I learned a lot from the most recent presidential debate, but my largest takeaway by far was how to identify the least racist person in the room. Because, you know, being “least racist” is preferable to — I don’t know — being a raging racistor a little bit racist or just structurally racist as opposed to set-Black-Wallstreet-in-Tulsa-on-fire-and-kill-everyone-Black type of racist. Then there’s old Jim Crow racist or maybe don’t give Black folks affordable mortgage loans racist. Or the plain old “Black-kids-aren’t-smart” type of racist who then decides to miseducate the Black children in the classroom.
There’s so many types and layers and examples of racism it’s truly very hard for this Black woman to determine which kind is actually the least of it. How does one rank the horrors of racism? Maybe it’s better to be the kind of racist who only spits at Black people as opposed to being the kind of racist who hires Black women with three degrees into a job where they are more qualified than their White, male supervisor.
Whew. There’s so much racism it’s hard to even squeeze the descriptions into short sentences.
Least racist.
The fact that someone fixes their mouth to state their acceptance of a wee little bit of racism means that the same person is part and parcel of America’s greatest and original sin. Being least racist is not an accolade; it’s an abomination. How can any part of racism and what it gives birth to be acceptable to a person who actually believes in justice?
However, despite the emotional labor involved in watching that debate, I’ve come up with a checklist that you can use to figure out if you are the least racist person in the room. Score yourself by counting up your yeses and I’ll tell you what your score means at the bottom of the scroll.
- Do you think “catch and release” is an awesome, humane, and well thought way to describe a program that involves the oversight of Black and Brown immigrants to the U.S.?
- Have you ever avoided using the words “Black people” because saying the words makes you super uncomfy and instead you use words like “they” or “them” or “super predators”?
- Have you ever been asked about environmental racism and your response is that the people drinking leaded water and dealing with various forms of cancer are “rich” or “making a lot of money”?
- Do you think Abraham Lincoln was the savior of Black people everywhere, for all time?
- Do you believe that the 401(k)s of Black people in America are “through the roof”?
- Do you think that Black people in America have the same amount of money in a 401(k) as White people do? Wait. Skip this question if you’ve never contemplated the impact of slavery and Jim Crow on generational wealth and retirement savings.
- Have you ever used the word “thug” to describe non-White people?
- Have you ever told your one Black coworker that he is “one of the good ones”?
- Have you ever told your Black neighbor that they aren’t like the others?
- Have you ever described yourself as the least racist person in the room?
Sorry, you’re not the least racist person in the room.
I Get a Lot of Racist Emails and Here’s My Response
When you write on anti-Black racism and pro-Whiteness, you get a lot of hate mail. I’ve gotten over 30 emailed responses to several of the articles that I have written — most of those responses have oozed with hatred and a clear, seething disgust for Blacks. But these emails pale in comparison to the ongoing killings of Black people. Although these correspondences mark my closest glimpse into the underbelly of casual anti-Black racism, the rampant disregard of Black lives is not a new phenomenon. The histrionic violence against Blacks has been as prominent a fixture in the tapestry of American culture as apple pie and baseball. Yet, through the frustration, disappointment, and, at times, sheer disgust I’ve felt in response to some of the emails I’ve received, I have tried to remain gracious and forgiving and to continue to fight for equity — with the hope for a greater sense of demonstrated humanity for all.
The emails first started when I wrote an article for Voxabout the construct of Whiteness and the protests against the Covid-19-induced stay-at-home orders in April. After the article published, the floodgates opened, and in came the sexist, overtly racist, and anti-Black emails. Sadly, I consider myself fortunate to have only been on the receiving end of hate-laden, grammatically incorrect messages. Other Black people get it much worse.
The historical legacy of these hate mails is worth exploring. Between 1918 and 2019, multiple anti-lynching bills failed to pass Congress, and as late as 2018, Kentucky Sen. Rand Paul admitted to intentionally delaying the passing of an anti-lynching bill due to fears that it might allow enhanced penalties for altercations that result in only “minor bruising.” Yet the lives of tens of thousands of Blacks had to be lost just to get to this point. Here are just a few: In 1868, in Opelousas, Louisiana, a group of White men attacked and almost beat to death 18-year-old Black schoolteacher Emerson Bentley for reporting voter suppression. They subsequently executed 27 of the 29 Blacks who attempted to defend him. Two weeks of terror followed in which over 250 people were killed, the majority of whom were Black. Soon following, the Colfax massacre in April 1873, also in Louisiana, was described as the “bloodiest single instance of racial carnage in the Reconstruction era,” resulting in the death of 60 to 150 Blacks.
