I have White privilege. I’m biracial, and honestly I identify more with my Asian side, but the fact is that I “pass” as White, regardless of my sense of self. That means:
· I do not get characterized because of the color of my skin.
· People don’t compliment me on my English or ask me where I’m really from.
· Nobody ever assumes that what I’ve achieved has been through anything other than my own efforts.
· I can move into a “nice” neighborhood without fear of my new neighbors harassing me.
· I’ve never been called a credit to my race.
· I haven’t ever been called out in a public space as an ethnic carrier of COVID-19.
· At my elite undergrad college, my presence in public spaces was never questioned.
· I can shop anywhere without being followed by security.
There are plenty more places my privilege shows up, but I wanted to start with the basic recognition that I have it. If you’re like me in those terms, we need to be aware of the ways we can be allies to our friends who don’t get those advantages. The president of American Psychological Association calls our national racism a pandemic, but this is one we can fight.
Here are some things we can do.
1. Speak up when you hear other people saying things that make you uncomfortable. This is hard for most of us, but I like to approach it by asking a question: “Why did you say that?” “What about that joke is funny to you?” That gives me the room to follow up with something like, “Comments like that make me uncomfortable. I’d really appreciate it if you could avoid them in the future.” There are some good resources online for active bystanders.
2. Be willing to listen. It’s natural to feel defensive, and of course our own feelings are valid, but giving space to, and assuming the integrity of, the people who are telling you about the racism they’ve faced is powerful. We don’t have to go to that “not all White people” place.
3. Find resources. I love Lee Mun Wah’s excellent movie “The Color of Fear,” which is available on Amazon Prime, among other places. I also like Robin DiAngelo’s book White Fragility and Between the World and Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates.
4. Sometimes the conversation isn’t about us. This is something I struggle with, not out of some sort of savior complex, but simply because I’m a talker. I process information by talking about it, asking questions, inserting my own experiences. I’m aware of this tendency, though, so when I’m in spaces where I’m clearly not the topic, I sit on my hands and ask questions only about resources and the like.
5. Hold each other up. Affirm that the bad things that happen to our friends aren’t things they deserve, commiserate, and honor what they say, even if you don’t agree. We don’t all see things the same way, which I think is what makes humans interesting, but we all see things some way, and it’s tempting to filter things through our own experiences. But I can tell you from the other side that it feels a lot more supportive when someone says, “Oh my god, that sucks! I’m sorry” than when they have reasons I shouldn’t take my experience the way I do.
6. Finally, don’t turn to your friends and colleagues of color for their opinions on this. For instance, my mother doesn’t mind the word “Oriental” and I hate it. I can’t tell you that one of those is more authentically The Asian Opinion. I can tell you why I have my opinion, but if you had asked me to do that in July of 1892, in the aftermath of the murder of Vincent Chin, I doubt I’d have felt up to it. Instead, just be your regular kind self. You’ve got this.
