Differently the Same

Our similarities are fundamental and our differences are central.

The study of genetics has shown that our racial differences are entirely superficial. There is actually more genetic variation within racial groups than between them. The vast majority of physical differences among us are simply in the shape, color, texture, etc… of our outer coverings.

In some very real ways we are “all the same under the skin.” And yet, many people I know shiver when they hear that statement uttered. “All the same under the skin” is one of the ways that people who “don’t see skin color” describe their attitudes about race. This “colorblindness” to race confuses the ways we are the same with the ways we are different. While the genetic-based differences between us are superficial, the cultural preferences and lived experiences of people who are of differing racial and ethnic groups can be vastly different.

This is the fundamental reason why I choose to focus so much on the differences between races in my strivings to contribute to building racial equity rather than how we are “all the same.” Many Non-Whites have been brave and generous enough to risk frankness about race in the face of White dominance. If I listen to them I can hear how their lives are different from mine because of their identities. As a White man, I strive to understand the impact of my own race on my experience and the impact of the collective and individual behaviors of Whites on others if I am to have any chance to be a positive force for racial equity in my world.

Another reason to focus on our differences is something more specific to US culture: we often have a sense that we have no culture, that we just see things the way they are and do things in the way that makes most sense, especially us Whites. This is a bit different than what many people in other groups may feel about their own cultures. People who come from cultures that are not as dominant as White US culture often have a sense of what culture is and how all of us use culture to make meaning. They may prefer their own or denigrate others’ cultures, but the concept of culture itself exists in their psyches. In White US culture, the sense that there is no culture means that we can’t even have the conversation, or that if we do, we are arguing from a stance of superiority that is greater than most. We are the enlightened ones, standing above the quaint concept of culture, showing respect for the concept because other people seem to need it while we don’t ourselves. It dampens our ability to invite cultural differences into our experiences and makes us less skilled at inviting culturally different people into our lives.

The way we are most fundamentally the same is that we are human beings with 100% valid cultural and identity experiences that deserve equal consideration.

The Invisible Everything

Houston, we have a problem (and we don’t see it).

I love the movie Apollo 13. Every time I see the scene in which (Spoiler Alert!) the parachutes open above the command module to the understated “nasa-speak” of Tom Hanks saying, “Hello Houston, this is Odyssey: good to see you again,” I grow a little teary for this triumph over adversity and the profound group effort that made it happen.

I respect the accomplishments of the space program, accomplishments that may lead to a greater good for humankind, but also for their own sake, even as I understand (and in part agree with) those who think that the space program is wasteful or superfluous while we have so many troubles here on earth.

The space program is in many ways an apex of US accomplishment. It is also a specifically White accomplishment in two distinct ways. First, it is the outcome of the White value system and mindset: it is structurally White. Second, it is the product of the labors of White males to the near exclusion of all others: it is restrictively White.

Here are a few of the ways in which the space program is structurally White: it is highly scientific and technological in nature. Technology is not the sole providence of White US culture, but it is an important aspect of it. White culture has tended to work to wrest accomplishment from the grasp of the natural world with technology for leverage; to subdue nature rather than submit to it. One can also see reductionism, another aspect of White culture, at mission control where each specialist sits in front of his screen focusing on his area of expertise and adding to the whole. At the same time we see White individuality in the instances where each expert in his field can offer input that affects the decision of the group; or when the character Ken Mattingly pushes and pushes to find the right sequence to restart the command module; or, even more pointedly, in how the entire nation becomes swept up in its concern for these three astronauts. Even the form of the movie itself has a linear narrative thread that is very native to the White literary tradition.

It is restrictively White because it is the product of the White male exclusivity of the time in which the movie takes place. Apollo 13 Director Ron Howard has, I believe, captured this accurately. My own rather unscientific study was to watch the movie looking for non-White, non-males, looking at their roles in the story, and then to view footage from the actual mission. I found the race and gender make-ups of each similar. The movie has three Black people who have lines. All are males. To be fair, other identity groups are given short shrift as well. White women are represented as cast members in the movie, but there is not one woman with any kind of official authority represented. Beyond that, homosexuality is not even referred to in the movie and apart form Jim Lovell’s mother, who has had a stroke, all people we see are able-bodied. This is not an indictment against Ron Howard’s film direction: I believe that he captured the reality of the mindset of mainstream USA at the time.

At one point in the film Jim Lovell is asked by a reporter, “Why go back to the moon? We’ve been there already?” He responds, “Imagine if Christopher Columbus had come back from the New World and no one returned in his footsteps.” What could be more ironic? From a White perspective, it captures the sense of exploration, expansion, growth, and vision for the future that is central to the White legacy of its European roots. But imagine what would not have happened to the indigenous people that were in the Americas before Columbus if no one had followed in his footsteps. I imagine Jim Lovell’s question has a very different meaning to them.

