The impetus for me to read this book was a book group I belong to on Goodreads which made a special focus for the month for readings on “Black Lives Matter.” “How to Be an Antiracist” as a title might be inviting for many but was off-putting to me. Sounded too didactic and directive rather than personal and experiential, but that was wrong. Yes, there is a lot of effort to achieve well-founded definitions and principles about the many layers and dimensions of racism, but the narrative is well-leavened with vignettes from Kendi’s personal life. Each excursion taps into his anguish over experiences that led him to various forms of racism on his own part and courage to transform his thinking and attitudes in stages. That honesty about straying down false pathways enhance the power of the book and inspired fruitful dwelling on the painful parts of my own development with respect to race issues. Listening to his voice in the audiobook version as I did also increases the power of his narrative for me.
Kendi grew up in a middle class family with an accountant father and mother working in healthcare technology, parents who were inspired by the black liberation theology. His experience with an integrated grade school made him painfully aware that his blackness was linked to lower expectations from his predominantly white teachers. Despite nurturing of a sense of worthiness from his parents, they and his school led him to forever after feel he was a representative of his race and subject to prejudices beyond his control:
At seven years old, I began to feel the encroaching fog of racism, overtaking my dark body. It felt big, bigger than me, bigger than my parents or anything in the world, and threatening. …What a powerful construction race is—powerful enough to consume us. And it comes for us early.
He is so laser-like in his compelling logic:
What is racism? Racism is a marriage of racist policies and racist ideas that produces and normalizes racial inequities.”
Sounds a bit circular, but his thinking conveys a clarifying convergence. He favors the term “anti-racist” for the proper mission of enlightened people:
The opposite of racist isn't 'not racist.' It is 'anti-racist.' What's the difference? One endorses either the idea of a racial hierarchy as a racist, or racial equality as an anti-racist. One either believes problems are rooted in groups of people, as a racist, or locates the roots of problems in power and policies, as an anti-racist. One either allows racial inequities to persevere, as a racist, or confronts racial inequities, as an anti-racist. There is no in-between safe space of 'not racist.
…The good news is that racist and antiracist are not fixed identities. We can be a racist one minute and an antiracist the next. What we say about race, what we do about race, in each moment, determines what -- not who -- we are.
As examples of his own drift into racism, he inculcated culturally racist attitudes about the dangerousness of people in poor, low-class neighborhoods from his fearmongering parents. In a MLK Day speech at his high school in Virginia, where his family moved, he faulted blacks as a people for not completing the achievement of an equal society instead of blaming the policies that keep them back. In his teens he went through a phase colorist racism, expressed divergently in using lightening contact lenses and in a commitment to date only dark women. Later, as a student at an historically black college in Florida, the election of Bush over Gore due to voter suppression in 2000, Kendi found himself in the camp of a haters of all white people (reinforced by the impact of comparable voter suppression in Ohio on Bush’s defeat of Kerry in 2004). He also admits to overcoming elements of sexism and homophobia from inspiring black lesbian teachers and fellow students in his black studies graduate program at Temple University in Philadelphia. When he became a black studies professor, his students helped him work through his own tendencies toward ethnic racism with respect to seeing the social and economic successes of black immigrants such as the West Indians as a basis for judging African Americans as comparatively lazy with poor family values. All these progressions are variants of his experience of the dual and dueling consciousnesses that DuBois identified in his “Souls of Black Folk” in 1903, reaching for a sense of pride in being black while yearning to be or attain the privileges of whites.
This is a perfect book to shape up the mess of thoughts most Americans must feel about racism as a pattern of personal behavior, a social norm of communities, and a cultural tradition of history. He makes the case that activism to change the behavior of individuals is less important than changing policies that further racial inequity and inequality of opportunity or freedom. He dispels the notion that racist ideas are the major cause of racist policies, eloquently arguing that the more significant causality is that racist policies make the groundwork for spawning and sustaining racist ideas. Instead of hate as a prime mover, the institution of racist policies derives from a long history of self-interest, starting with the economic benefits of black slavery from the 15th century:
The history of racist ideas is the history of powerful policymakers erecting racist policies out of self-interest, then producing racist ideas to defend and rationalize the inequitable effects of their policies, while everyday people consume those racist ideas, which in turn sparks ignorance and hate.
I got the most reshaping of my thinking from his analysis of the history of the assimilationist frameworks. How no matter how you link it to humane motivations of integration policies like school busing, the thrust ends up to an attempted obliteration of cultural differences and a continuation of the old colonialist perspective of raising inferior peoples up to the noble white European standards. He is a bit short on practical solutions beyond somehow valuing cultural differences and programs to increase economic opportunities for neglected low-income neighborhoods. Even though conceiving of resident of the “ghetto” as victims of a cycle of despair and blacks as a whole psychologically damaged from a pervasive historical trauma of slavery and oppression of segregation, he warns of the dangers of generalizing this to a view that blacks are a debilitated or traumatized people.
