White women are one of the most influential demographics in America - we are the largest voting bloc, with purchasing power that exceeds anybody else's, and when we unify to demand change, we are a force with which to be reckoned.
Yet, so many of us sit idly on the sidelines, opting out of raising our hands to do, learn, and engage in ways that could make a difference. Why?
White American women are no monolith. Yet, as Women's March national organizer Jenna Arnold has learned over the past few years criss-crossing the US in conversations with White women about their identity and role in the country, we do possess common characteristics - ones that get in the way of us becoming more engaged as citizens. We're so focused on checking off our to-do lists, or so afraid of getting it wrong, or so busy trying to avoid conflict, that we are actively avoiding the urgent conversations we need to have.
We are confused about how we got here and unsure how to do better.
Raising Our Hands is the reckoning cry for white women. It asks us to step up and join the new front lines of the fight against complacency - in our homes, in our behaviors, and in our own minds.
Consider Raising Our Hands your starting place, your “Intro to Being a White Woman in Today's World” freshman-year class. Here, Jenna peels back the history that's been kept out of textbooks and the cultural norms that are holding us back, so we can finally start really listening to marginalized voices and doing our part to promote progress.
The American White woman is a powerful force - an essential participant - to mobilize alongside the rest of humanity on behalf of the world, and we can no longer make excuses for why we don't have time or don't know enough.
JENNA ARNOLD is listed as one of Oprah’s “100 awakened leaders who are using their voices and talent to elevate humanity” because she doesn’t have much patience for the status quo. She has been called a “disruptor” in every industry in which she has dabbled from elementary school classrooms to halls of the United Nations, MTV, and the White House. For her recent work as one of the organizers of the Women’s March, Jenna was recognized with a Glamour Women of the Year award. The New York Times, Wall Street Journal, Washington Post, Forbes, and Fast Company, to name a few, have recognized Jenna’s work as “shaking up long standing assumptions” and being one of “the biggest ideas in social change” for the work of ORGANIZE, a non-profit she co-founded focused on ending the waitlist for organ transplants in America, for which she was also named one of Inc. magazine’s “35 Under 35” list.
I’m also a white woman. I have invested a lot into personal/professional equity learning the past three or four years. That’s NOT to say I’m an expert, but it is to say I’ve started the journey. The format of the book, the vague quotes/info, the sit down chats with women of roughly the same age, etc. were not what I was hoping for when I read the description. I wanted more.
Here is a book about racism written by a white woman who grew up in the suburbs and now lives a comfortable upper middle class life.
And yes, she acknowledges how problematic that is.
Her point in writing this is, she has been where other white women are: stuck in silence, not wanting to rock the boat in their pursuit of perfection, feeling bad but keeping it at arm’s length. And to do so can be so incredibly easy it’s mind boggling.
*It’s important to this review to note that I identify as a white woman myself.*
Jenna Arnold urges other white women to take accountability for their actions, speak up and become advocates for change. She invites us to raise our hands, right alongside her, and recognize how powerful we can be if we decide to make changes.
In our segregated society, white women can go entire lifetimes without experiencing anything but very white people, suburban, corporate mentalities.
Her argument for women to take action can be described in one encounter with an 84-year-old woman: “As she looks back on her life, she worries that she has not left a ‘real mark on the world.’ She has five children, loads of bubbly grandchildren, and family-filled holidays. She checked every box on the checklist society gave her. Still, instead of feeling pride, she looks back and wonders, ‘Where was I when decisions were being made for the country my children now have to live in?’ Then she admitted with a sigh: ‘I was getting my hair blown out” (p. 13)
She describes, “This habit of instinctive, fear-laced avoidance keeps our crucial voices out of most forums for discussion and inhibits is from stepping outside our safety bubbles to learn, engage, and challenge” (p. 22) I reread that sentence and felt heard, called out and deeply understood all at once.
In conversations with other white people who are attempting to educate themselves by reading books on social justice issues, I often hear, “well the book was very interesting but all it did was point out problems. It offered no solutions.” While Jenna Arnold says that this book is not one of ultimate solutions, she certainly offers a myriad tips for how to respond when people say things that hurt others.
