Racism reeducation book #9 – Isabel Wilkerson’s Caste: The Origins of Our Discontents

Caste: The Origins of our Discontents is one in a stack of books I’m reading as part of my overdue reeducation on racism. I’ve reviewed more than 500 business books for The Hamilton Spectator since 1999 and worked in public relations for 27 years.

Here are four questions to wrestle with from Isabel Wilkerson’s brilliant and brutal Caste: The Origins of our Discontents.

Question one – If you’re white, how much would you have to be paid to live the next 50 years as a Black person?

Political scientist Andrew Hacker put that question to his white undergraduate students at Queen’s College back in the 1990s.

Most students said they’d need $50 million to “buy protection from the discriminations and dangers white people know they would face once they were perceived to be Black.”

Question two – What would you have done with Hitler if he hadn’t killed himself in a bunker (that’s been paved over and turned into a nondescript and unmarked parking lot)?

In 1944, the public school district in Columbus, Ohio ran an essay contest where they put that question to students.

A 16-year-old Black girl won the contest with a single sentence – “Put him in a black skin and let him live the rest of his life in America.”

The contest ran the same year a Black teenage boy, who sent an innocuous Christmas card to a white girl at work, was bound and thrown into a river while his father was held down on shore to watch his son drown.

Question three – Are you willing to be as courageous as August Landmesser?

There’s a famous photo taken in 1936 at a shipyard in Hamburg, Germany. Hundreds of workers are heiling in unison. August is the only one who refuses to salute.

“Looking back from our vantage point, he is the only person in the entire scene who is on the right side of history,” says Isabel. “Everyone around him is tragically, fatefully, categorically wrong.

“We would like to believe that we would have taken the more difficult path of standing up against injustice in defense of the outcaste. But unless people are willing to transcend their fears, endure discomfort and derision, suffer the scorn of love ones and neighbours and coworkers and friends, fall into disfavor of perhaps everyone they know, face exclusion and even banishment, it would be numerically impossible, humanly impossible, for everyone to be that man. What would it take to be him in any era? What would it take to be him now?”

So if you’re a white person, do you have the courage to dismantle a caste system that’s given you a lifetime of unearned economic, social and political privileges simply because of the colour of your skin?  Are you prepared to direct your anger up, rather than down, the ladder? Are you willing to stop correcting, directing, disciplining and policing the people who are the bottom rung?

“The fact is that the bottom caste, though it bears much of the burden of the hierarchy, did not create the caste system, and the bottom caste alone cannot fix it,” says Isabel. “The challenge has long been that many in the dominant caste, who are in a better position to fix caste inequality, have often been least likely to want to.”

And question four: While debate rages about statues, monuments and memorials for slave owners and segregationists, it’s worth looking at what Germany has done.  “Rather than honor supremacists with statues on pedestals, Germany, after decades of silence and soul-searching, chose to erect memorials to the victims of its aggressions and to the courageous people who resisted the men who inflicted atrocities on human beings,” says Isabel.

Next to the front doors of a subway station in the heart of Berlin is a sign that’s nearly a storey-high and impossible for residents and tourists to miss. The sign reads Places of Horror That We Should Never Forget and then lists a dozen concentration camps where millions of Jews were slaughtered.

So where would you put a storey-high sign in your city that lists all of Canada’s former residential schools?

You’ll be forced to confront many more uncomfortable and unforgettable moral questions in Isabel’s follow-up to the Pulitzer Prize-winning The Warmth of Other Suns.

“Evil is not one person but can be be easily activated in more people than we would like to believe when the right conditions congeal,” says Isabel.

“It is easy to say ‘if we could just root out the despots before they take power or intercept their rise. If we could just wait until the bigots die away…It is much harder to look into the darkness in the hearts of ordinary people with unquiet minds, needing someone to feel better than, whose cheers and votes allow despots anywhere in the world to rise to power in the first place. It is harder to focus on the danger of common will, the weaknesses of the human immune system, the ease with which the toxins can infect succeeding generations. Because it means the enemy, the threat is not one man, it is us, all of us, lurking in humanity itself.”

Want your organization to thrive? Bureaucracy needs to die (review of Humanocracy)

Days can drag during the pandemic but the future’s arriving way ahead of schedule.

COVID-19 is accelerating changes in how we work, learn, shop and play. Trends that would’ve played out over years are happening within months.