Generalizing of all forms from the attitudes and behaviors of individuals to stereotypes of entire peoples and races is a type of thinking that is a core target for his conception of anti-racism, as well as for anti- versions of racist intersections with cultural, ethnic, gender, and sexual orientation differences. Thus we come to the tricky issue of categorizing people by race in the first place. An approach invented by the European colonizers, reinforced by construction of a spiritual hierarchy by religion and a biological hierarchy epitomized by Linnaeus’ conception of 5 cardinal biological races--white, black, brown, yellow, and red. Darwinism and Social Darwinism had a long impact in reification of this sweeping scheme, but then the Human Genome Project came along and revealed how much we are all one race, the human race. For example it showed that 99.9% of genes are common among the races, and other work showed there to be more genetic variation with African native peoples than between blacks and Europeans. For me as a biologist for much of my life the conclusion can only be that we all have the same genes critical to essential human traits and that race is more of a construct related to genes for non-essential features such as for skin color and hair. In other words, race is a mirage. Yet we should still not seek to ignore race as a first step:
But for all of that life-shaping power, race is a mirage, which doesn’t lessen its force. We are what we see ourselves as, whether what we see exists or not. We are what people see us as, whether what they see exists or not. What people see in themselves and others has meaning and manifests itself in ideas and actions and policies, even if what they are seeing is an illusion. Race is a mirage but one that we do well to see, while never forgetting it is a mirage, never forgetting that it’s the powerful light of racist power that makes the mirage.
These issues affect how we think about our responsibility to enact policies to enhance more equity among peoples. In my role in public health and health care delivery projects over the last 20 years, it is critically important to continue to gather self-perceived racial and ethnic identifications to help measure linkage to economic, health, and health accessibility disparities. Such official recognition of the reality of racial distinctions is what keeps us in touch at this time with racial inequalities in COVID19 disease health and income impacts, rates of victimization from police violence, participation in census counts, and access to voting . Kendi’s logical progression on this subject is compelling:
Race is a mirage but one that humanity has organized itself around in very real ways. Imagining away the existence of races in a racist world is as conserving and harmful as imagining away classes in a capitalistic world—it allows the ruling races and classes to keep on ruling. Assimilationists believe in the post-racial myth that talking about race constitutes racism, or that if we stop identifying by race, then racism will miraculously go away. They fail to realize that if we stop using racial categories, then we will not be able to identify racial inequity. If we cannot identify racial inequity, then we will not be able to identify racist policies. If we cannot identify racist policies, then we cannot challenge racist policies. If we cannot challenge racist policies, then racist power’s final solution will be achieved: a world of inequity none of us can see, let alone resist.
Putting all this together into a personal perspective, Kendi gets pretty eloquent on the healthy current state of his identity tapestry:
I still identify as Black. Not because I believe Blackness, or race, is a meaningful scientific category but because our societies, our policies, our ideas, our histories, and our cultures have rendered race and made it matter. I am among those who have been degraded by racist ideas, suffered under racist policies, and who have nevertheless endured and built movements and cultures to resist or at least persist through this madness. I see myself culturally and historically and politically in Blackness, in being an African American, an African, a member of the forced and unforced African diaspora. I see myself historically and politically as a person of color, as a member of the global south, as a close ally of Latinx, East Asian, Middle Eastern, and Native peoples and all the world’s degraded peoples, from the Roma and Jews of Europe to the aboriginals of Australia to the White people battered for their religion, class, gender, transgender identity, ethnicity, sexuality, body size, age, and disability. The gift of seeing myself as Black instead of being color-blind is that it allows me to clearly see myself historically and politically as being an antiracist, as a member of the interracial body striving to accept and equate and empower racial difference of all kinds.
Though Kendi doesn’t provide any detailed plan for fixing what ails our society, he should be pr
oud of his efforts to provide a conceptual foundation. I can see how he goes beyond just standing on the shoulders of others whose works I have been reading this month (Fanon’s “The Wretched of the Earth”, Baldwin’s “The Fire Next Time”, and John Lewis’ “Crossing that Bridge”). In his current role as founding director of “The Antiracist Research and Policy Center” at American University he is in a good position to lead and inform efforts to improve policies. Toward the end he elaborates an extended metaphor of racism being like metastatic cancer, a vision inspired by an unfortunate but successful struggle he and his wife both went through. I didn’t feel the metaphor useful for understanding racism, but I root for the power of his experience as a motivational force for his important work.