Here are just a few of her ideas for how to tackle the tough issues:
The WAIT method: Why Am I Talking? There is a time for speaking up, but there is also a time for being silent. If someone cares enough to take the time to point out a fault in your language, that is not the time to make excuses for your behavior. It’s time to listen. Consider if this is actually an appropriate time for you to voice your opinion. Arnold offers, “Am I genuinely adding something that hasn’t already by said? Is it the right time for my perspective to be voiced?... Will my contribution be potentially counterproductive or harmful to people in the room?” (p. 42)
How do I call someone “in” to the conversation instead of calling them “out”. Arnold explains the vast difference between the two methods. Here are the basic guides to calling someone “in”. 1.) Ask for permission to have the conversation... 2.) Tell them (again) that they might be uncomfortable with the discussion... 3.) Plop your vulnerability smack in the middle of the table like it’s a fruit basket - by starting with an apology… Apologize in advance for not knowing how to perfectly navigate a complicated conversation. Remind them that you are eager to listen and learn even though you might stumble over your perspectives and language. Ask them, “Is that okay?” .... Lead with questions… “I’m sure I’m missing something about this. Can you take some time to explain your view so I can see what you are seeing?”... “I need your help.” ... “I don’t understand. Can you give me more details?”... “I’m afraid my answer might upset you. What should I do?”... Put your confusion on the table first. “I’m struggling with something.”... Don’t engage in a fact war... Remember, you’re not there to change someone else’s opinion…” (all excerpts from pgs. 214-215)
So what are white women doing that is so problematic? “Sometimes the easiest thing to do is to pretend it’s all okay. But what if it’s not? And, a bigger question: What if our obsession with perfection is a part of the great American pretending - our insistence that, as long as we follow the set of rules embedded in the fabric of our culture about how we are supposed to navigate society and our place in it, the American Dream will be ours? For white women, there are a series of explicit instructions on how to reach that pre-designated life - the white picket fence, surrounding giggling children, with, ideally, not a care in the world. And for us, as for many other people, the only way to perform according to these guidelines is to apply some form of concealer” (pgs. 46-47).
Okay, so what does all of that actually mean? How many times have you been at a get-together and a white man (maybe a friend of yours or your partner’s) has made a degrading comment about minorities, women, or really any “joke” that is offensive? Even if it’s obvious that everyone else in the room has been made uncomfortable by the comment, it is rare that anyone would say anything. You want to continue to be polite to your guest! No one wants to be “that woman” who is willing to say, “actually I don’t think that’s very funny.”
For instance, when someone starts talking about how Abraham Lincoln was the best president because he “freed the slaves”, you don’t want to be the one to drop this on them: “The war ended in 1865. But Lincoln’s goal in ending slavery, as he describes it, and which is now displayed on a bronze plaque at his monument in Washington, DC, was to “save the Union, and it is not to save or destroy slavery. If I could save the union without freeing any slave, I would do it; and if I could save it by freeing all the slaves I would do it; and if I could save it by freeing some and leave others alone, I would also do that.” The fate of the slaves always comes second to the need to save the Union” (*footnote on pg. 84). I mean, can you imagine the clandestine smirks? Maybe a question to ask yourself is, “the next time I am at a party and someone says something hurtful about someone else (or a group of people), even as a joke, am I willing to stand up and say something, even knowing that I will be the topic of conversation for every single couple on their way home from the get together?” “Well she’s certainly a spitfire! No wonder she’s still single!” “Well she’s certainly a spitfire! I feel sorry for her partner!” “Well she’s certainly a spitfire! No wonder she’s.... !”
Next uncomfortable topic: Arnold’s thoughts on how liberals can be far more toxic to causes than any conservative: “While the conservative-leaning women would get right into asking clarifying questions about their biases, the women who considered themselves liberals just looked at me blankly, avoiding voicing any confusion they might genuinely have. They were the first to say “Not me!” and the most determined not to continue this part of the discussion” (p. 116).