While working from home is a hot topic, Gary Hamel and Michele Zanini make a convincing argument for also rethinking how we work.  

The authors of Humanocracy say we need to seriously shrink our organizations’ Bureaucratic Mass Index.  

With a lower BMI, every job has the potential to be a good job.

Much of the work now being done by legions of well-paid administrators and managers could be transferred to frontline employees working in small, multifunctional and self-managing teams.

Turning low-skilled, dead-end jobs into get-ahead, automation-proof jobs would benefit individuals, organizations and our society as a whole.

And instead of wasting time, money and their careers on busywork, bureaucrats could be moved into jobs where they’d provide far greater value to their organization.

“Bureaucratic organizations are inertial, incremental and dispiriting,” say Hamel and Zanini. “In a bureaucracy, the power to initiate change is vested in a few senior leaders. When those at the top fall prey to denial, arrogance and nostalgia, as they often do, the organization falters.

“Worst of all, bureaucracies are soul crushing. Deprived of any real influence, employees disconnect emotionally from work. Initiative, creativity and daring – requisites for success in the creative economy – often get left at home.”

Bureaucratic organizations have timid goals, shun risk-taking, lumber along at a plodding speed, repress creativity, cramp autonomy, punish noncomformity and in return get tepid commitment from disengaged employees.

By comparison, a humanocracy maximizes everyone’s contribution. Organizations become as resilient, creative, innovative, adaptive, entrepreneurial and energetic as the people who work in them.   

“Rather than deskilling work, we need to upskill employees,” say Hamel and Zanini.

They profile humanocracy pioneers like U.S. steelmaker Nucor and Haier, the world’s largest appliance maker. These big companies show that it’s possible to have the benefits of bureaucracy – control, consistently and coordination – without the crippling costs of inflexibility, mediocrity and apathy.

“The experience of the post-bureaucratic rebels testifies to a single luminous truth: an organization has little to fear from the future, or its competitors, when it’s brimming with self-managing ‘micropreneurs’.”

If you work in a large organization, you already know the transition to humanocracy won’t be easy. Bureaucracies are fiercely defended. “People with power are typically reluctant to give it up, and often have the means to defend their prerogative. This is a serious impediment, since there’s no way to build a human-centric organization without flattening the pyramid.”

Hamel and Zanini’s book is a manifesto and manual for overcoming that impediment.

“Bureaucracy must die,” say Hamel and Zanini. “We can no longer afford its pernicious side effects. As humankind’s most deeply entrenched social technology, it will be hard to uproot, but that’s OK. You were put on this earth to do something significant, heroic even, and what could be more heroic than creating, at long last, organizations that are fully human?”

Jay Robb serves as communications manager with McMaster University’s Faculty of Science, lives in Hamilton and has reviewed business books for the Hamilton Spectator since 1999.

Racism reeducation book #8 – Dolly Chugh’s The Person You Mean to Be

The Person You Mean to Be: How Good People Fight Bias is one in a stack of books I’m reading as part of my overdue reeducation on racism. I’ve reviewed more than 500 business books for The Hamilton Spectator since 1999 and worked in public relations for 27 years.

I made the mistake of going into a North Hamilton neighbourhood with good intentions.

I persuaded my employer to get involved in events, projects and partnerships. When I talked about the neighbourhood, I called it one of the city’s poorest, with above average unemployment, below average high school graduation rates and third-world health outcomes. I ignored the neighbourhood’s strengths and assets and instead zeroed in on shortcomings and gaps. If that wasn’t insulting enough, I also pitched a path out of poverty that must’ve seemed impossible and impractical to a whole lot of people.

Dolly Chung's The Person You Mean to Be

I pretty much did everything that social psychologist Dolly Chugh warns against in her book The Person You Mean to Be: How Good People Fight Bias.

“There are four modes of behavior that prevent believers from humanizing others and prevent them from becoming a builder,” says Dolly, who’s an expert in unconscious biases at the NYU Stern School of Business.

“In these four modes – savior, sympathy, tolerance and typecasting – good intentions are counterproductive. By trying to be a hero, by feeling bad, by treating differences as something to be tolerated or ignored or by typecasting someone to be someone they may not be, we operate in modes that do more harm than good.”

