Until the lions tell their tale....

                   Some Reflections on White Fragility

“Until the lions tell their tale, the story of the hunt will always glorify the hunter.” – African Proverb

There are currently a plethora of lists for those of us who want to learn the history we missed, think differently, try to be supportive, etc., since George Floyd was killed and many of us decided to wake up. If you are looking for lists and want to do some of this work, I recommend Traci Thomas's non-fiction anti-rasicm book list at https://bookshop.org/lists/antiracist-reading-list.  She also has a fiction list.  I am well aware that white people are being criticized for starting book clubs and thinking that us liberal progressives can change the world by reading, but it is a start.  

I read both fiction and non-fiction, although I spend more time with fiction, and I know that my recent life has politicized me and broadened what I read.  I have spent this spring with two or three books going--usually one non-fiction that requires slow reading and thinking, and two fiction.  In the past month, I decided to read White Fragility:  Why It's So Hard for White People to Talk About Racism, by Robin DiAngelo (spoiler alert--she's white) and I also read a companion piece in Slate called What's Missing From "White Fragility" by Lauren Michele Jackson, who is an outstanding cultural critic.  

DiAngelo is a good place to start, if you are new to this kind of reading.  She has gotten a lot of negative press for being white and doing the work she does, but I'd rather have people read and think than not at all.  Jackson, when asked what she thinks of the book, hesitates but then she responds that it feels very intuitive to her.  I would echo that response.

The large point in this book and in so much of the writing about white responses to racism is that virtually any comment about race to white people makes us blanche and curl up like rollypollys.  Everyone's attention then gets focused back on making us OK, which maintains the status quo and quickly shuts down any further discussion or learning.  

I personally agree with this, but we all need to visit/re-visit/dig around in this concept. As I read, I know there are so many times I have done things wrong, as a truly well-meaning person working in programs intended to support diversity.   Robin DiAngelo says that all of the work we do on race is on a continuum--the best we can hope for is to push the needle ahead, many times one step forward and two steps back.  The important thing is not to stop.  Be gracious in our failings and find people who will support us but know that it is not their job to do our work.  

I do want to touch on two specific points.  First, one of the toughest chapters in DiAngelo's book is called White Women's Tears.  White women's responses to distress carry so much historical freight.  I know that I have cried with black firends and colleagues afer having been told about something that I did or said that was unintentionally racist.  My tears, again, put the emphasis on how I feel and on taking care of MY emotions, not having me understand and learn what I have done and how I can fix future interactions.  This is work that I have to do, and I was so appreciative of that chapter.  

Early in June I went to a Black Lives Matter protest and peaceful walk in Oconomowoc.  There has been criticism of white people marching in white suburbs, but I think that again, we start where we are, even as I might roll my eyes at how safe all this is for us.  While I was standing with my sign and my mask, good citizen that I am, the white woman next to me said "I am so glad I came.  I've needed this."  I have to practice an answer for this.  The hunters are still telling the story.