The Whiteness of Apollo 13 highlights the dilemma of many Whites who see racial inequity and want to work for a fairer society: how can we feel good about being White when our greatest accomplishments are tainted by exclusion and exploitation? It often seems like we have the choice of two opposites. Either we can feel “White Pride,” a concept that has been co-opted by groups who feel that White dominance is a good thing, or we feel “White Shame,” and reject Whiteness as being only a means of oppression. Either way, we cannot be White and working towards a healthy, fair racial identity. Many people in the White anti-racist world reject White culture out of hand because of its ingrained inequity and exploitation. Frankly, they continue to do very good work in my opinion. I respect it because its focus is on fairness for others rather than on Whites protecting themselves. It is other-centered rather than self-centered.

But while the rejection of all things White is morally preferable to White supremacy, it may not be the best of all worlds. I don’t know an answer to this dilemma that works for everyone but I can speak for myself. I try my best to keep a “both/and” mindset. I try to respect my own perspective, a decidedly White perspective, while not insisting that it hold primacy. I try to be honest about what I like and dislike about other perspectives while still making room for them in the discourse, especially when they are the perspectives of people from non-dominant groups. As a White male I owe them my ear. I treat Whiteness like a beloved brother who is a drug addict; I love the good in him but will intervene to stop his destructive impulses from harming others. I try to love Whiteness while not allowing it to do the bad things it does.

Just like all people, I remain a cultural being. I don’t insist, however, that my culture dominate. In fact I insist that it does not. What should I call this perspective? Perhaps, White Dignity.

Working for Racial Fairness as a White Man

Our responsibility is to clean our own house rather than tell people of color how to keep their own.

White people approach racial injustice from different angles. Some of us have an easy time accepting that U.S. society treats different races inequitably while others take a very long time and struggle to come to that realization (if in fact we ever do).

But if and when we decide we are going to do something about it (because part of being a member of the dominant group means you can decide whether or not you want to deal with racial injustice) we very often take a single tack. We try to work with not-Whites to help them in their struggle for equality. It’s easy to understand why. I come to the realization that I need to stand up against racial injustice, find the people who are being targeted by it, and stand with them. It’s an admirable undertaking. But it can also be a problem and here’s why: most of us are socialized in a society that imposes unfair racial stereotypes on us. Our early environments often teach us inaccurate things about non-Whites that become embedded in our view of the world. When we begin to work towards racial justice we often, without realizing it, take an approach of assimilation toward non-Whites. We unwittingly work toward helping them be “more like Whites” rather than to build a society that is inclusive at a level where non-Whites are full partners as well as fully themselves. Non-White activists say over and over that this is the case.

What, then, are we to do? Here are a few suggestions:

Get to know ourselves. In the book “Overcoming Our Racism” author Dr. Derald Wing Sue discusses the need to accept that we have been socialized to engage in racial stereotyping and to learn to manage that tendency. I use the word “manage” here purposefully because I firmly believe that most of us will never be completely free of stereotyping, just like we are never completely free of any other socialization from early childhood. If we convince ourselves that we don’t have some stereotypes in our thinking we only drive them further from our awareness and make it more likely that we’ll act on them without knowing it. We can know that none of us wanted to be socialized like that, learn to be aware of when we’re thinking in stereotypes, and then NOT act on them. We can also get to know the impact that being White has on our lives (see the next suggestion).

Get to know Whiteness. Whiteness didn’t always exist. It has a genesis, a history, an evolution, and a purpose. Once we understand these things we are better able to discern how Whites and Whiteness act to affect the distribution of wealth and power in the U.S. Here are a few sources that I’ve found that have helped me.

Books:

• Howard Zinn’s “People History of the United States”
• James W. Loewen’s “Lies My Teacher Told Me”
• Winthrop D. Jordan’s “White Man’s Burden” and the much more detailed “White Over Black”

Films:

• “Blue Eyed,” a film by Jane Elliot
• “The Color of Fear,” a film by David Lee

There are others, of course.

Get to know others. We can find like-minded Whites and share our processes among ourselves. This isn’t as easy as it sounds. When we start stepping outside of the normal racial understanding in our society, we can come into conflict with some people. It’s also a very emotionally complex thing for Whites to do this work and when we come together to do it we can come into conflict with our fellow Whites in process. We can also take stock of our relationships and ask ourselves how many people we are friends with who are not White. If we honestly ask ourselves how many non-White people are close to us and find ourselves lacking, what can we do? Should we run out and ask a Black person to be our friend? Should we start getting close to the Latin people in our office? I don’t know how good an idea that is. One thing I’ve done and offer as a suggestion, is to try to attend art and cultural events that I can attend that are “owned” by non-Whites. Try a Latina poetry reading, or an American Indian art exhibition. And just go to listen and witness. We don’t have to be experts and we don’t have to prove we’re “the good guys.” We can, however, respect the fact that what we are experiencing is likely generated from an experience that is different from ours, that is a nuanced and necessary expression of the identities of at least some of the people involved, and is just as 100% worthy of our respect as a more "traditional" or "mainstream" event, even as we are honest about whether or not it suits our own tastes.

As a White man, my goal is to work with other Whites to co-create a new racial reality among us. When we can see how we benefit from a system that is skewed in our favor, learn to respect other perspectives as no less valid than our own, and learn to redefine our identities in ways that do not deprecate others’, we're working for racial fairness.