Anti-Racism Begins With Me and White Supremacy. Bold Action Starts Here.

The last eight weeks have been one hell of an eye-opening experience for me and I have author Layla F. Saad to thank for seeing how my White Apathy has contributed to systemic racism in the world and especially in the United States. I'm calling myself out here. To reference her book Me and White Supremacy as a "book" is to miss the point of her incredibly powerful work. It is a daily practice of deep reflection and journaling exercises in order to unpack how I have benefited from the pillars of white supremacy while allowing Black, Indigenous, and People of Color (BIPOC) to suffer.

Despite doing all of this work, I still found myself stopping short of writing this article. In truth, I can easily hide behind my White Silence and reap the benefits of a society that favors cisgender heterosexual white males of privilege like me. I grew up in a household that repeatedly reinforced an ideal that "we don't see color" and that being Color Blind somehow made us part of the right side of history; that the only racism that truly existed in this country was a small minority of Klan members and overtly racist skinheads. That narrative was compelling. I truly wanted to believe that Dr. Martin Luther King had marshaled in a new era -- one where everyone had an equal chance to win and succeed.

Experiencing the Experience of Racism

Then I watched this video about black children selecting between a white doll and a black doll and another one about privilege, class and inequality illustrated in the form of a $100 high school race and they broke my heart. I decided it was time to "do my part" and so I began reading books like White Fragility, So You Want to Talk About Race, and How to Be An Inclusive Leader. I also began attending diversity and inclusion conferences and workshops including Better Man and Transformation of Race. It was in Transformation of Race that I asked the worst question a white male of privilege can ask: "So, what can I do?" As author Robin DiAngelo points out in her forward to Me and White Supremacy, the only good response to that question is, "How do you not know?"

And so began my journey of unpacking all the many ways I benefit from a white supremacist society and how my own ignorance of my racial privilege is just as damaging as overt racism -- perhaps more so because I'm so rarely called out for it.

Doing The Work of Anti-Racim

While I'm willing to transparently share the ugliness that I discovered within myself, it's the journey that I want to speak into here and now. A good friend of mine whom I respect deeply invited me to her book group on Me and White Supremacy. My first reaction was resistance. After all, hadn't I already gone to workshops and read books? I've never been a fan of book groups and what she was asking for was a 2-hour weekly block of time combined with reading chapters and doing reflective journaling.

That seemed like a lot of work and wasn't I already doing so much with the launch of my new book, The Three Rules of Marriage, my job at Positive Intelligence as well as my own training and coaching business? How could I possibly add all those hours to my already jam-packed schedule?

And there it was -- my first a ha moment. I imagined what it would be like for BIPOC who, in addition to their daily work, managed constant microaggressions, bigotry, and overt racism on a daily basis. While I had the freedom to float in and out of this topic of racism, lives were at stake. Last year alone, 1,018 people were shot and killed by police, and "The rate at which black Americans are killed by police is more than twice as high as the rate for white Americans." Investing the time and doing the work of anti-racism was a very small price to pay knowing how many lives are at stake.

The Time Is Now

As part of this work, I discovered my own White Apathy. This is my ability and often my keen desire to "turn off" and disengage in the work of anti-racism. When things get heated and uncomfortable, I have the option to disengage entirely and go on with my day. A learned how the concept of Color Blindness marginalized the experiences of BIPOC and contributed to the white supremacy that exists today. I realized that I contributed to BIPOC Tone Policing when focusing on the tone, energy and passion of the delivery of the message rather than the message itself. My White Silence meant that I could remain in the background and say nothing even when I witnessed racist acts. Even if someone else was being called out for racism, I noticed myself identifying with White Exceptionalism thinking that I was "one of the good ones." And that I valued Optical Allyship because I was more concerned about being called out myself than doing the work of anti-racism.

And I'm just scratching the surface here. My work filled 28 pages of reflections despite my opening stance resisting the idea that I was in any way, shape, or form a racist or contributing to racism. Now I know better and so I'm working to do and be better. In fact, this article is one of the committments I made at the conclusion of this book. As a writer, I get to share my experience here and invite others to get uncomfortable with me. Voting and going to rallies in support of BIPOC is important, but I have learned that it's not enough. Not being a racist is not the same thing as doing the work of anti-racism. Until white people are willing to risk the advantages and privileges we have in support of BIPOC, racism will continue to thrive.

I'm committed to being the change I want to see in this world, and the change of anti-racism begins with doing the daily reflections and work in Me and White Supremacy. Thank you Layla Saad, for helping me see what has been in my blind spot. Because of you, I know better. Now that I know better, I'm committed to doing and being better.