Gross manifestations of white supremacy and neo-Nazism like the recent demonstrations in Charlottesville, Virginia, challenge who we are and what we are becoming as an American democracy. Troubling as they may be, such flagrant displays cause less worry than the persistent disparities and inequities they overshadow and too often mask. For many African Americans, it is less about abject, in-your-face racial bigotry and more about the death-by-a-thousand-cuts agony wrought by institutions and systems seeped in racism.
The grotesqueness of overt white power parades, brazen and bombastic racism gone viral internationally, obscures something more profound: the underlying, embedded white supremacy that manifests in less aesthetically offensive, more easily overlooked, ways. What the overwhelming majority of us readily condemn — these choreographed dances with the devil — represent only the attention-grabbing opening act. What lies beneath matters more — the stage on which such performances play out.
People are also reading…
The rallying of those crafty cretins, the Tiki torch-carrying, foaming-at-the-mouth bigots in Charlottesville, pales in comparison to what those same folks likely do in the light of their normal days. When the cavalcade ends, to what real world lives do they return?
Will they return to their jobs in human resources, making hiring and firing decision based on their racial preferences? Will they put back on law enforcement or firefighter uniforms and make race-based decisions about those whom they are duty-bound to serve and protect? Will they sit on juries, deciding the fates of young persons of color? Will they teach rainbow tribes of babies in kindergarten classes? Will they pass judgment on the home loan of an immigrant? Will they negotiate insurance claims of those to whom they feel superior? Will they steer a prospective home buyer away from a “bad” neighborhood? Will they work to restrict voting rights for the already marginalized?
The realization that monsters — ardent, incorrigible racists — live among us should frighten us all. So, too, should the fact that ghouls and goblins sometimes don plain clothes, living among us undetected and undetectable as ordinary Dicks and Janes.
Most of us revile and reject those who darken our boulevards in fire-lit spectacles like erstwhile Klan night riders; who spew their white supremacist venom, further poisoning the national conversation on race we perennially pledge to undertake. We may pity them, too. But it is not just about them. It is also about those normal, establishment types who, through position and power, impose their prejudices and passions on those of us birthed outside their chosen tribe; who decide for and about us in ways minor and grand. Racist drama draws attention and near-universal revulsion, but the mundane — routine policy and practice — wreaks havoc on the day-to-day lives of the people of color.
When those whom we count among our friends pledge silent allegiance to the tortuous torque of systemic racism, that should give us pause. When race-based inequities in criminal justice and education and employment and health care mount, that should give us pause. When reliance on the goodwill of others seems woefully misplaced, that should give us pause.
Apathy, silence, and inaction reflect complicity. They kill, slowly and imperceptibly, but just as surely as the headline-worthy heinous acts of violence upon which we too often fixate.
Do your part to dismantle systemic injustice and foster equity. Make a commitment to make a difference.
1. BE HONEST: Recognize your own biases through open discussion with others; discuss your own experiences of being hurt by prejudice; think about how you might have benefited from the oppression of others; acknowledge privilege.
2. BE SECURE: Explore your own group identities (e.g., racial, ethnic, cultural, religious, and more); be aware of intersectionality — that we all have multiple group identities. Knowing your own background will help reduce anxiety and defensiveness about other groups.
3. BE A PARTNER: Work on meaningful community projects with diverse individuals and groups.
4. BE INCLUSIVE: Expose the children in your world to diversity and inclusion at a young age through direct contact and learning opportunities.
5. BE A ROLE MODEL: Be vocal in opposing bias, bigotry, and racism, wherever it may occur.
6. BE AN ALLY: Support those who suffer bias, bigotry, and racism. Stand up and speak out.
7. BE AN ACTIVIST: Challenge institutional practices that result in oppression (e.g., of women, people of color, and the LGBTQ community).
8. BE A MEMBER: Support the efforts of organizations that oppose bias, bigotry, and racism and work to reduce social and economic disparities in the community.
9. BE A TEACHER: Teach respect for all people.
10. BE A STUDENT: Educate yourself, then educate others. Know the history of race in America. Explore social movements aimed at creating equality of opportunity for all people.
Our world will not change overnight. What you do individually is necessary, but it will never be sufficient. Nonetheless, moral courage and small victories matter. Incremental change is still change. A better world is not a perfect world, but it is a better world. It all begins with recognition of our shared humanity and, critically, a love supreme.
Hannibal B. Johnson, a Harvard Law School graduate, is an author, attorney, consultant, and college professor. He writes and lectures about the history of the Greenwood District. His books include: Black Wall Street, Up from the Ashes, and Tulsa’s Historic Greenwood District. The National Black Theatre Festival selected Johnson’s play, Big Mama Speaks — A Tulsa Race Riot Survivor’s Story, for its 2011 line-up.
