17. So You Want to Talk About Race

“So You Want to Talk About Race” by Ijeoma Oluo is a strong foundation to understanding the way that racism is manifested in the present-day, in the United States. I think that it makes a good introduction for white people who are aware that racism exists, but have not done extensive reading or development on their understanding of racism.

The book is formatted with each chapter as a question about racism – the different doors into conversations about racism.

In “Is it really about race?” Oluo writes,

“White Supremacy is this nation’s oldest pyramid scheme. Even those who have lost everything to the scheme are still hanging in there, waiting for their turn to cash out.”

It’s critical that everyone goes into conversations with this basic understanding – White Supremacy is real, and white people are upholding White Supremacy unless they are actively working against it.

“What keeps a poor child in Appalachia poor is not what keeps a poor child in Chicago poor – even if from a distance, the outcomes look the same.”

Some white people are marginalized by class, by ableism, by transphobia and homophobia. However, that does not erase racism – and when white people who also have marginalized identities have to be conscious of that when discussing racism.

“Yes, it is about class – and about gender and sexuality and ability. And it’s also, almost always, about race.”

“1. It is about race if a person of color thinks it is about race.
2. It is about race if it disproportionately or differently affects people of color.
3. It is about race if it fits into a broader pattern of events that disproportionately or differently affects people of color.

Now, looking at this short list, it’s easy to think – hey, that is far too broad, almost anything can fall under those categories! And it’s true, almost anything can fall under those categories. Why? Because race impacts almost every aspect of our lives.”

I think that this quote below

“You are going to screw this up.
You are going to screw this up royally. More than once.”

Here were the tips that Oluo provides for conversation success, or at least mitigating conversational disaster. I appreciate that it’s actionable – it’s simple, and focused on your words and actions.

1. State your intentions.
2. Remember what your top priority in the conversation is, and don’t let your emotions override that.
3. Do your research.
4. Don’t make your anti-racism argument oppressive against other groups.
5. When you start to feel defensive, stop and ask yourself why.
6. Do not tone police.
7. If you are white, watch how many times you say “I” and “me.”
8. Ask yourself: Am I trying to be right, or am I trying to do better?
9. Do not force people of color into discussions of race.

And when disaster inevitably occurs in conversations about race, here are the steps that Oluo outlines for handling the disaster effectively.

1. Stop trying to jump back in when a conversation is beyond saving.
2. Apologize.
3. Don’t write your synopsis of this conversation as “the time you got yelled at.”
4. Don’t insist that people give you credit for your intentions.
5. Don’t beat yourself up.
6. Remember that it is worth the risk and commit to trying again.

“Have these conversations, not just with people of other races – and I know that’s why the majority of you are reading this book. You should be having these conversations with people of your own race as well. White people – talk about race with other white people. Stop pretending that you are exempt from the day-to-day realities of race. Take some of the burden off people of color. Bring it into your life so that you can dismantle racism in the white spaces of your life that people of color can’t even reach.”

Oluo discusses police brutality, intersectionality, the school to prison pipeline, microagressions and the model minority myth, offering a basic introduction to how these issues are about race and how they relate to discussions about race in the present day.

I was struck by the way she introduced the school to prison pipeline, discussing the behavior of one student, Sagan.

“He had pushed one teacher, struck two others. He had refused to listen to instructions and refused to stay in his classroom. He was mimicking a gun with his hand and pointing it at students. Sagan had assaulted teachers and threatened students and would be suspended from school. A school board member was arguing that charges should be filed against him.”

From the paragraph above, how old do you think Sagan is? Stop and think – how old is Sagan?

“I have been hit by five-year-olds. Many parents and caregivers have. It is not okay, and there are consequences – usually a time-out followed with a long discussion. But it is not assault. Why? Because I’m a thirty-six-year-old adult who is not going to irreparably harmed by the blows of someone barely out of toddlerdom, and because I understand that young children are…well…young children.”

Sagan is a five year old. A five year old who was misbehaving, a five year old who needed to receive a consequence for his actions, but not charges filed against him.

“The vast majority of teachers are white females, and many are unfamiliar with and not trained to work with the different ways in which black and brown children – especially black and brown boys – can interact with each other and with adults.”

This really made me pause – how have I, as a teacher, acted in this way? How have I, as a white woman who is teaching Black children, taught in a way that was not effective for my students, or failed to understand and effectively build relationships with my students?