learning and growth. … Such moments can be experienced as something valuable, even if temporarily painful, only after we accept that racism is unavoidable and that it is impossible to completely escape having developed problematic racial assumptions and behaviors.
For both Kendi and DiAngelo, the de-stigmatization of the word “racist” allows us all to be more reflective of our behavior and open to recognizing when we are, indeed, being racist. It certainly has helped me be more cognizant of my own racist behaviors. And only with this recognition can we possibly begin our transition towards anti-racism.
The Bad
Before we can dive into the potential negative consequences of this definition, we must first reflect on the racism “spectrum” that anti-racists like Kendi and Oluo describe. On the lesser end of the spectrum lies “racial discrimination” — ideas, actions, inactions that hurt individuals of color but do not pose consequences to the daily lives of people of color — and on the higher end of the spectrum lies “racist power” — the policies and policymakers that negatively influence and affect the daily lives of people of color.
Oluo demarcates this spectrum beautifully in her talk:
The personal outcomes for people of color in our society is not built upon how many racial slurs have been hurled at them in their lifetime. It is not black households in this country have 13 times less net worth than white households because they were called the n-word this many times, and every time, their bank account dropped. That's not how race works.
Furthermore, there are plenty of people who would shout racial slurs at me all day, and outside of that moment of terror, which it does have, they have no other impact on my life. There are plenty of people who dedicate their lives to racism who aren't registered to vote, who don't hold any positions of social power, who kind of stick around with other white people who hate people of color and never leave that weird little hovel. They are impacting me nearly as much as someone who has a Black Lives Matter poster in their window, but then votes for tighter policing because she's a little scared about the way the demographics of her neighborhood is changing. When it comes to my safety and my ability to live, she is making a much bigger negative impact on my life and the life of my family and the life of my friends. And that's where we have to realize that in a system that only requires that you do nothing in order to continue to perpetrate itself, your intentions don't mean squat.
Ijeoma Oluo: "So You Want to Talk About Race" | Talks at Google
Although both Kendi and Oluo clearly delineate the more racist from the less racist, and attempt to get around the complexity by relying on adjectives like “racial” rather than “racist,” they still rely on the same word to describe both sides of the spectrum.
I see a few potential consequences of this expansiveness.
One (on the less worse and potentially less likely side): if the definition is adopted widely, it leaves us bereft of a descriptor with enough weight to signal that behaviors and policies are especially repugnant or pernicious. And when it comes to calling out truly consequential policies or actions that have impacted the lives of people of color, I would want to harness all the shameful power that a word can muster, rather than rely on a word that has lost all its sharp edges. The New Yorker’s Kelefa Sanneh puts it this way: “If the word ‘racist’ is capacious enough to describe both proud slaveholders and Barack Obama [as Kendi does ...] then it may start to lose the emotional resonance that gives it power in the first place.”
For another, it’s hard to de-stigmatize a word when you’re still using it to describe all manner of racist behaviors and policies. Indeed, when it comes to defanging the “r” word, even the scrupulous Kendi sometimes falls short.
As Sanneh points out in his review, How to be an Anti-Racist is not only anti-racist manifesto but also memoir, and Kendi cannot avoid relying on the pejorative use of the word when he goes back in time to chronicle the painful, racist behaviors that he has experienced:
There are a few moments in the book, though, when Kendi uses the word in a more colloquial, less rigorous sense. In the third grade, he had a white teacher who was, Kendi thought, quicker to call on white students, and quicker to punish nonwhite ones. One day, after seeing a shy black girl ignored, Kendi staged an impromptu sit-in at chapel. Years later, he says that the teacher was one of a number of “racist White people over the years who interrupted my peace with their sirens.” In a moment like this, “racist” seems less like a sticker and more like a tattoo: the word stings because it seems to convey something distasteful and profound about the person it describes. Even for the exponent of a new definition of racism, older ones are not easily banished.
Kendi has no word but “racist” to describe and shame the people that inflicted harm on his Black body throughout his life. He has no choice but to rely on the charged, colloquial use of the word. And I would wager that most people are less meticulous than Kendi.
And so, at best, in a scenario where we as a society all use the word “racist” more frequently, because we are more accurately describing our flawed world and the flawed striving people within it, this mixed messaging could cause some confusion, making it difficult to parse what is more or less racist.
But what happens in a scenario where we not only use the word “racist” more frequently — but also as pejoratively as any colloquial user of the word? Unfortunately, we are finding out.
The Ugly
When the word “racist” is bandied about — ostensibly in its anti-racist form but still wielding its pejorative garb — there is a significant consequence: what is less racist receives just as much attention and energy, if not more, than what is more racist.
