Me and White Supremacy - Book Summary

Embarking on a journey of understanding: How white supremacy shapes our world and what you can do about it.

If you're like many, you might assert that white supremacy isn't part of your belief system. And you'd be sincere in that assertion. Nevertheless, the breath of society we inhale every day is laden with the fumes of a white supremacist structure. It's a reality that transcends personal belief and implicates us all in a vastly complex and historical cycle of discrimination—even those who actively reject racist ideologies.

Through this exploration, you will come to recognize the subtle and overt privileges that white people inherit, often without awareness, as part and parcel of the societal norms. It will also shine a light on the myriad of ways engagement with Black people, Indigenous peoples, and persons of color can become fraught with problematic behaviors stemming from this historical context. But it's not just about seeing the problem; it's about actively participating in a solution.

In this discourse, you will ponder:

- The importance of standing up to racism, even if you believe you're aligned with justice and equality.

- The issue with professing to be "colorblind" in racial matters and why it's as misguided as merely adding token diverse individuals to a group.

- The proactive steps to be taken if you wish to be an ally in the battle against racism's pervasive grip.

Unpacking the unseen advantages: The reality of white privilege in everyday life.

At the heart of Layla Saad's message is the belief that white supremacy isn't just the domain of extremists. It's a pervasive norm, embedded in the bedrock of societies where white culture predominates, and touching the lives of all white individuals and those who 'pass' as white. Not through a shared ideology of extremism, but through an unspoken legacy of benefits and conveniences.

Imagine a world woven with threads of unearned benefit that some carry effortlessly while others face barriers. This is the essence of white privilege—the advantages that come merely by the virtue of white skin or the approximation of it, advantages that are unavailable to Black people, indigenous people, and people of color. It’s an inheritance that is as inadvertent as it is unfair, and it blossoms in myriad day-to-day experiences.

Reflecting back to Peggy McIntosh's seminal work reveals the depth of white privilege. She described it as a collection of uncounted concessions handed over as if they were birthrights to those within the white community. With her list of 50 instances, McIntosh unraveled the often invisible, everyday reality of white dominance.

Consider these privileges that might seem trivial to those who've never been without: learning your race's history as the default curriculum, finding culturally compatible products on any shelf, or expecting fair treatment from legal and medical institutions without the specter of race-related bias. Raising children without having to arm them against the inevitable sting of racial prejudice is another illustration of what white families often take for granted.

This paradigm of white supremacy is not only systemic but deeply internalized. A landmark experiment by Kenneth and Mamie Clark revealed a disturbing preference for white dolls among African American children, and an updated study by CNN in 2010 showed that this internalized belief in white superiority hadn't faded with the passing decades.

Therefore, it becomes essential not just to acknowledge the realities of these privileges but to confront the unconscious biases that might place oneself in a narrative of racial hierarchy. To engage with this conversation is uncomfortable—indeed, indignation is a likely first reaction. Yet, it’s a discomfort that must be embraced and examined if there is any hope of advancing beyond the status quo.

Awake to the call: Why everyone must actively engage in dismantling racism.

How often have we heard the refrains, "But I have friends of color," or "Not every white person is racist?" These defensive exclamations arise when individuals are faced with the uncomfortable truths about racism and white supremacy. It's entirely possible you've uttered similar statements, believing wholeheartedly in your innocence in the matter of systemic racism.

This defense mechanism is what Layla Saad dubs "white exceptionalism." It isn't an assumption that all white people are extraordinary, but rather the notion that somehow, you as an individual are exempt from the web of systemic racism because of your personal relationships or progressive views. But possessing an intellectual grasp of racial concepts isn't the same as understanding the lived experiences of racial oppression, which no amount of political correctness can substitute.

When confronted with their privilege, many well-meaning white individuals retreat into a posture of "white fragility," a term brought into the spotlight by Robin DiAngelo. It describes the disproportionate defensiveness and sense of insult that some white people exhibit when presented with matters of race. To engage with racial discourse without the cushion of lived experience leads to a fragility, a lack of resilience, which can manifest as an inadvertent redirection of the conversation to the discomfort of the white individual—effectively detracting from the experiences of those actually harmed by racism.

It's not just about getting angry or denying the existence of "reverse racism." It's also about the subtle moments. Consider a moment when a person of color relays an encounter with discrimination. Meeting these narratives with skepticism or invalidation showcases white fragility, signaling an inability to step aside from privilege and validate another's experience.

Beyond fragility, Saad warns of "white silence" and "white apathy"—the tendencies to remain mute in racially charged situations or to engage with the subject of racism when it seems convenient or inconsequential. This silence and apathy speak volumes, contributing to the perpetuation of an oppressive status quo.

Therefore, the work of fighting racism isn't a spectator sport; it requires a conscious, strenuous effort from everyone, especially those who hold systemic advantages. To navigate past defensiveness and into a place of progressive action, one must recognize these reflexes and choose to stand against the tides of white silence and apathy, taking up the mantle to dismantle the structures that uphold white supremacy.