Although the “Karen” phenomenon (White women injecting themselves into situations that have little to do with them) is often discussed in jest, the concept has historic roots and has had deadly consequences. The violent and gruesome torture and murder of 14-year-old Emmett Till is typically referenced when discussions arise about the implications of White women who weaponize law enforcement against Blacks. However, Till wasn’t the first such case. “Karens behaving badly” — very badly — can be traced back to before the turn of the 20th century when numerous massacres of Blacks occurred in response to false allegations that Black men had raped or assaulted unassuming innocent White women.
One such case occurred in Springfield, Illinois, over 100 years ago when Mabel Hallam, a married White woman, lied and accused George Richardson, a Black man, of rape. Despite Richardson denying the accusation, he was quickly jailed without evidence and a subsequent riot broke out — with angry White residents burning Black-owned stores, saloons, and homes after they learned that Richardson and another Black man who was in custody were no longer in Springfield. The same angry crowd went on to lynch William Donnegan, an 84-year-old wealthy Black shoemaker who was married to a younger White woman.
But the deliberate massacre of Blacks over White women lying about being sexually assaulted by Black men or over rumors of such didn’t stop there. The July 1919 race riotsin Washington, D.C., and the Tulsa race massacre of 1921were both caused by fallacious actuations or rumors of Black men raping or sexually assaulting White women. While also a site of profound carnage and bloodshed for hundreds of Black bodies, the East St. Louis race war, on the other hand, was caused by rumors of an armed Black man attempting to rob a White man that led to Blacks being shot, killed, and beaten by angry White East St. Louis residents.
More recently, Sean Christopher Urbanski, who is White and is also a former student at the University of Maryland, was convicted of murder after stabbing a Black college student to death. Urbanski killed U.S. Army Lt. Richard Collins III, 23, who was slated to graduate from Bowie State University just three days after the attack. Despite Urbanski being a member of a Facebook group called “Alt-Reich,” which was described by police to “show extreme bias against women, Latinos, members of the Jewish faith, and especially African Americans,” the judge dropped hate crime charges against Urbanski. Along the same vein, the 2010 killing of Pace University football star Danroy “DJ” Henry Jr. is back in the news now that celebrities such as Jay-Z and Rihanna called for the case to be reopened and for Aaron Hess, the New York police officer responsible for his death, to be investigated.
Some police play a role in the hate as well. Over 1,000 people were killed by police between 2013 and 2019, and about a third of them were Black and 17% were unarmed — which is a larger percentage of any other unarmed racial group killed by police during that time. Even Black children aren’t safe. In 2014, 12-year-old Tamir Rice was killed by a White police officer, Timothy Loehmann, while playing at the park. Aiyana Stanley-Jones, a seven-year-old girl, was shot and killed by a Detroit police officer. Last year, an 11-year-old middle school girl sobbed while being body-slammed by a police officer, Zachary Christensen, after being accused of taking an extra carton of milk during lunch at school.
Despite these facts, Black folks remain hopeful; I remain hopeful. Although grief-stricken, frustrated, and at times beaten down — we persevere and continue to love. Renowned professor of the practice of public philosophy at Harvard University and professor emeritus at Princeton University, Cornel West, said it best: “What is it about these Black people? So thoroughly subjugated but want freedom for everybody. That’s a grand gift to the world, right in the bowels at the center of the American empire that is enslaved. Jim Crow. Jane Crow. Lynch them. Still dishing out these love warriors… You can put us down, but you’re not going to put us down in such a way that we’re going to hate you… We have love that the world can’t take away… White supremacy may make being Black a crime, but we refuse to get in the gutter.”
Although it’s not always easy, I try not to get in the gutter. The first time I received a hateful email, I was devastated. The words seemed to reverberate from my laptop — each word cut like a knife and I could feel the heat of the person’s rage and hatred. I quickly deleted it and have continued to do so with every subsequent email. Every nasty Instagram comment and racist tweet has been met with a swift deletion and the perpetrator has been quickly blocked. I don’t respond or try to convince them otherwise because I don’t think that my response would be successful in doing so. In fact, I think responding to such comments would only be more painful for me.
Although I have grown thicker skin, every now and then it hurts and then terrifies me that so much unabashed volatile hate exists in this world toward me and people who look like me — people who I love. Sometimes, the therapist in me kicks in and I tell myself that they are hurting; other times, I allow my raw emotions to lead and tell myself they are truly sick along with a few expletives. Either way, as much as I am somewhat fearful of what tomorrow might bring, I remain hopeful that one day — most likely not in my lifetime — acceptance and tolerance will take the place of hate and rage, and racial inequities and disparities will be successfully replaced by authentic justice, fairness, and anti-racism. Until then, in order to keep my sanity intact and my spirit at peace, I will continue to meet hateful messages with silence, delete anti-Black comments, and block racist social media users and other trolls.
