Tag Archives: Racism

Embodied Racism

This blog was originally published April 3, 2014 on the New Existentialist Blog. It was republished here on after the New Existentialist Blog was discontinued. Some updates to the article were made.

“Racism is located in your body.” I first heard this stated when I was struggling with the realization that someone very important to me was having a difficult time accepting that I was engaged to a Black woman. As I was talking about how painful it was for me that this person, who I knew was a good person with strong character, could not seem to get past their prejudice, it was gently pointed out to me that, “Racism is located in your body. If it was just in one’s mind, it would be easy to overcome and change. But it is not easy, because racism is in our body.”

I was trying to change my friend’s mind through logical arguments, along with some attempts to motivate the change by pointing out that he was hurting the woman I loved through his prejudices. My approach was not effective. Although my fiancée (now my wife) also advised, “Just let him get to know me. Once he gets to know me, he’ll get over it,” it was not until this insight that racism is in the body set in that I began to accept that I could not change my friend through logical argument. As I let this go and trusted the relational process (primarily the relationship between him and my fiancée), he was able to gradually work through most of his prejudices.

Racists Are Not Necessarily Bad People

We often want to categorize racists as bad people; however, there are several problems with this. For one, to label people “good” or “bad” is an oversimplification. No one is all good or all bad. Second, I would affirm the common assertion that everyone has prejudices to some degree. But these are more philosophical suppositions that could take us away from the point I would like to make.

Many intelligent people with strong character, good intentions, and solid morals struggle with racism and other forms of prejudice. If racism were simple enough that we could rationally disprove it, and through this process, end racism, the destructiveness of racism would be much more contained. If all good people, and all people who would like to have no racism, could easily overcome it, there would be much less racism in the world. The problem lies deeper; it is in our bodies.

How does racism get in the body? One way that racism gets in our body is through experience. This can be role modeling as well as direct experience. For instance, children are often exposed to racism. Regardless of whether this is through word or action, it can begin to become internalized through this modeling. Second, it can occur through bad experiences with individuals or small groups from different cultures, which then gets generalized to all people from the culture. Often this bad experience may be rooted in being uncomfortable with differences or difficulty understanding soemone from a different culture.

Many would argue that the roots of racism are encoded in our genes. It is not that there is a racist gene in our DNA, but rather a tendency to identify with one’s own group for safety reasons while being distrustful or suspicious of those identified as other. Terror Management Theory, which is an existential social psychology based upon the work of Ernest Becker, maintains that particularly when we are reminded of our mortality we tend to identify more closely with our own group and often against other groups.

Empathy for Racists

As I will discuss, I am not suggesting that people who are causing harm with their racism deserve empathy, nor am I suggesting people who have had racism directed at them should have empathy for those who have harmed them. People causing harm due to racism need to be held accountable. However, accountability and empathy can, at times, coexist.

I consider myself to be a highly empathetic person. Yet, it is difficult for me to be empathetic with racists, in part because I generally don’t want to be empathetic with them. However, for those who would like to overcome their racism, empathy can be a powerful tool of change. Empathy takes us beyond the surface level. One of the reasons that empathy is effective in bringing about change is precisely because it takes us beyond the rational; it takes us to the embodiment of the struggle.

Empathy is also effective at disarming defenses. When someone voices, “I know I am prejudice toward black people, but I don’t want to be,” and are met with empathy, this may allow them to explore this and begin a healing process. Yet, this is not always the case. When they are met with condemnation and judgment, or pushing them to quickly overcome these struggles, they often put defenses up to emotionally protect themselves from the perceived attack. In protecting themselves, they also protect their racism, even if inadvertently so.

It should not be expected for someone who is the target of racism to be empathetic with the person who harmed them. To place the responsibility of change on people who have experienced racism is an unfair burden that can cause more harm. Too often, society expects people of color to carry the burden of change in addressing racism. This is addressing injustice with further injustice. For White individuals such as myself, there may be times where the use of empathy combined with holding people accountable can be effective in promoting change.

I am not suggesting that there is not a place for the rational or impassioned arguments in the struggle to overcome racism. Nor am I suggesting that we should be soft on people who do hurtful things—intentionally or unintentionally—because of their prejudices. Quite to the contrary, I believe it is necessary at times to be confrontational and speak from our righteous indignation. Yet, while the confrontation may help someone recognize the need to change, rarely is it successful in helping implement the change. Confrontation must be followed by empathy, and it is the empathy that generally empowers the change. For advocates and activists, the shift from confrontation to empathy is difficult, but an important part of the art of promoting social change.

Conclusion

Racism is complex. This is a primary reason why racism continues to thrive even though it is no longer considered socially acceptable. Because racism is complex, any attempt to counter or overcome racism requires something more than simple or superficial solutions; it even requires something more than sophisticated logical arguments. Like most forms of deeper change, overcoming racism requires relationship. The relationships required to overcome racism are, in many ways, risky relationships and they are not for everyone. It is hard to open oneself up to someone who demonstrates racism. For us to overcome racism, we a wide array of strategies with different people playing different roles. Without compassion, concern, and empathy for racists, we will never succeed in the goal of eradicating racism. Timing is important when considering compassion and empathy for people struggling with racism. If it is offered when someone is still entrenched in racism, it can pacify them and work against overcoming their racism. However, when someone authentically accepts their struggles with racism and commits to change, compassion and empathy in the right context may help them attain the change they are seeking.

