By Paul Sutton
I have spent the last several weeks troubled by all the shouting about racism from all corners of the political spectrum. I have watched in dismay as people have made it about President Obama or the Tea Partiers or conservative talk show hosts. It’s not. It’s about each one of us.
Since the election I have thought about all the ways racism has affected or not affected me. Again and again I was stopped by the simple yet stubbornly ubiquitous question: What does it mean to be white?
In the past I have ducked this question and have avoided talking about it for fear that I would be labeled a racist. But now I have come to understand that racism isn’t only about personal hate. Racism is about acquiescence to a system of power.
Because I am white the chances are better that I will live in the suburbs, that I will be offered a low interest loan for my house, car, and credit card, that my kids will go to college, that I will not go to jail for a crime I didn’t commit, that I will be a CEO of a fortune 500 company, that I will be listened to in public, that I will gain advantages in life because of my race.
Looking back I can point to small artifacts or actions in my life that give evidence to those advantages. Being white, people assume these opportunities for me. I am left to wonder if the same opportunities would be assumed for me, or my children, if I were a person of color.
We want to believe that we live in a color-blind meritocratic society. University legacies in addition to a cursory glance at the demographics of the U.S. Congress, to name just a few, contradict those beliefs. As white Americans we have all been complicit in encouraging and condoning the current rancor and ugliness over race through our silence, for it is a problem of our cultural making that many of us fail to question.
When I watch television or read the newspaper, I can’t help but wonder when the fingers will be pointed not at others, but at ourselves. In that self-reflection, there is hope. We cannot change the past but we can work to atone for its injustices. Even with a black president and a “post-racial” country, there is much work we must do.
To me, being white means accepting the privileges afforded me because of my race. It means a lifetime of uneasiness and guilt. Most importantly, being white means I have power. I have power to stand up for those who are not.
Paul Sutton lives in Bellevue.
