Just Fragile, I guess.

Due to some probably misguided effort to read some of the more influential books of our time, I found myself slogging through White Fragility by Robin DiAngelo in March.  I struggled with this book for multiple reasons.  

For starters, I already knew the premise prior to reading and had seen the real-life effects of this line of reasoning; it took some effort to read it with an open mind.  For those of you who are unfamiliar with it, the main idea is that the U.S. (and any other western colonialized nation) is built upon white supremacy, which validates and prioritizes the experiences and perspectives of white people over those of other ethnic groups.  Because we exist in and benefit from this racist system (racism being the mix of political and social power and race), white people are inherently racist and are complicit in racism regardless of their actions, choices, or efforts to be anti-racist.  It is therefore incumbent on white people to recognize this racism and how it hurts others who are not white and seek to ameliorate that harm.  The title comes from the idea that white people have been shielded from their own racism for so long that they cannot handle having it pointed out and react dismissively, defensively, or angrily without addressing the issue; ultimately these reactions only reinforce white supremacy and racism.

The first and foremost problem with this logic is that it is a Kafka trap.  If I agree with it, then I recognize that I am a racist and Ms. DiAngelo is right.  If I deny or disagree with it, then that only proves the author's point and I am still a racist.  Denying your racism just proves you’re a racist.  It can only be proven, not disproven.  That's a flawed premise.  But let's say we accept our inherent racism--what do we do about it?  How do we fix it?  According to Ms. DiAngelo, nothing.  We can't fix anything.  The lifetime of work we are morally obligated to do--the checking of our privilege, the assessing of our biases, the calling out of racism in ourselves and others and society at large--is ultimately fruitless because no matter what we do we cannot ever NOT be racist.

Now Ms. DiAngelo tries to soothe our fragility by reminding us that there is no moral weight to racism--that it simply is.  Everyone is socialized into it, therefore it is not "bad" in the traditional sense.  This begs the question of why she spent 154 pages explaining how our actions, words, emotions, perceptions, experiences, and thoughts harm others.  Harming others carries moral weight, intentionally or unintentionally.  Frankly, the first lesson you learn in debate is that you don't accept another person's definition without challenge.  Her definition of racism is tailored to validate her thesis.  I would be interested to get her perspective on whether a white person can be racist in a country that does not have a history of white colonization and has a society and political structure that is run by people who are not white.

It should be clarified that Ms. DiAngelo makes several good points.  We can't be ignorant of history and how it shapes the present.  There are racial divides in our country.  We should consider perspectives and experiences besides our own.  Our race, background, and economic status shape our perspectives.  We should identify and challenge our biases and seek to diminish or change them if they are incorrect or harmful.  We can handle being uncomfortable and shouldn't avoid hard conversations or challenging perspectives.  We should own our mistakes and offenses and seek to make amends when it's possible.  I agree with all of these things, and suggest they benefit people regardless of race.

However, I can't agree with Ms. DiAngelo on much else.  According to her, if I treat people equally, I'm ignorant and a racist. If I'm nervous or angry around people of color, I'm a racist.  If I have any expectations of black people, I'm imposing racist standards and therefore a racist.  If I feel guilt or shame, I'm centering my whiteness and therefore racist.  If I treat people as individuals, not only am I falling into the myth of individuality but I'm ignoring their race and the trauma they carry as a member of their collective group--and therefore a racist.  This is a no-win situation.  It's also a no-win situation for people of color, because either they're given preferential treatment and pandered to or they're quietly resented; this is not an effective or plausible foundation for a genuine relationship.  Further, the burden of tackling racism is placed on white people who--through DiAngelo's own logic--cannot be anything except racist because we cannot really understand anything outside our own framework of whiteness; therefore, any efforts we make to challenge or change white supremacy would only reinforce white supremacy and our place in it.  Speaking for people of color invalidates them and centers ourselves; letting them speak for themselves is white people maintaining a silent solidarity among themselves that is harmful to people of color because it upholds racism.  White Fragility is rife with these sort of contradictions.

There is a passage near the end of the book where she describes a conflict with a black colleague.  She inadvertently offends her colleague and it gets back to Ms. DiAngelo.  She feels remorse for being misunderstood and desires to apologize.  So far so good, right?  This sounds like a responsible, self-aware, adult reaction.  So, naturally, Ms. DiAngelo goes to a white colleague for what is in essence a struggle session where she admits not only the offense, but also other forms of racism that she exhibited in the encounter.  Then she goes to her black colleague and asks to be allowed to apologize, which she is graciously allowed to do, and then invites other criticism from the colleague, which she also acknowledges and apologizes for, recognizing that she will inevitably reoffend in the future and thanking her colleague for her patience with her.  Forget white fragility.  This is white cringe at its finest.

Of course, it can't possibly be lost on the reader that Ms. DiAngelo is not only a type of white savior but is also profiting handsomely from peddling racial division and white shame.  I don't mind someone making a buck, but it should be remembered that this book (and all the subsequent workshops and keynote speeches it spawned) was about making a profit as much as it was spurring white people toward accountability.

Now, I know I probably haven't changed anybody's mind, and that's fine. I appreciate that there are plenty of people who disagree with me that are good people, who care deeply about justice and have good intentions.  I also know there are people far more brilliant than I am who have issued critiques of Ms. DiAngelo's work that surpass my tirade here.  I'm glad.  Nobody's ideas--mine or Ms. DiAngelo's--are above questioning.

At the end of the day, I have to trust myself.  I can and do question my biases and try to be self-aware.  My experiences are unique to myself, but are still valid and worth considering--and while I can be and am open to influence from other perspectives, ultimately it has to be weighed against truth as far as I can discern it.  I should not outsource my actions or my conscience to others.  I acknowledge the complicated past and the complicated present.  I accept people as individuals and strive to have no preconceived assumptions of them or their experience.  I have no expectations of others outside of the general social contract.  People are individuals and deserve to be accepted as such; they can be liked or disliked on their own merits; regardless of history or experience I believe they are more resilient than Ms. DiAngelo and her colleagues tacitly assert.  I try to treat people with dignity and grace, and hope for the same in return.  Now, if I accept the premise of White Fragility, every single one of those statements underlines how racist I am.

Oh well.