Breaking down harmful narratives: Understanding the impact of stereotypes on BIPOC.

The case of Serena Williams at the 2018 US Open offers a startling glimpse into how seemingly neutral expectations can mask deep-rooted racial bias. While her outburst calling an umpire a "thief" may have seemed mild, particularly when compared to the outbursts of her white peers, it attracted a heavy penalty. This leads us into the realm of tone policing, where the vocal expressions of Black people, Indigenous people, and people of color are excessively scrutinized, often through the lens of racial stereotypes.

Whether it’s perceived anger or unexpected gentleness, BIPOC find themselves at the mercy of white preferences that dictate how they should communicate. The disregard—or worse, penalization—of genuine emotional reactions, especially when discussing their own experiences of racism, is a gross insensitivity. It strips away the humanity of someone who is voicing personal pain, reducing their expression to a stereotype of supposed aggression or emotionalism.

Racial stereotypes are ingrained assumptions that feed into the machinery of white supremacy, and they come in many forms. Some might be ludicrous when articulated—concepts that all people of a certain race are inherently poor, uneducated, or criminal. Yet despite being nonsensical, these stereotypes persist, subtly weaving their influence into expectations and roles, stretching from everyday interactions to the portrayal of BIPOC characters on screen.

Stereotyping is not the only way in which white dominant culture asserts its influence. The notion of cultural appropriation comes into play when elements of a minority culture are adopted by members of the majority culture, often stripping them of context and history. This isn't an act of homage or unity; it illustrates the imbalance of power, with the dominant culture claiming ownership over the cultural expressions of marginalized communities. Whether it's adopting musical styles like rap or co-opting traditional BIPOC fashions, these acts emphasize dominance rather than bridge divides.

Fundamentally, both stereotyping and cultural appropriation further entrench the disenfranchisement of marginalized communities, maintaining their exclusion from the seat of power and influence. They serve as sobering reminders of the persistent reach of white supremacy and the critical need to scrutinize one's own unwitting complicity in its perpetuation.

Anti-Blackness: Dissecting the multifaceted stereotypes and racism faced by the Black community.

Racism manifests in varied ways directed toward different ethnic groups. For people of African descent, they grapple with a unique brand of racism—the specter of anti-Blackness, which touches the lives of Black women, men, children, and extends to those who identify as transgender or nonbinary.

Consider the constraints faced by even successful Black women like Viola Davis, who has openly discussed the confines of typecasting in Hollywood—relegated to roles of the "strong Black woman" or side characters whose sole purpose is to uplift their white counterparts. These stereotypes bleed into broader societal perceptions and can carry dire ramifications. They play a part in healthcare disparities, evidenced by the strikingly higher maternal mortality rates among Black women, perhaps a tragic reflection of the erroneous yet deep-rooted belief in their innate resilience and inferiority.

Black men are plagued by myths that mark them as violent, unintelligent, or hypersexual—a prejudiced narrative that can follow them into all corners of their lives, reducing them to limiting identities. The absurd notion that Black affluence must be attributed to sports, entertainment, or illicit activities speak to the rigidity of these stereotypes.

Let us not overlook Black children, who often find themselves subjected to "adultification"—the perception that they are older than they are and hence expected to shoulder responsibilities or face treatment inappropriate for their age. The tragic death of Tamir Rice, only twelve, epitomizes the heartbreaking implications of perceiving Black children through this distorted lens. Girls face similar devaluation, often being denied the nurturing and leadership reinforcement afforded to their peers.

It's worth pausing to consider the tenets of white feminism, an iteration of the movement that predominantly centers on the concerns of white women, inadvertently sidelining the compounded discrimination faced by BIPOC. Intersectionality is the key to acknowledging and addressing these overlapping spheres of oppression, recognizing that one cannot detach the experience of gender from the reality of race.

Supporting intersectional feminism means embracing the fullness of individuals' identities and the kaleidoscope of adversities they confront. It's about comprehending how race and gender intersect, and acting on the understanding that these issues are not separable or secondary, but interwoven threads in the fabric of identity and experience.

The perils of superficial engagement: How some anti-racist efforts backfire.

In the journey of anti-racism, good intentions can occasionally lead to harmful outcomes. The concept of color blindness, for instance, is often touted as an egalitarian stance—claiming to see past racial differences as a way of transcending prejudice. However appealing in theory, color blindness can inadvertently uphold the very system of white supremacy it seeks to sidestep by negating the lived realities and unique challenges faced by BIPOC.

Another misstep in the quest for racial equality is tokenism. At its core, tokenism is the superficial nod to diversity. For some organizations, it takes the shape of spotlighting the lone person of color to project an image of inclusivity, without any meaningful commitment to systemic change. This thin veneer of inclusivity is equally prevalent in the film industry and in personal declarations of anti-racism based on one's diverse friendship circle. Yet, having a Black friend or colleague isn't the same as actively combating the structures and beliefs that underpin white supremacy.