What the Zimmerman Verdict Means to Me

This Blog was originally published July 15, 2013 on the New Existentialist Blog. It was republished after the New Existentialist Blog was discontinued.

I was surprised by the intensity of my emotions when I heard the news of the Zimmerman verdict earlier this evening. George Zimmerman shot and killed Trayvon Martin, an unarmed African American youth. After a highly publicized trial, he was found not guilty. As I read the news alert, I immediately responded in anger. The next several minutes my emotions quickly shifted back and forth between anger and sadness while my thoughts were continually drawn to my sons. As I write this, I feel much less safe in the world, particularly in regard to my children.

Being a Father

I am the father of three biracial children. I am a white male, born of privilege. My wife is black; any privilege she has now was hard won. Our three sons will be labeled as black, African American, and biracial. I always knew that I had much to learn about raising biracial children, but I clearly remember a series of events that really brought this home to me. Shortly after the birth of my first son, I went to hear Derald Wing Sue speak at a conference. Although I had been familiar with Sue’s work, it was on this day that I came to admire him much more deeply. His presentation not only reflected impressive scholarship, but it was honest, vulnerable, and powerful. He shared about his reaction to a shooting of an unarmed black man in New York City. Although I no longer remember specifically, I believe the story was the shooting of Amadou Diallo, the same incident that inspired Bruce Springsteen’s powerful song,
“American Skin (41 Shots).” Sue shared about how he did not know what it was like for the mother of an African American son to have to teach him to keep his hands in sight if pulled over by the police. This is not because of anything negative about the police, and it is not intended to suggest the police are more racist than the general population. Rather, it is asserting that they are no different than everyone else. At that moment of Sue’s story, I realized some of the very painful lessons that I would have to teach my sons. As I sat there, I just wanted to weep.

A few weeks later, I was pulled over for speeding. I was acutely aware of my privilege at that moment. I have never had to think twice about reaching for my wallet or reaching to the glove compartment for my insurance. I never kept my hands on the wheel as the officer approached. I never felt I had to be nice for purpose of my safety, just general courtesy. I tried to envision what it would be like in several years when I would have to tell my son that he could not do the things I can—that if he was pulled over by the police, he should not reach for his wallet or insurance, and that he should be extra nice. Again, I just wanted to weep.

Tonight, as I read the verdict, I thought of my sons, so innocent and loving. I thought of my freedoms that they won’t have; I thought of their safety and the lessons they would some day need to learn. Once more, I just wanted to weep.

Racial Profiling

As a white male, I often hear talk of racial profiling. I hear what everyone hears, and I hear what my wife and sons will never hear because it is only said in groups that look very much like me. In a conversation about neighborhood safety, I hear talk of “people who don’t belong around here,” knowing that the implicit part of the message is often about the color of their skin. I hear how the color of skin is emphasized when a crime is perpetrated by a Black or Latino individual, but inconspicuously unmentioned when the person is White. Like microaggressions, it is easy to deny any racial profiling is occurring, and it easy to ridicule those who would dare suggest such a thing.

I get that it is difficult to be accused of racial profiling. At times, people are falsely accused of racial profiling and this is unfortunate. Yet, how much more difficult is it to be accused of a crime and placed in jail for the color of your skin? How much more difficult is it to fear for your life because of racial profiling? How much more difficult is it to grieve for one’s innocent son, and to do so while his murderer goes free.

The same week that Zimmerman was found not guilty in Florida, CNN reported that Marissa Alexander, a Black woman, was sentenced to 20 years in Florida for firing warning shots when her husband, against whom she had a obtained a restraining order, was coming after her. CNN also reported that Zimmerman’s lawyer, O’Mara, shortly after the verdict, made the audacious claim that Zimmerman would never had been charged with a crime if he was a Black man. And I have to think, would Zimmerman have been found not guilty had he killed an unarmed White teenager. We are not all equal in the United States; it doesn’t take much honesty to admit that.

We must not forget the potential implications of this verdict. This can be interpreted as saying that it is legal to shoot and kill an unarmed Black man, or even a teenager, for appearing suspicious or out of place if the shooter feels threatened by them, even if there is no evidence the victim was doing anything wrong. For many, just the presence of a Black man or teenager in many settings will bring the feeling of being threatened. Rarely, however, is there discussion of where that fear comes from. We need a more thorough examination and discussion of the phenomenology of this fear. It is often has little, if anything, to do with the individual who is feared.

Conclusion

We don’t all have the same freedoms. If, as existential psychologists, we don’t recognize this reality, we don’t really understand what freedom means politically or existentially. This is a painful recognition that is all too present in my life. I can’t help but believe that tonight, in the Zimmerman verdict, freedom was cheapened. As I sat down to write this piece and process my own emotions at the verdict, I just wanted to weep. Yet, I knew that, instead, I needed to scream.