I also overlooked the lifetime of headwinds that were battering generations of kids, teens and grown-ups in the neighbourhood. As a white, straight, able-bodied man, I’ve sailed through life with the benefit of a constant tailwind. When you’ve faced few, if any headwinds, it’s easy to believe that everyone can find the will and the way to pull themselves up by their bootstraps and make something of their lives.

“Headwinds are the challenges – some big, some small, small visible, some invisible – that make life harder for some people, but not fall all people. When you have a tailwind pushing you, it is a force that propels you forward. It is consequential but easily unnoticed or forgotten. The invisibility of headwinds and tailwinds leads us to vilify people facing headwinds. It is no coincidence that the groups facing great headwinds in our society are also the most negatively stereotyped. Our failure to see systemic headwinds and tailwinds in the world around us leads u to blame the people facing headwinds.”

Dolly offers practical steps we can take to move from being believers in diversity, equity and inclusion to becoming builders of diverse, equitable and inclusive workplaces and communities.

She recommends we educate and occasionally confront others by following the 20/60/20 rule.

The easy 20 are believers in diversity, equity and inclusion and ready to become builders.

The stuck 20 are non-believers. They lack the internal and external motivation to control prejudice. “They may be loud and opinionated or quiet or resilient. Either way, they will suck the life and sustainability out of you if you try to educate or confront them.”

Your goal with the stuck 20 isn’t to educate, persuade and change them. Your goal is to neutralize their ability to hurt others. Tell the stuck 20 that you and many others see things differently. Don’t try to convince them that they’re wrong.

The middle 60 is passive, silent and the most susceptible to influence from the stuck 20 or easy 20. They’ll notice what you say to a racist or if you choose to say nothing. Persuade the undecided majority by telling stories. “The middle 60 tends to be less invested. Stories generate quick bursts of emotion and humanity. Facts are obviously important and are useful for rebutting falsehoods, so know and remember as many as you can. When in doubt, however, stories are more likely to persuade the middle 60.

It can also be tricky to know if speaking up means you’re speaking over someone who’s more than capable of standing up to the stuck 20 and defending themselves. Dolly recommends we not be a bystander whenever someone’s being targeted by racists.

“A big part of allyship is speaking up and not leaving people on their own when they are targeted. One approach is to turn to the target and simply ask for their guidance on whether they would like you to intervene. We can say ‘Would it be okay if I jumped in here?’ or ‘I know you can handle this, but I’m here as backup’ or ‘I’m happy to take this one’ or ‘Say the word if I can help.’ When in doubt, say more, not less.”

There’s no right way to become a builder, says Dolly. It’s hard work being a better human being and it’s always a work in progress.

“If there’s no right way, then each of us can find our own way to be builders and support builders,” says Dolly. “The only wrong way is to settle for only being believers. The work of being a builder is exhausting. If you are not exhausted, at least some of the time, chances are you are still a believer only.”

How to find time to reflect during a pandemic (review of Step Back by Joseph Badaracco)

Anyone else finding it impossible to pause and ponder during the pandemic?

It’s tough to step back and reflect when you’re chronically anxious and exhausted.

If you’ve been laid off or let go, you’re scrambling to find work. If you’re still working, you’re bracing for a second surge and more job cuts.

You’re worried about your bored and restless kids who’ve reached the end of Netflix and your at-risk elderly parents and relatives who’ve either disappeared into their bunkers or believe they’re magically immune to COVID-19.

So given everything that’s going on, how can we find time to wrestle with big questions about work and life?

Joseph Badaracco recommends practicing mosaic reflection

“Busy, successful men and women do reflect, but they practice the art of reflection in the cracks and crevices of their daily lives.”

Badaracco, the John Shad Professor of Business Ethics at Harvard Business School and author Step Back: How to Bring the Art of Reflection into Your Busy Life has four guiding principles for practicing short bursts of daily reflection.

Aim for good enough. “Find an approach to reflection that works pretty well, most of the time. This is an approach that meets your needs, fits your situation and you can follow fairly regularly.”

Downshift occasionally. “Shift your mental machinery into a lower gear.” This is tough to do if you spend all your waking hours relying on highly focused analytical or pragmatic thinking where the goal is output at a breakneck pace.

Ponder your hard issues. Use reflection to tackle tough issues at work and in your life. “Step back and make a conscious effort to look at a problem or a situation from several different perspectives.”