Then there's the white savior complex, a troubling narrative that centers white actions and solutions to the challenges faced by people in non-western societies. This manifests in various forms, including voluntourism, where the purported intent to 'save' or improve the lives of people in developing countries often circumvents the deeper socioeconomic issues. In media like "The Last Samurai" or "The Help," stories unfold around white protagonists positioned as the redemptive force for people of color. In an incisive critique, Teju Cole dissects the "white-savior industrial complex" in an article for The Atlantic, illustrating the underlying belief that white efforts are inherently noble or effective.

Whether through color blindness, tokenism, or saviorism, these behaviors serve the same detrimental effect—white centering. This framework negligently places white experiences at the heart of the narrative, minimizing the voices and experiences of BIPOC.

But this is not where the story has to end. With mindful reflection and a willingness to shift perspective, breaking away from the confinement of a white-centered worldview is achievable. Up next, discover the steps toward a more genuine and productive anti-racist practice.

Embracing authentic allyship: A journey of commitment and continuous learning.

It's time to shift focus from the pitfalls to the positive action one can take: allyship. This is an active, ongoing partnership with Black people, indigenous peoples, and people of color that transcends mere moments of support—it’s an enduring commitment to understanding and leveraging your privilege in solidarity with those less privileged.

Allyship isn't a label you hand to yourself; it's a practice shaped by the reflections and validations of BIPOC communities. It demands a long-term devotion to learning to do better, staying open to the idea that you might be wrong, and being amenable to growth.

Part of this learning process involves engaging with the uncomfortable experiences of being called out or called in. When you're confronted publicly or privately about a misunderstanding or offense, it can stir unease. Rather than succumbing to white fragility, the call is to actively listen, setting aside the self-centered instinct in favor of taking in constructive critique. Think about the weight of systemic racism that BIPOC carry against the brief discomfort of being corrected.

Allyship is also about recognizing where you stand within the overarching structure of white supremacy and knowing the bounds of your privileged perspective. It's steering clear of optical allyship — the shallow display of anti-racism that is more about projecting an image than effecting real change. Such gestures often manifest in performative social media activism aimed at enhancing personal standing rather than addressing racial injustices.

True allyship isn't concerned with personal feelings of hurt or embarrassment—it’s far bigger than any one individual. It's about internalizing the fight against racism, contributing positively and persistently, dismantling the oppressive structures from within, and standing in unwavering support of BIPOC—regardless of the personal cost.

As you continue on the path of anti-racism, it becomes crucial not just to act but to act correctly. Coming up, explore specific, actionable steps you can take to practice genuine allyship and lend your strength to the powerful movement for racial equity and justice.

Your lifelong mission: Actively practice anti-racism and contribute to meaningful change.

The journey of anti-racism isn't simply a matter of acquiring knowledge—it demands that you put what you've learned into deliberate, continuous action. Remember, while your privileges may be inescapable, you have the power to engage in what Layla Saad describes as "losing privilege," which means intentionally relinquishing the undue advantages afforded to you by a white supremacist society.

There are actionable steps you can take on this path:

Begin with self-education. Dive into the wealth of resources on anti-racism and do the legwork independently. Don’t place the burden of education on BIPOC—it’s your responsibility to fill the gaps in your understanding. Then, use that knowledge to inform and challenge those around you. Don't succumb to white silence; raise the topic of anti-racism with family, friends, and superiors, and hold people in positions of power accountable for their actions and policies.

Beyond awareness-raising, tangibly support BIPOC endeavors. Forgo the white savior narrative and instead, champion BIPOC businesses, contribute to relevant causes, and stand in solidarity at rallies and protests.

Another critical aspect is to step aside when necessary. Give space and opportunities to BIPOC, recognizing when your voice should yield to others. Accepting criticism and persisting in your efforts, even when it becomes taxing or thankless, is integral to this commitment.

To ensure you follow through with your intentions, create a pledge listing concrete steps you aim to take, such as engaging in difficult dialogues, volunteering, or making financial contributions to activist organizations.

No single individual can topple the vast edifice of white supremacy. It's a collective endeavor, not a battle to be won by any one “savior.” However, your consistent, dedicated actions are vital pieces in constructing a society built on justice and equality. As such, you're not just capable of contributing to a better future; you're ethically compelled to do so.

A call to ongoing action: Challenging the roots of white supremacy for a just society.

The world we navigate is intricately constructed upon the structures of white supremacy, and whether consciously acknowledged or not, white and white-passing individuals reap the benefits of white privilege. Lack of awareness is not innocence, and engagement in anti-racism must extend beyond benign intentions to avoid reinforcing harmful paradigms like "color blindness," tokenism, and white saviorism that inadvertently perpetuate racial stereotypes and uphold white supremacy.

It is critical for white individuals to actively cultivate allyship, committing to an enduring process of self-awareness, education, and vocal support for the rights and dignity of Black people, indigenous peoples, and people of color. By doing so, one must eschew the perils of performative activism in favor of authentic, informed, and continuous action that contributes to dismantling the deep-seated inequities within society. This is a lifetime's work; a relentless pursuit to realize a world rooted in equity and genuine allyship.