For example, we’ve all now seen examples in the media or on social media where one wrong word or action, no matter where it lies on the racist spectrum, resulted in negative attention, shame, or real harm (i.e. job loss or harassment). I can name a handful (less extreme) examples from my personal life as well. In the past few weeks, I have been on multiple e-mail threads where a would-be anti-racist was shamed and righteously shut down by other “card-carrying” anti-racists for racist language; I’ve ceased contributing those list-serves out of fear of saying the wrong thing. And I have two friends who are contemplating leaving companies they believe in, because they feel they aren’t anti-racist enough for the culture; if they speak up, they know they’ll be labeled racist or worse, and their jobs will be at risk.
Some would say that this is a small price to pay to advance the work of anti-racism (and, moverover, that when it comes to conversations around race, people of color have been dealing with far worse realities and risks for far longer than White people). But I would argue that this is not the work of anti-racism. Anti-racism, as I understand it, is so challenging precisely because it not only demands advocacy and resistance but also compassion and patience.
Are these responses serving the cause of anti-racism? Or are they seeking to wield the colloquial venom of the word “racist” so they can punish those who are less advanced on their journeys?
In the examples above, the offending actions included a defensive tone, an uninformed decision, and an insensitive work practice. Here were perfect opportunities for the kind of understanding supposedly baked into the definition of “racist,” to turn converts to the cause. Instead, these people were left with two options. Either remain silent — as my friends and the email offender have done — and in all likelihood silently question and evaluate their commitment to anti-racism as a movement, or they learn how to make the motions of anti-racism in order to avoid shaming.
Indeed, unfortunately, there seems more to be gained from simulating anti-racism these days than getting into the real, difficult work of it. Symbolic gestures — the hanging of a Black Lives Matter poster, the taking down of a statue, the posting of a hashtag — eclipse the work required to, say, vote conscientiously or advocate for affordable housing.
And while this is bad enough for an individual or organization, it’s even worse — and unfortunately more common — for a politician or policymaker. Performing anti-racist actions distracts attention and energy away from dismantling racist policies, the very thing that is most critical to creating an anti-racist world.
And the stakes are real. Attention and energy matter. If this moment is a tipping point, as it seems that it may well be for my country, if we are poised at the summit of a crest of inequity, then we must leverage that potential energy now — and point that energy in the right direction.
I’d like to end with a quote from someone who’s been working to fight inequities long before anti-racist was a buzzword and before I started grappling with the concept. When I asked Salima Bhimani about this moment in our history, about the ways that people are responding and reacting, and what they are getting wrong, she replied:
Right now is the moment to harness energy, in this direction of having that north star, of really thinking about what we can achieve in the long-term. This is not short-term. For people who have lived inequities their whole lives, their ancestors have lived them, this is not short-term. We’re not going to change institutions in a moment, in a wink. But what the moment is showing us is that when we apply pressure, when we’re willing to do the hard work, things can change.
So much good work has been done over the last weeks, decades, centuries. My country and I are finally awake to it. Let’s take this moment and find the energy to honor that work and each other — in so doing, I believe things can change. We can create the anti-racist world we wish to live in.
I’ve also noticed that the shifting meaning of the word “racism” is causing confusion.
In all the years that I’ve known you, you’ve made zero racist remarks, supported zero racist policies and judged zero people on the color of their skin. Instead, you lived abroad, learned new languages, made friends with people of a variety of cultural backgrounds (and skin colors), and tried to live your life being a kind and decent person.
So, I’m trying to imagine what your “racist behaviors” were but my guess is they’re of the micro-aggression sort. Like the time Megan attended a conference and offered to help a black woman find a seat in the audience, only to learn that she was (gasp!) a speaker. Never mind that Megan was trying to be kind. The speaker was offended, therefore it was offensive.
Then the speaker gave a talk titled something like “Why I don’t trust white women and can’t be friends with them”. (This title is, apparently, not racist).
That’s how insidious this ideology is: it tries to convince you that you’re guilty of being complicit in white supremacy, that you should atone for the sins of your ancestors, that you should soul-search and “educate yourself” and “do better”. At the same time, racism is inescapable for white people, or — as Robin DeAngelo puts it — “a positive white identity is an impossible goal.” (I was baffled to find out that this statement is also not racist).
I also had to laugh learning that your friends were shamed on a listserv for not being anti-racist enough. I hate to imagine what would have happened if someone like me had spoken up and criticized anti-racism as a deeply flawed ideology that harms people of all races and is actually making race relations worse.
In any case, I’m glad you guys are writing publicly on these topics and I’m looking forward to reading more.