Pause and measure up by “stepping back for a few moments, looking at your options and asking yourself what will best meet the standards others expect of you and your own standards for work and life.” Are you making the difference you’re supposed to make and the difference you really want to make?

Practice these four principles and you can make a daily habit out of reflecting for a few moments or minutes between Zoom meetings, dinner prep and FaceTime with friends. “This approach to reflection fits the busy lives so many people lead today. It works especially well for people who find it difficult because of how their minds work to withdraw and reflect for extended periods of time.

“And the mosaic approach lets us reflect on the flow of life and work and respond to what is real and immediate.”

Reflection helps us make better decisions and grapple with big questions like how to live, what to truly care about and what constitutes a good life.

All of us could some serious self-reflection now more than ever. You may be out of work and weighing your options for a career change. You may be an essential worker who’s burned out and tired of putting your life on the line. You may be a non-essential worker who’s tired of waiting to be forgotten. You may be loving your time at home with family and dreading a return to the office with its soul-crushing commute. Or you may be counting the days until you can escape back to the office. Whatever situation you find yourself in, there’s a big question in need of an answer.

“Reflection is stepping back to grasp what really matters – about what you are experiencing, trying to understand or doing. Without reflection, we drift. Others shape and direct us. With reflection, we can understand and even bend the trajectories of our lives.”

Badaracco offers a practical way of bending our trajectory without heading off for week-long solo retreats deep into the woods or to the top of mountains.

Jay Robb serves as communications manager for McMaster University’s Faculty of Science, lives in Hamilton and has reviewed business books for the Hamilton Spectator since 1999.

Racism reeducation book #7 – Jason Reynolds and Ibram X. Kendi’s Stamped: Racism, Antiracism and You

Stamped: Racism, Antiracism and You is one in a stack of books I’m reading as part of my overdue reeducation on racism. I’ve reviewed more than 500 business books for The Hamilton Spectator since 1999 and worked in public relations for 27 years.

Each of us has a choice to make.

We can choose to be a segregationist.

An assimilationist.

Or an antiracist.

“Segregationists are haters,” says Jason Reynolds. “Like, real haters. People who hate you for not being like them.”

“Assimilationists are people who like you, but only with quotation marks. Meaning, they ‘like’ you because you’re like them.

Antiracists “love you because you’re like you.”

Jason Reynolds and Ibram X. Kendi's Stamped: Racism, Antiracism and You

In his remix of Ibram X. Kendi’s Stamped from the Beginning, Jason in his remix shows how these three identities have been adopted over and over again for hundreds of years.

“The construct of race has always been used to gain and keep power, whether financially or politically. How it has always been used to create dynamics that separate us to keep us quiet. To keep the ball of white and rich privilege rolling. And that it’s not woven into people as much as it’s woven into policy that people adhere to and believe is truth.”

According to Jason, the world’s first racist was Gomes Eanes de Zurara. In 1415, Zurara wrote a book that defended African slave trading. Enslaving people was defended as missionary work. It was a way to save, civilize and Christianize African “savages”.

And so began anti-Black racist ideas that continue to this day, even after scientific evidence proved on June 26, 2000 that the concept of race has no genetic or scientific basis.

“This is how racism works. All it takes is the right kind of media to spark it. To spin it. At least, that’s why history has shown us. Tell a story a certain way. Make a movie that paints you as the hero. Get enough people on your side ot tell you you’re right and you’re right. Even if you’re wrong. And once you’ve been told you’re right long enough, and once your being right has led you to a profitable and privileged life, you’d do anything to not be proven wrong. Even pretend human beings aren’t human beings.”

History tells us we should expect a backlash to Black Lives Matter and the current moment we’re in. “Whenever people rise up against bad things, bad things tend to get worse,” says Jason. “You know the old saying, ‘when the going gets tough, the tough get racist.”

We need to meet that racism head on by getting active. Posting summaries of antiracism books on blogs and social media won’t cut it.

“Scrolling will never be enough,” says Jason.

“Reposting will never be enough.

“Hashtagging will never be enough.

“Because hatred has a way of convincing us that half love is whole. What I mean by that is we – all of us – have to fight against performance and lean into participation. We have to be participants. Active.

“We have to be more than audience members sitting comfortably in the stands of morality, shouting “WRONG!”. That’s too easy. Instead, we must be players on the field, on the court, in our classrooms and communities, trying to do right.

