Narratives On Race Relations: How To Find Middle Ground Among Contradiction
With the explosion of social media platforms, streaming news services, and comment sections full of opinions of varying degrees of informedness, we are bombarded daily with snarky comments, drive-by insults that make no attempt at a good-faith conversation, and writers who tell all of us to stop doing this, start doing this, don't say this, don't say that.
There are many folks who find joy in watching others jump through hoops. But these hoops are constantly contradicting each other. If we cannot rectify these mutually exclusive narratives, the result will not be an improvement, but the status quo, or worse.
Many times, I find plenty of contradictions coming from those who seek to give their advice on what folks should be doing to improve the world, especially as it comes to race relations in America. I have outlined a few very common narratives that I find in the ether, daily. My aim is to expose them and provide a healthy, mindful, middle ground—in an attempt to strengthen our dialogue with each other.
If you are white and move into a black neighborhood then you are participating in gentrification — you are the problem. Move out of the city, that’s white flight—and you are the problem.
Middleground: Be mindful. That's it. I don't think it is anybody's place to tell anybody what neighborhood to move into. Whatever “space” you are in, be aware and be cordial. Personally, I have lived in about half a dozen or so historically black communities. When I look back at my life, I wasn't always welcomed by everyone, being the white kid on the block, but 90% of the time, I was treated quite well. Those experiences allowed me to form relationships and hear perspectives from folks I otherwise would not have.
People need to be able to move around freely. If you live in a white neighborhood and a black family moves in, it's their neighborhood too. Cities, neighborhoods, and communities are constantly evolving. You either evolve with them or it's up to you to move on.
If you don’t celebrate black culture, you are part of the problem... but if you do celebrate black culture, you could be appropriating black culture, and you are part of the problem.
Middleground: The concept of loving someone for their contributions and not their presence is not new. America loves its Mexican cuisine but can be slow to appreciate Mexican people. There was a popular quote in the art world, “it's better to have a Van Gough in your living room rather than Vincent sitting on your living room couch.”
The line between appropriation and appreciation is a blurry one. Especially with black culture, because their contributions are so monumental, so pronounced, that we rarely are cognizant of their black origins. What we can do, however, is be mindful of those contributions.
We hear lots about Dr. King, Rosa Parks, hip-hop music, and black fashion. Those people and those contributions, no doubt, are some of the greatest and strongest, and they should continue to be celebrated. But did you know that the potato chip was invented by a black man (George Crum) and so was the blood bank, George Richard Drew? Of course, we need to celebrate the Titans, but there are other, lesser-known contributions made every day by black folks that we use, well, every day.
You don’t need to be a scholar of black culture, but the key is mindfulness. For those who think contributions like these should be kept in the culture they were born into—it's a dicey game to play. They are called contributions for a reason. You wouldn't want a white person saying that black folks shouldn't ride in the airplane because it was invented by a white person. But then again, the propeller was invented by a black man, James S. Adams, so nothing is easy.
If you find yourself cursing some aspect of another’s culture, look around the room at the tools you use, and then maybe ask yourself—what have you invented lately?
White people need to listen more, ask questions, and start to learn!
But from who? Well, It’s not the job of the oppressed to teach their oppressors (yet, there are so many people who act as though that is precisely their job).
Middleground: We all need a heavy dose of humility from time to time. There is plenty you don't know about the world and it will always be that way. Reading books from others' perspectives is what allows a person to grow.
Within the past years, many black folks bemoan the litany of questions from white folks either checking in on them or asking them questions specifically about black people or black culture. This may be well-intentioned, depending on the framing, and it's not a bad thing to ask questions but put yourself in the other person's shoes: nobody wants to be treated as a spokesperson for their group.
Try to find answers in long form—read a book, or listen to podcasts. If you feel lost, that's okay, we all are, and nobody has the answers to everything. Just try not to put the weight of your confusion into one person's inbox, what color or creed they are.
White people need to decenter themselves, it’s not all about you!
Middleground: What we often forget to consider is that, in America, there are roughly 4.6X more white people than there are black people. I find both white and black people tend to forget this statistic whenever it is convenient. There is not much one person can do about a basic arithmetic problem.
However, white folks can empathize that leadership in politics, talking heads in media, and faces in our advertising (however diverse they have become now) have long been dominated by white faces, no matter what their politics are. Nobody should feel personally guilty about this, but to be mindful of the racial makeup, and all its corresponding effects, would help us understand how we got here, and where we go from here. The good news is, that there are more biracial marriages than ever, and America is diversifying its relationships even quicker than expected.
Yes, all white people are racist! But somehow we need more of them as….allies?
Middleground: The “all white people are racist crowd” who have either gorged out on Robin D’Angelo or are steeped in academic-fueled rhetoric are not the norm. Most black people do not think this way (it goes without saying most white people certainly do not, but I said it anyway). “All white people are racist” is not a serious position, but a rhetorical position to “poke the bear”. For the record, I am not the bear, but I am in the woods, watching you poke it, and I don't think the big bear is going to like it, whatever the bear's feelings about you are.
Allyship is tricky because folks like me won’t be allies strictly to skin color. I will be an ally to ideas that are good ones, to logic that is sound, and voices that come from a place of love and productivity. The term “ally”, which we know more from the language of wartime, is also the language of “with us or against us” type thinking.
Add a dollop of shame to that divisive pie we are baking, and you get a whole lot of “against us” where there could have been a whole lot of “with us”. If somebody is truly your equal, and truly your friend, expect them to tell you when they disagree and where they think you are veering off the path to liberation and equality.
Wrong Speak is a free-expression platform that allows varying viewpoints. All views expressed in this article are the author's own.
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Although your "middleground" concepts have merit, I doubt their adoption will have much impact. Whether a person takes the high ground, middle ground or low ground, issues will remain if human interactions are viewed through a racial lens. As the old saying goes, "if you're a hammer, everything looks like a nail". Similarly, if you view people through a racial lens, everyone will look like a racist.
My perspective- I grew up in an all white neighborhood in New York City (of all places). Adjoining neighborhoods were similarly monolithic. Riding the subways, I saw people who were not white, but I never knew or interacted with anyone who wasn't white.
It wasn't until I went to high school in New Jersey that I got to know a black person- the only black person in the school. Perhaps it was naivete, or perhaps it was the sign I remembered from the New York subways- "Ecidujerp is Prejudice spelled backwards. Either way it doesn't make any sense" - but aside from skin color, I never thought the black kid who sat next to me was any different than the other students.
Over the years, I have found that irrespective of ethnicity or race, people are simply people. Some are good, some are evil and some carry chips the size of earth-moving equipment on their shoulders. That's the lens through which all people should be viewed. The fact that another person has darker or lighter skin than you do means nothing more than the other person has a unique background that likely differs significantly from your own. That difference does not call for being solicitous, condescending or defensive; it is an opportunity to learn and an opportunity to build a unique relationship.