half a conversation

We were just wrapping up regional orientation today, were even into the closing announcements and take-home messages, when our facilitator made an announcement that a "Radical White Anti-Racist" group had flyers for meetings up at the front of the room. "For the white corps members," the facilitator helpfully clarified.

My first reaction was to turn to Mike and crack up. He offered me five bucks to ask the facilitator if minorities were welcome at the anti-racism group. (For the record, I tried. My hand was raised, but not recognized. I was not, however, as vocal or persistent as I could have been.) Rather than listen to the rest of the announcements, we advanced theories about these meetings. Would minorities be asked to begin their own separate anti-racism group - separate but equal, of course? Would we be allowed to show up, but have to come in the side door?

It wasn't until the drive home that I realized my initial laughter had been of the "or you'll cry" variety. I made a comment about the flyer, something like "That kind of bothered me," and both of my colleagues in the car were quick to defend it. It's great, they said. White people may be just coming to terms with these things, just having their eyes opened. They want to take the first steps by talking about these issues in a setting where they're comfortable - with other like-minded people. I was floored. Racism by its very nature demands an integrated conversation, I said. No one group understands the entirety of the issue. This could be a first step, but the flyer gives no hint of a second. It's divisive. They were not hearing me at all.

We hashed it out a bit, listened to each others' sides, and went home. I hopped in the shower, my think-space, and mulled over their comments, looking for what I could learn and add to my own knowledge base. I really wanted to hear them. And yet, if indeed I understand their points, I still believe they are dead wrong. And now that I've had more time to formulate my thoughts, I will attempt to explain, from where I stand, what's wrong with an anti-racism group for white people.

Problem area #1: "They're just more comfortable sharing out their uncomfortable biases..." Fine. But the fact that white people have that choice at all - to get comfortable with themselves, and then, if they choose, to see the minority perspective - betrays immeasurable privilege. The reality of minority life, very often, is that you have to see the other side. You can't get away from it. That's what being a minority means - being surrounded by a perspective larger and more pervasive than yours. And maybe this is my issue, but as a "minority" (and God how I hate that term,) I am not entirely sympathetic to people who want to ease into the frigid waters of our racist society inch by inch, one toe at a time, while the rest of us wait there for them, up to our necks, treading water. We were thrown out there before we could swim, and we've just had to learn. No one waited for us to "get comfortable" with the idea of racism before it was something we had to face. Comfort is a luxury just as much as ignorance was, and to "ease in" denies the urgency of the problem. For every person who wants to take their time and talk amongst themselves, irreprable damage is being done to the people on the other side. It's insulting to me personally when I hear "Just sit tight, we'll be ready to talk to you about it eventually."
Besides which, a little discomfort is a good thing. If you're comfortable, you're not really pushing yourself and you're not learning. The day you are comfortable with racism is the day you've accepted it, and then who are you helping?

Problem area #2: "...among other people in their same situation."
A white person turns to a black person and admits, bravely and honestly, "I fight it every day, but deep down, I think my black students are less intelligent than my other students." Is that as deep if it's one white person turning and speaking the exact same words to another white person? It's still honest, but it's nowhere near as brave, and I would venture to say that it's still racist, to admit things to yourself and others like you but out of fear or discomfort to avoid having that conversation with the very people you are making assumptions about.

Problem area #3: Racism within the conversation.
This point I find particularly boggling: one of the girls in the car told me, point blank, that I was having problems with this group meeting just because it's white people. That if it was black people getting together to talk about black power, that would be fine, but since it's white people, I see it as white supremacy. First of all, it's offensive to me to hear that I think this is about white supremacy, just because I'm nonwhite. Those are words that I neither spoke nor implied, and I have no doubt that the group in question intends to honestly talk about racism, and that's noble. Here's the problem, though: they're talking about racism. I thought this would be obvious, but while "black power" is an inherently black issue, racism is an inherently inter-ethnic issue, not an inherently white one. Which brings me on to my last, and overwhelmingly most important, point:

Problem area #4: Dialogue cannot be one-sided.
Racism can only happen when two groups come together; I believe that for a true conversation about racism, more than one party must also be present. I want to stress that the following questions and answers are grossly oversimplified, and that the terminology does not divide cleanly down racial or any other lines, but these questions are at the very heart of the issue and therefore need to be asked.
So here it is.

Q: What does the oppressor know about racism?

A: Half the story.

Q: And the oppressed?

A: The other half.