“Because it takes a whole hand – both hands – to grab hold of hatred. Not just a texting thumb and a scrolling index finger.”

Racism reeducation book #6 – Alicia Elliott’s A Mind Spread Out on the Ground

A Mind Spread Out on the Ground is one in a stack of books I’m reading as part of my overdue reeducation on racism. I’ve reviewed more than 500 business books for The Hamilton Spectator since 1999 and worked in public relations for 27 years.

Alicia Elliott says indigenous kids have good reason to fear governmental care more than their parents’ poverty.

The Tuscarora writer from Six Nations of the Grand River speaks from experience.

“In some sense I intuited this, even as a kid. I knew it was bullshit that social workers and cops had so much control over our family, that they could split us up the moment we didn’t cater to their sensibilities. Knowing this then made me hate social workers and cops. Knowing this now makes me hate the systems that empower them – systems that put families in impossible situations, then punish them for not being able to claw their way out.”

book a mindAlicia grew up in grinding poverty. She routinely went to school without lunch. She lived with head lice for a decade. Her family moved between empty rental houses and shelters. Alicia, her sister, three brothers and parents eventually settled into a two-bedroom trailer that didn’t have running water for five years. They ate a lot of low-grade ground beef, cheap pasta and pancakes for dinner.

And yet…‘My siblings and I were great students,” says Alicia. “We had no problems at school; no mysterious bruises discoloured our skin. We were liked by our teachers, made friends easily. We never lacked for love or encouragement.

“Our parents were far from perfect, but their main barriers to being better parents were poverty, intergenerational trauma and mental illness – things neither social workers nor police offices have ever been equipped to address, yet are both allowed, even encouraged to patrol.”

Alicia’s family lived under the constant fear that they’d be separated at any moment. And they weren’t alone. Depending on the province, Indigenous kids in Canada are anywhere from five to 12 times more likely to be taken into government care than non-Indigenous children.

While the main reason cited for breaking up families is neglect, Elliot says that’s just another word for poverty. “Social services conflates not being able to afford adequate housing, food, clothing and health care with choosing not to have adequate housing, food, clothing and health care. Instead of supporting poor families and helping them become financially secure, social services’ approach is to simply take the kids. It’s as though they believe that removing the added expenses of children is doing poor parents a favour; or taking kids from loving parents and throwing them in impersonal, sometimes dangerous foster homes is doing them a favour.”

These forced separations have been playing out for hundreds of years, says Alicia.

“So many of our nations have been forcefully displaced, so many of our children stolen from our arms and placed in residential schools or, more recently, in the arms of overworked social workers and violent foster parents, as if white abuse could ever be better than Indigenous love.

“It is only recently that Canada’s treatment of Indigenous peoples has been referred to as genocide, and even then, it’s usually been ‘cultural genocide’ as if that somehow softens its edges and makes it more permissible. More Canadian.”

The 14 essays in Alicia’s A Mind Spread Out on the Ground sharpen genocide’s edges and make the case for why Canadian success can’t continue to be dependent upon Indigenous destruction.  Alicia strips away our national fairy tales and shows our country’s hidden, darker side.

“True reconciliation with Native peoples requires Canada to stop its paternalistic, discriminatory policies and, most important, stop interfering with our sovereignty over our identities, communities and land,” says Alicia. “These are by no means easy or comfortable actions for Canadians to undertake, but they must be undertaken regardless.”

Racism reeducation book #5 – Crystal Fleming’s How to Be Less Stupid About Race

How to Be Less Stupid About Race is one in a stack of books I’m reading as part of my overdue reeducation on racism. I’ve reviewed more than 500 business books for The Hamilton Spectator since 1999 and worked in public relations for 27 years.

What exactly should we do now?

What can you and I starting doing today to tackle racism at work and in our community?

book stupidIt’s a question Crystal Fleming, author of How to Be Less Stupid About Race, gets asked at every speaking engagement. Crystal is a writer, sociologist and associate professor of sociology and Africana studies at Stony Brook University.

“Being educated about inequality and oppression can feel as if the weight of the world has been placed on your shoulders and now you’ve got to DO! SOMETHING! ABOUT IT!,” says Crystal. “It’s a positive sign to want an action plan that will explain how to put your newfound knowledge into practice and make this world a better place.