Arnold goes on to quote Robin DiAngelo’s “White Fragility” which states, “White progressives cause the most daily damage to people of color” (p. 116). Arnold responds, “Why? Because we are more likely to believe that, because our social media feeds are filled with reposted left-leaning news articles, we don’t still have work to do. We go to extreme lengths to prove to the world that we care about social justice. The energy we put toward justice work is sometimes more about showing hte world who we are and who we’re not than about the work itself; we have to be perfect in our outward performance so we can better accept ourselves when we’re alone” (pgs. 116-17).
Some facts you need to know:
“Black people are incarcerated most often - at five times the rate of white people” (p. 123). But black people commit more crimes, don’t they? “Black men do commit more crimes than white men - though only 2% of black men commit violent crimes at all” (p. 123). What are some nonviolent crimes? Underage drinking (which wouldn’t ever exist in communities of white college students), smoking or selling marijuana (nope, I never knew any white people who partook in such criminal activity), etc. To put it this way, think of the white people you knew who have committed nonviolent crimes (and if you’re not raising your hand, you may be lying to yourself). How many of them faced a conviction? Or any sort of repercussion at all?
“Black men are killed by law enforcement at twenty-one times the rate of white men because of implicit biases baked into both the laws and the psyches of police officers… (p. 124). TWENTY-ONE TIMES. Please give that statistic the thought that it deserves.
“Though I’m not condoning it, people do occasionally break the law - sometimes on purpose, sometimes by mistake, sometimes out of desperation or for survival, and sometimes just to feel like their part of the crowd… The difference is that the police aren’t circling white kids’ neighborhoods as often, or with the same biases and protocols” (p. 125). Hence why white people are not arrested nearly as often. Not because we are a more moral race, but because we simply don’t get caught due to implicit biases.
Now what about the police officers and firefighters who lose their lives protecting society? Valid question! However the difference can be summed up this simply: “Yes, police officers and firefighters… have lost their lives in the line of duty. But those numbers don’t come close to the number of black men who lose their lives - senselessly - at the hands of police officers every year. There's also a big difference between being the victim of a tragic accident or losing your life protecting the community, and being the target of strategic, systematic, historically state-sponsored attacks on an entire race” (p. 126). Police officers and firefighters sign up to be first responders to potentially dangerous situations. They have chosen that as their profession. Black men have not chosen to be targets and put in dangerous situations for the entirety of their lives.
And now, another hot-button issue: Abortion. “As you may know, Roe v. Wade was decided in 1973, with seven Supreme Court justices voting in favor of a woman’s right to choose. Keep in mind, a conservative-majority court handed down this decision. Republicans at the time, who overwhelmingly viewed reproductive issues as a private matter between a woman and her physician, were actively involved with efforts to legalize abortion. Democrats, which included a huge percentage of the country’s Catholic voters, were largely opposed. Starting in the late ‘70s, the parties began to slowly flip sides on this issue. Republicans were looking for more women voters, and the images of dead babies were a quick and easy way to bring in women who were undecided. The Republicans - who, let me reiterate, were up to this point pro-choice - quickly won a number of seats in key districts, and ultimately the 1980 presidential campaign, by using abortion to flip white, female, religious voters. And they did it by picking a subject - babies - they thought would resonate with their target demographic, and building a message that, ironically, contradicted their previous position just to win the seats and stay in power” (pgs. 182-83). If you are like me, your jaw just smashed into the floor. That’s not a thing… or is it? Arnold’s point in bringing this up is to show just one example about how horribly divided we are as a nation right now. Politics have boiled down to just a few key ideologies regarding reproductive rights, homosexuality, and black lives mattering or not mattering. She argues that a nation this divided is on the road to complete implosion.
In summation, this book offers many facts and it offers many ideas for how to get started in being an activist (and hopefully eventually an accomplice) for change. And if you’re reading it and feel uncomfortable, hurt, called out, let me validate you and say that is exactly what you should be feeling. Arnold herself “raises her hand” right alongside us. We need to recognize just how powerful we white women can be. Our voice matters. So next time you stay quiet to remain “polite” maybe that is the perfect time to start being “impolite”. Commit the social faux pas of being a “mouthy” woman. You may make people at your fancy dinner party uncomfortable, while at the same time planting seeds that could be agents for change. When you’re at brunch with a good friend and you find yourselves making admissions for the men in your lives, “well he just doesn’t know any better” ask yourselves, “How could that possibly be? Could it perhaps be because no one has ever told him “better”?”
