Addressing My Privilege: Why I say “White People”

First and foremost, it is important for me to state up front that my thoughts here are not new. I do not desire to stand up alone on a stage, speaking as if I, as a white woman, have any authority on the manner. I am not the originator of the discussion on racism, and the way I present my thoughts is entirely influenced by the Black people I have read, listened to, and walked with. If any of my piece resonates with you as a reader, I ask you to seek out original thinkers and speakers. Black people who have lived experience, wisdom, and convicting words. My strongest attribution for the way I present this information goes directly to Lace Watkins, who runs Lace on Race. 

White people are…

With those words, I can raise the instant defenses of a majority of, well, white people. 

“I am a person, thank you.” 

“Isn’t that racist?”

“Well, not me.”

“Blanket statements are not true.”

Sound or feel familiar?

If you know me at all, I like to discuss difficult subjects through pictures, metaphors, and analogies. They help me wrap my head around challenging information. So, bear with me while I take you on a roundabout journey.

Degenerative Brain Injury is found in 87% of former football players. In fact, a study of 202 deceased people who had played football at various levels, from high school to the NFL, showed that NFL players had a rate of 99% CTE (chronic traumatic enchephalophy).

Other high contact sports have varying rates of brain injury among players, but there is something going on specifically with football that makes the rate of injury so high (increasing with time spent in the game and level of expertise). The game is trauma. It is the point. The bulk of players are dedicated to inflicting trauma upon each others’ body to advance the game’s mission. The longer one is immersed in the game, the more the effects of trauma intensify. Football players are at high risk for traumatic brain injury. “The recognition of these injuries and the potential for long-term sequelae have led some physicians to call for a reduction in the number of contact practices, a postponement of tackling until a certain age, and even a ban on high school football.”

Still with me? 

Where am I going with this example? Well, I view human interactions, culture, and social systems similar to a sports game. Humans have this ability to create cities of thought, behavior, and power assignment that apply to a broad community. There are rules and restrictions. There are communication patterns. There are deeply held narratives about ethics, us vs. them, and life goals.

It helps me to visualize culture as many buildings that we create together. In a specific building, systems of power (who gets what, how, and why) are the foundation bricks. Behaviors that reinforce the building are supporting beams. Some buildings have connecting skywalks that make it simple to gain access to a hierarchy of buildings.

Hopefully, if you are here, I can take this next step with you. I want to briefly talk about misogyny or toxic masculinity. If you are a woman, chances are you have a familiarity with this topic. Misogyny is a culture. It is a building that is held up by foundation blocks and supporting beams. The top rooms of misogyny are horrific. Rooms of rape culture, domestic violence, sexual abuse, and more. All men participate in misogyny. Now, women to a certain degree also participate, but in order to truly tackle the structure that is misogyny (and the deep violence and harm it enables), we have to be able to talk about the individuals it is designed to advance, protect, and bestow power to, which is men. 

What often happens in these discussions is that the very group of people that benefit from the culture of misogyny feel we must only discuss the rooms of extreme violence. We can only talk explicitly about the men staying in the rooms of rape or domestic violence. 

What is missing? 

Well, we are missing all of the supporting beams and foundation blocks. Every single man benefits from the top worst rooms. As supporting beams, they still benefit from the shelter and protection of the building itself. They actually hold up the building and keep the top rooms operating. Even if one is only a window frame, one is still a part of the entire building. To take down the building, we have to be able to talk about how ALL MEN are supporting the building. 

The building is trauma. It is the point. For one to not be a part of the building, one has to intentionally, and with accountability, remove themselves from the building. The catch? The supporting individual has to be willing to recognize their participation in the system, in the building.

So, let’s pivot to race (as Lace so often says).

White supremacy is a culture. It is a building just like misogyny (in fact these two have a well worn skywalk path). The top rooms are slavery, the KKK, the prison system, and much more. It is an old building. Generations have lived, breathed, and died reinforcing this building. All white people participate in white supremacy. Like misogyny, we need to be able to talk about the individuals white supremacy is designed to advance, protect, and bestow power to….that is, white people. Every single white person benefits from white supremacy. We are supporting beams in a system decades in the making. We hold up the building and keep it operating. 

