Racism had a beginning. And it can have an end. What if I told you we could end racism, right now?
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| Nanci Luna Jimenez |
Over the past quarter century, I have witnessed trends in this field come and go. I usually learn about the latest fad by listening to what new clients are calling for—often with some urgency because they won’t get funding if they don’t check this or that box for this or that foundation. Sometimes we have been able to help these clients understand the goal is to end racism through healing: not crafting an equity lens or implementing an implicit bias training. Sometimes we couldn’t. Perhaps pressures from foundations, boards, or constituents were too immediate. Or perhaps the goal seemed too lofty.
Until now, I have avoided commenting on these trends and focused on quietly sharing our approach with the people we can reach through our work. If you attend one of our workshops, you’ll learn why I think the “privilege” narrative actually reifies supremacy and keeps dominance in place, rather than dismantling it, or why I question the use of “microaggressions” to describe acts of oppression (“micro” to who?), or my cautions of a Diversity, Equity and Inclusion program built around “implicit bias,” which denies or minimizes the role of institutional power and dominance (not all “implicit biases” have the same impact). Perhaps because the current moment is asking more of each of us, or perhaps because I’m hopeful that we in this struggle for racial, economic, and social justice can avoid some traps I see emerging in the current “anti-racism” trend, I’ve decided to share some of my thinking with you today.
I understand the significant shift from denying being “racist” or claiming “non-racist” to actively affirming being “anti-racist.” (I won’t restate the arguments Ibram X. Kendi makes in his book How to Be an Anti-Racist.) Yet, I would argue (and do so in our workshops) that neither people nor our actions neatly divide into two discreet, dualistic, and dueling camps. While it is tempting and even comforting to know which camp you are in and who’s in the other camp, it’s not as simple as this. People can’t be summed up as “bad” racists or non-racists and “good” anti-racists. The need to create, perpetuate, and defend “anti” or “us/them” paradigms is rooted in fear. And fear, while ever-present, has arguably reached new heights in 2020.
Not unlike “privilege,” I’ve witnessed the weaponizing of “anti-racist” and its dualistic other—“racist.” From this frame, our energy and efforts turn to being against the “bad” or “racist” people—rather than working to end racism. “Anti-racist” has been worn as a badge or marker and used to dismiss, demonize, and cancel people. Think about that. In our fear of being labeled “racist,” of being put into the “wrong” camp, we use “anti-racist” to justify our judgments of people’s worth or commitment to social justice. And conversely, to assert our own value and commitment to social justice. The trap of this framing? None of us will ever measure up.