“But this is what I’d tell my younger self: no one is going to be able to explain to you, in a soundbite, what you should do to challenge racism. They simply can’t. The answer is going to vary for each individual, depending on your personality and background, interests, talents and inclinations. So, it’s your job to figure out how you can best leverage your knowledge and skills to help humanity.”

Instead of a soundbite, Crystal has 10 recommendations for how we can be less stupid about race and do our part to dismantle systemic racism.

Relinquish magical thinking. “If you want to pursue the cause of social justice, give up the need for quick fixes and gird your loins for a long struggle. To sustain your work for the long haul, you’ll have to build up your reserves of resilience, self-care, community care and courage. You’ll have to nurture your capacity for hope, humour, love and connection, even, and especially, in the midst of oppression.”

Critically assess your racial socialization. “Most of us were not taught to acknowledge the impact of racial ideas, scripts and behavior on our upbringing and values, but that’s the kind of internal work that’s required for addressing racism.”

Start or join an antiracist study group and share what you learn about systemic racism. “Making a long-term commitment to challenging racism also requires a lifetime of learning.”

Empower young people to understand systemic racism. “Help ensure that children and adolescents in your sphere of influence understand that race is not just about ‘skin colour’ or ‘seeing race’. It’s a systemic problem that’s going to require collective mobilization to bring about enduring change – and youth have an important role to play in dismantling white supremacy.”

Recognize and reject false equivalencies. “One of the most dangerous and pervasive forms of racial ignorance is the insistence on drawing a false equivalency between being a member of the racial majority group and a member of a racial minority group.”

Disrupt racist practices – get comfortable calling shit out. “If you’re not making powerful white people uncomfortable, you’re doing antiracism wrong. Leverage your social influence, stand up against racist behavior and be willing to make your racist family members, friends and/or colleagues uncomfortable.”

Get organized – support the work of antiracist organizations, educators and activists. “The most intelligent way to address a systemic problem is to approach is systematically, which involves organizing and mobilizing collective action.”

Amplify the voices of Black women, Indigenous women and women of colour. “Our vulnerability to multiple forms of oppression render Black women more sensitized to and knowledgeable about the complexities of racism, sexism, classism, and so on.”

Shift resources to marginalized people. “Institutions, organizations, politicians and everyday citizens can all make it a regular, ongoing practice to look for ways of disrupting the status quote by investing material, cultural, social and political resources into vulnerable communities.”

Choose an area of impact that leverages your unique talents. “You don’t have to be a ‘single-issue’ antiracist, but I do recommend selecting a few areas to build your knowledge and maximize your impact.”

Crystal says we’re stupid about race because we think of racism as individual prejudice and not as a broader system and structure of power. “Whether you realize it or not, racism is systemic, pervasive and embedded within the core of all our major institutions. The consequences of systemic racism are vast – from the burgeoning racial wealth gap, political disenfranchisement, mass incarceration and racist immigration policies to micro-aggressions, racial profiling, racist media imagery and disparities in health, education, employment and housing.”

Along with reading Crystal’s book and adopting one or more of her recommendations, there’s one other thing you and I can do right now. When we ask if authors and experts can run antiracism workshops and guest talks at work and in our community this fall, pay them for time and expertise.

‘I could write entire novels about the so-called invitations I’ve received to give free talks about racism and slavery at well-funded universities that built their wealth on racism and slavery,” says Crystal. “Gee, as tempting as it would be for me to enrich your life with my unpaid labour while you rollick in your white privilege, I’m going to have to pass.”

How to prevent diversity training from becoming a support group for white people (review of White Fragility)

crying-1299426_1920I owe the facilitators an apology.

I was taking my first mandatory diversity workshop at work. I was more than 20 years into my career.

This was not my finest moment. I sat with my arms crossed, back up and mouth shut.

I was suffering from an acute case of sudden onset white fragility. I thought the facilitators were preaching to the converted. I’d never said anything racist to a co-worker. I didn’t judge people based on the colour of their skin. Of course everyone should feel safe, welcomed and respected at work. So why was I there?

Robin Diangelo’s seen and heard it all during her two decades as a racial and social justice trainer and consultant. At least I didn’t sigh, cry or storm out of the room.

white fragility“After years of working with my fellow whites, I have discovered (as, I am sure, have countless people of colour) a set of unspoken rules for how to give white people feedback on our inevitable and often unconscious racist assumptions and patterns,” says Diangelo, author of White Fragility: Why It’s So Hard for White People to Talk About Racism.