The many buildings that make up the larger culture of a country or people are cities. There are certain buildings that are central to our city. They are the tallest skyscrapers. The tourist attractions. The lasting images and monuments that anyone living in the city can see. Unfortunately, these buildings tend to be testaments to the darkest, deepest human violence. White supremacy is one of those skyscrapers.

Some of you may have been connecting the different threads I have been throwing at you. If you are still wondering how all of the pieces weave together, I will walk it through a bit. Similar to football, white supremacy and misogyny (and more) are a sort of social game. There are rules, boundaries, goals, and a value system of players. There are certain aspects of the game that are so interwoven that they truly are the point of the game. 

Body trauma is an essential part of football. Removing it means changing the game in a significant way. In a related way, trauma is an essential part of human cultures like misogyny and white supremacy. The trauma is the point. The building is designed to hold up the top rooms of harm and violence. 

If we want to be a healthy, functional culture and community that is committed to preventing violence and harm to ALL participating individuals, we have to be able to talk about the tallest buildings in our city. We have to recognize which buildings we have regular access to. We can’t just point to the penthouse suites that are 4 floors above our own. We HAVE to talk about how our room is installed in the building of harm. We have to recognize what exactly makes us a VIP member who gains access with a scan of our ID at the front door. 

We have to be able to say that we, as white people, have an ID card of whiteness that gives us access to the building of white supremacy. We HAVE to be able to talk about how we use the lounge on the weekends, and wander into the all-you-can-eat morning buffets. We cannot do that without stating explicitly one of the biggest qualifications to gain access to this building. Our whiteness. 

It is an observation not a stereotype. The only way for us to not participate in the building, is to be aware that we are currently comfortably installed in apartment 3B in the building of white supremacy. We have to walk to the closet that holds shoe boxes of pictures. Pictures of great great grandma and grandpa proudly stirring the cement and laying the bricks that built the foundation of the building we now live in. Talk to cousin Wendy about her executive position as manager and gatekeeper of the front desk. We have to admit our residence before we can leave it.

Moving out is difficult. It is a long process, and if we ever manage to make it to the courtyard or even outside the fence line, we still visit our friends. We still stop by for that buffet every Saturday. We still get to eat anywhere in the city for $5 off because with or without our ID card, we are recognizable.

Metaphors and images aside. I, a white person, participate in and benefit from white supremacy. It is a core tenet of our country (and many others). It is foundational. If I continue to bristle when someone points out my membership to white supremacy as a white person, I will continue to support the system of harm. I wish to see our culture change. In order to do that, I need to lean in when someone says, “White people are…” I need to hold myself accountable and ask, “How do I benefit here due to harm of others?”


6 responses to “Addressing My Privilege: Why I say “White People””

  1. Rhonda Eldridge Avatar

    I know I need to dig deeper when my nose scrunches up when I read something here. It is my sign that my white supremacy is showing and I am trying to look away from it. Every time it happens – when I say something or think something or read something and have that reaction, I know I need to investigate for the racism in herent.

  2. Danielle Joy Holcombe Avatar
    Danielle Joy Holcombe

    Interesting. Once you mention location, I notice that you are right. A clench for me is in my gut. It’s defensive and “protective” but bristle is ….. I don’t know exactly. In my shoulders, the hair on my neck. It isn’t protective in the same way.

    Maybe I’m completely off base from what you meant, but this is something I want to think about more and would love to hear your deeper thoughts too. (Claire, Lace, anyone else)

  3. Lace Watkins Avatar
    Lace Watkins

    In a different location.

    Yes.

  4. Claire Avatar
    Claire

    Thank you. I am going to make it a goal to use the word “bristle” to describe the part of my response to general “white people. . .” statements. B/c it’s different, and in a different location than the clench.

  5. Laura Berwick Avatar
    Laura Berwick

    I’m really digging into this architectural analogy. I’m finding useful in contextualizing both what I uphold (how am I a brick in the wall) and what upholds me (what rooms do I live in).

    I don’t really have any strikingly novel reflections as of yet, but I can see this is going to be a helpful tool for me.

  6. Danielle Joy Holcombe Avatar
    Danielle Joy Holcombe

    While in the past, I definitely bristled at the “white people are…” comments, I find I am now grateful for them. I like the way you used “lean in” there because that’s almost how I feel when I see a post that begins that way. I move closer. I incline my ear to listen better. I need to hear those comments as they help me find the places where I continue to leverage my access to white supremacy.

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