White People Can’t See Themselves, But I Can
By: Stanley Fritz
Tags: Race, White Privilege, Trump, Raceinamerica, BlackLivesMatter

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote a very honest and maybe upsetting (to some) piece about my continued struggle to see humanity in white people. This is at the backdrop of a racist President trying to shift the U.S. from a shaky democracy, into an ethno-fascist state. And as that plays out, police are continuing in their campaign to shoot unarmed Black and Brown people with no accountability. These are dark times, and the moments to have hope, and be hopeful of where this country can go in its racial journey are few and far in between.

The responses from the piece have been pretty interesting, to say the least. In the weeks since It was published, the comment section has become occupied by a coalition of opinionated whites. I have read comments that call me racist, attempt to explain why I am wrong, express disappointment in my assessment, or just tell me to leave the country. Most of the comments are so off base, I wondered if they even read past the first paragraph. Alas, their response was understood.

What person, or in this case, a group of people would respond glowingly to someone questioning their capacity to be “human?” Especially from a person who did not look like them, have their experiences, or know their story? I understand the outrage, but I don’t care, because they’re wrong.

Whiteness has many powers, chiefly, it is an entity that continues to evolve, it has to if it hopes to continue its stronghold on the world. It exists to pillage, dominate and expand, this must happen no matter the obstacle, whether that be a person, project, or object, whiteness must reign supreme, and because whiteness moves in such a way, those of us who are impacted by it the most are constantly forced to learn how to adapt/live with or through it. But one of its deepest flaws, or strengths, depending on who you’re talking to is that it has no self-awareness. Anyone willing or able to participate or look the other way on countless horrors needs the ability to separate themselves from that savageness.

I have spent the better part of my life consciously and unconsciously navigating through life while considering and making adjustments to survive in a world dominated by white people, ideas, and leadership. I would argue that all Black and non-Black people of color have done the same, whether they know it or not. The fact of the matter is, we live in a world where the comfort and feelings of white people or lack thereof could be the difference between living another day, having a place to rest your head, or having the ground beneath you completely shifted.

White people’s fear of Black bodies has influenced the way that I move in predominantly white spaces. It has forced myself and others to attempt to create structures where white people and the concepts of whiteness have no rule. But even within that, those safe havens are only as secure as the level of interest white people have in it. There is no corner in America where whiteness does not have the power to disrupt.

If you build a neighborhood they will bomb it, if they think it has value, they will gentrify it. If you mind your business, they may be threatened by your lack of interest and feel a need to confront you, if you have no interest in them at all, this can be seen as an affront. I have seen far too many times the ways in which whiteness goes from being a theory to an actual problem in my life, millions of other Black and brown people have as well. So we have been forced to study it, become experts, know everything there is to understand, whether what is understood makes any sense at all, or even keeps me safe because if we don’t, we will die.

It is with that forced knowledge and understanding of whiteness that I have continued to lose hope. I know the good, the bad, the indifferent, and the problematic. I know what whiteness looks like when it feels threatened, when it is intrigued, and when it’s indifferent. I have learned how to entertain whiteness, appease it, and keep it at bay when necessary. But I have also learned how to function when there is no way to escape the grips of white supremacy. That’s the superpower that all Black people develop. So when I talk about the failures of whiteness, and the sinking feeling that there may be no hope for them. I’m not being facetious. I’m speaking from 34 years of experience, and the collective knowledge and experience of all the Black and Brown people in my life.

We know you and have been forced to deal with whiteness for as long as whiteness as an idea has existed. We have had front row seats to all of the traits, societal norms, and habits that white people get to ignore because it doesn’t impact them. So when I speak, it’s not from a place of assumption, it’s from a deep well of knowledge, pain, and experience. I see you.