“I have found that the only way to give feedback without triggering white fragility is not to give it at all.”

Should a facilitator break the cardinal rule – “do not give me feedback on my racism under any circumstances” – Diangelo says you must then follow 10 other tongue-in-cheek rules, including:

“There must be trust between us. You must trust that I am in no way racist before you can give me feedback on my racism.”

“Highlighting my racial privilege invalidates the form of oppression that I experience (e.g. classism, sexism, heterosexism, ageism, ableism, transphobia). We will then need to turn our attention to how you oppressed me.”

Diversity and inclusion workshops have the potential to turn into support groups for comforting and coddling aggrieved white people. Talking about racism for two hours in a conference room somehow becomes more traumatizing than enduring a lifetime of racism.

“White fragility functions as a form of bullying,” says Diangelo. “I am going to make it so miserable for you to confront me – no matter how diplomatically you try to do so – that you will simply back off, give up and never raise the issue again.”

So what’s the solution? Start with how we define racism to help diffuse tension in the room. “It is not limited to a single act or person. Racism is deeply embedded in the fabric of our society. Racism differs from individual racial prejudice and racial discrimination in the historical accumulation and ongoing use of institutional power and authority to support the prejudice and to systematically enforce discriminatory behaviors with far-reaching efforts.”

We may not be Tiki torch-waving racists but many of us have benefited from systemic racism and its unlimited lifetime supply of white privilege. Reflecting on that advantage is an overdue conversation well worth having.

We also need to rethink feedback. Take it as a gift rather than an accusation. “Perhaps the most powerful lesson I have learned in terms of interrupting my own white fragility is that this feedback is a positive sign in a relationship,” says Diangelo. “Of course, the feedback seldom feels good – I occasionally feel embarrassed or defensive. But I also understand that there is no way for me to avoid enacting problematic patterns, so if a person of colour trusts me enough to take the risk and tell me, then I am doing well.”

Before offering diversity and inclusion training this fall, have everyone read White Fragility as their pre-workshop homework. And then, as a group, have the courage to call out colleagues who’d rather be comforted than have uncomfortable conversations about systemic racism and how to dismantle it at work.

This review first ran in the August 6 edition of The Hamilton Spectator.

Jay Robb serves as communications manager with McMaster University’s Faculty of Science, lives in Hamilton and has reviewed business books for the Hamilton Spectator since 1999.

Racism reeducation book #4 – Eternity Martis’ They Said This Would be Fun

racismThey Said This Would be Fun is one of eight books I’m reading as part of my overdue reeducation on racism. I’ve reviewed more than 500 business books for The Hamilton Spectator since 1999 and worked in public relations for 27 years.

Three racists walk into a bar.

They’ve used Halloween as an excuse to wear blackface. They’re dressed as cotton pickers.

They cut through the crowd at an off-campus bar to get in the face of second-year university student Eternity Martis.  They smirk and leer in silence.

book fun“Drunken bar patrons pushed past me and into the crowd,” writes Eternity in They Said This Would Be Fun. “So many bodies around me – witnesses – yet no one stopped to help. All I could hear was my own voice screaming at these smiling white kids, with their black faces, to speak. They looked back at me, composed, still smiling, daring me to lose my mind. Then, still smiling, they turned their black, painted faces and slowly disappeared into the crowd.”

Racist acts and comments would be unrelenting during Eternity’s four years studying at Western University and living in London, Ontario (my alma mater and hometown).

Strangers would ask Eternity if she was born and raised in the country (not continent) of Africa or on an island in the Caribbean. When drunk or angry at the world, strangers would yell at Eternity to go back to her own country (that would be Canada). Eternity would be asked if she was related to the only other Black person waiting for, or riding on, the bus. She’d be told that Canadian winters were cold and warned that there’d be snow.

Classmates would touch her hair and sometimes ask permission first. White boys she’d never met would tell her that they’d never talked to, danced with, kissed, dated or slept with a Black woman.

She’d be followed in stores and told the discount racks were at the back of the shop.

On campus, Eternity was desperate to connect with other Black students. Yet the first Black student she ran into refused to look up and kept on walking. “A few weeks later, I saw another Black person on campus. I made eye contact and it happened again; eyes and head down, no acknowledgement. And then again. And again. It was if they didn’t want to be seen at all.”

