The “R” Words

There’s a certain way most white folks are conditioned to think and talk about racism in society and within systems in particular.  It’s a way that allows us to acknowledge the problem, make our repulsion known, and at the same time dissociate ourselves from it.  We’ve been able to tell ourselves that our faith tradition, commitment to social justice, career, donations or good intentions put us in the clear.  We do not feel racist and would never identify with what we perceive racist thoughts and acts to be -- the stuff of terror and the active denial of human and civil rights.  We are against the idea that someone should ever be treated differently based on the color of their skin.  Racist ideology and acts of bigotry and ignorance are an anathema to justice that decent people reject.  We may even be involved with efforts to promote equity in some way.

But the hard truth is that having benign thoughts are not enough.  If it were, racial disparities in child welfare would simply disappear.

As a field there’s been great reluctance to apply the “R” words to our work and especially to ourselves.  I can vividly recall meetings and conferences in which the words racist or racism have been used before predominantly white audiences.  The chilling effect is immediate.  Use of those words has too often been credibility disabling and the end of listening---or the ability to hear. 

  

Some brave people use those words anyway.  They are almost always women or men of color who know what the response will be-- people who have lived subject to these words, fully conscious that using them will lead to the dismissal of the wisdom they have to share. Even knowing that, they understood the importance of candidly and truthfully using the words racist and racism.

We should do much more to ensure that the pain and weariness expressed through activism around the country will be an accelerator not just of acknowledging racism in the United States, but of actively ridding ourselves and society of it.  

For too long we have failed to be real allies.   We haven’t acknowledged that racism is a living, breathing thing that is kept alive in more places and ways than ignorant minds and actions alone.  We typically fail to acknowledge our roles in perpetuating it.  And in those rare instances, we have acknowledged it we have not converted that recognition into meaningful action.

As I try to learn what it means to be antiracist, it strikes me as a practice-- the point of which is practicing, not a state that can be achieved.  Sadly, the opportunity to practice is ever-present.  The pursuit—as individuals and a system-- will require humility, enduring selflessness and the ability to stand firm in countless uncomfortable situations, likely for our lifetimes.

Those of us in majority culture, especially white guys, must commit to moving beyond intellectually recognizing our privileges, to accepting we will never know what it is like to live in the world without their benefit.  We can commit to no longer leaving the burden of naming the racism in our system to the few Black and brown faces in the room.  We can own our part in how racism is perpetuated in the ways the system operates and we operate within it and actively work to address it, no matter where we sit.

It’s going to require making sure Black, brown and Indigenous people are seen and heard.  It’s going to require us to stop requiring people of color to validate their feelings and experiences.  It’s going to require white folks to understand and use language we’ve typically been afraid of.

We will need to remain mindful that we cannot speak for communities we are not a part of and cannot claim to understand experiences we will not have.  We will need to listen more than we talk.  We’ll need to ask questions we may not like the answers to and stop doing what is not helpful.  We’ll also have to ask for guidance and grace as we continue to make missteps in our attempts to be better and do better. 

Racism and racist are honest and accurate words to describe statutes, funding streams and institutions, not just thoughts, beliefs, actions and actors.  They are the correct words; the only honest words.  The words and phrases we’ve been comfortable using in child welfare (prejudice, bias, disproportionality, overrepresentation, and disparity) are sterile and allow us to distance outcomes from painful human consequences—they are limiting and enabling. 

The bolder in the field have, at times, explicitly called for taking on structural, systemic and institutional racism, but that has not translated into widespread calls to revamp child welfare statutes, policies, funding or practices that we know harm families of color more. 

The inordinate impact of the pandemic on communities of color and events of the past many months from Central Park to Minneapolis, the Capitol Building and beyond, have heightened awareness of the urgent need for racial justice in America.  Each have exposed a magnitude of pre-existing inequity disparity, and yes, racism, across systems and life conditions that should shock and deeply sadden everyone. They can no longer be unseen. 

This lack of justice should motivate us in unprecedented ways to dismantle racist laws, policy, practice and institutions, with an explicit recognition that they were built on racist ideas.

Efforts to whitewash or revise history, deny its legacy or filter the present are acts of grave violence.  Efforts to censor words and our abilities to use them are an affront to truth.

We are indicted for our lack of action in the past.  Failure to act now will make us actively racist.

We can start by using the right words.  

Using the right words is the first step toward healing and reconciliation.  

It is the first step toward justice.

The views expressed in this blog are the author’s alone.