Instead of strength in numbers, there’s suspicion and unwanted attention when Black people get together says Eternity.

“You’ll count how many Black people you see on campus. And if you are lucky enough to find others, you and your group of friends will be stared at with fear and loathing for daring to even laugh simultaneously.

“We know that our bodies and our behavior are always being policed. We don’t get an automatic welcome to the party – we are constantly having to prove that we deserve an invitation. Even then, we know it can be revoked at the first slip up.”

White students can get together whenever and wherever. They’re not drunk, loud and obnoxious – they’re just having fun and finding themselves. It’s a right of passage. If they screw up, they get their wrists slapped along with a second or third chance to do better.

“When white people behave badly, it’s an individual trait. When people of colour misbehave, it’s a problem with the entire race. White people get the green light to be hedonistic, carefree, flawed. We know we’re not afforded that privilege.”

While her time at Western and living in London was anything but fun, Eternity discovered V-Day, enrolled in a Black Women’s History in Canada elective and found her voice as a writer. She went on to earn a master’s in journalism from Ryerson and is now an award-winning journalist and senior editor at Xtra.

Anyone working in postsecondary education should read Eternity’s memoir. You’ll get a better, and sobering, understanding of what Black and Indigenous students experience day-in and day-out both on-campus and in the community.

At a minimum, we’ll know what to do if we ever see three racists in blackface walk into a crowded bar to terrorize a 19-year-old.

Racism reeducation book #3: Ijeoma Oluo’s So You Want to Talk About Race

racismSo You Want to Talk About Race is one of eight books I’ll be reading and reviewing as part of my overdue reeducation on racism. I’ve reviewed more than 500 business books for The Hamilton Spectator since 1999 and worked in public relations for 27 years.

I did what Ijeoma Oluo says we shouldn’t do.

I reviewed a business book about diversity and inclusion for the Hamilton Spectator back in June.

I emailed a draft of the review to a pair of Black colleagues.

I said I was looking for feedback. But maybe a part of me was also seeking absolution.

As our organizations start to have hard and honest conversations about racism at work and what to do about it, Ijeoma cautions against leaning on our Black colleagues.

book raceIjeoma wrote the New York Times bestseller So You Want to Talk About Race and received the 2018 Feminist Humanist Award from the American Humanist Society.

“I’ve seen the look of trepidation on the faces of people of color when they are told that their organization or workplace will be reading this book together,” says Ijeoma.

“They immediately envision the burden that will likely be placed on them; they know they will be treated as the walking racial Google of the group to explain every term or nuance that escapes their white peers; or as the unpaid therapist to help their white peers process their emotions in realizing that perhaps they aren’t he anti-racist heroes they thought they were, all while ignoring the deep strain and trauma they are inflicting on the few people of color in their midst.”

You can spare your colleagues the strain and trauma by making Ijeoma’s book your pre-conversation homework assignment.

She answers 17 questions, from what is racism, intersectionality and microaggressions to cultural appropriation, the school-to-prison pipeline and what to do if you’ve been called a racist.

Ijeoma defines racism as “a prejudice against someone based on race, when those prejudices are reinforced by systems of power”. It’s the back half of the sentence that we need to wrestle with.

“The impotent hatred of the virulent racist was built and nurtured by a system that has much more insidiously woven a quieter, yet no less violent, version of those same oppressive beliefs into the fabric of our society. The truth is, you don’t even have to ‘be racist’ to be a part of the racist system.”

Ijeoma’s conversation guide will help you come to terms with that system and the role each of us can play in making overdue changes.

It’s good that our organizations are talking about racism and ways for creating workplaces where everyone feels welcome. But Ijeoma says we need to do more than just talk amongst ourselves.

“We cannot understand race and racial oppression if we cannot talk about it,” says Ijeoma. “Talk. Please talk and talk and talk some more.

“But also act. Act now, because people are dying now in this unjust system. Act and talk and learn and fuck up and learn some more and act again and do better. We have to do this all at once. We have to learn and fight at the same time. Because people have been waiting far too long for their chance to live as equals in this society.”

My summary of Layla Saad’s Me and White Supremacy is posted here.

My summary of Robin Diagnelo’s White Fragility is posted here.