Know when to listen (see WAIT above) and speak up when you know you should. Not sure you should say something? Trust your gut. Raise your hands. Take accountability for harm you have caused. Your voice matters. You’re stronger than you may think.
This book is so necessary. While others may have written more concise or eloquent anti racism manifests, Jenna Arnold's treaty to her fellow white women is utterly timely, compassionate, urgent, and important.
THIS 👏🏻 WAS 👏🏻 SO 👏🏻 GOOD! 👏🏻 Seriously, all [of us] white women need to read this book, even if it is only to increase your self-awareness. I cannot speak for everyone, but I know that I want to be a better ally to those who need it. To do this, I am committed to ongoing education and personal growth on the topics of race, gender, sexual orientation, etc…which leads to reading as many books as I can on these topics. I have had a lot of really uncomfortable conversations with myself (& others) in doing this, examining biases and googling things I am/was admittedly ignorant about. This book is hands down one of the most powerful resources I have come across to date.
I need to say it again: This book is powerful. The author breaks down a range of topics in simple and very thoughtful terms. She carefully points out that we do not have time to wait – we need to stand up now, confront our privilege and biases to transform ourselves into the allies we need to be. This is a battle of the species and we should all be on the same team: the one committed to dismantling oppressive systems.
While the organization of the book seems slightly scatterbrained at times, I do like that it is written as more of a personal conversation than an academic lecture. As someone who works on a rural campus where these issues come up regularly, I have witnessed how difficult it is for people to examine themselves; impossible if you are lecturing at them. If you need proof, read any comment section on social media right now. Maybe this approach won't cause them to slam the book closed and throw it before even reaching Chapter 2.
I guess it is worth noting that this is the perspective I am looking at it from: using it on a college campus. So in that regard, whether you are just starting your self-work in these areas or you have been speaking up/out for years, this book can provide useful background/insight and tips for pushing forward.
Many thanks to the publisher for sending me an ARC in exchange for an honest review. Despite having this digital copy, I heading to B&N to order my own physical copy today. I look forward to re-reading, underlining, highlighting, and post-it-noting the crap out of it.
Raising Out Hands by Jenna Arnold was a great read for someone starting out in “raising my hand” in acknowledging my white privilege and having and initiating uncomfortable conversations.
When I first heard of this book, I had no idea how relevant it would become with the Black Lives Matter movement that is happening right now. This book primarily focuses on racism, delving into the history of white supremacy, the patriarchy, white fragility, and white female identity. It also discusses some other topics like materialism, purchasing power and voting.
In this book, Arnold highlights the research she dove into and key takeaways from listening circles she conducted with white women about their role in engaging in conversations that may be uncomfortable.
Overall, I enjoyed this book. It was written in an engaging style that made it easy to read. However, I did read it over the course of a few weeks as it provides a lot of information to take in and digest. In the end, the book did offer a few practical suggestions for raising our hands.
Again, this books was a great starting point for learning more about racism. However, it just barely skimmed the surface, so I have a lot more reading and learning to do in order to educate myself. I look forward to digging deeper and hearing the stories of POC in their own voices.
Thank you to BenBella Books for the gifted copy through a GoodReads giveaway.
This book just didn't do it for me. I was excited about the book's premise, looking specifically at white women's place in the social justice movement. However, the book never really lived up to its promise. Unfortunately I found this book like a basic primer written by a woman I couldn't relate to. Yes many woman need to find ways to break cycles of patriarchy and stand up for themselves and their power, but I felt this book painted all woman as weak and uninformed up until now. I also felt the book careened from one topic to another without really investing in any one fully. The best quotes in this book are when she is quoting someone else. As a result the book comes across as a surface look at the systems of oppression in our society. Overall just not my cup of tea. Perhaps this book will spark others to look deeper at our world, and that is great, but it just isn't my book.
Content: broad, covers a lot of ground and is a great intro to those just starting to grapple with inequality in the US - in all its various forms. I loved the idea of Listening Circles.
Form: boy could I do with a whole lot fewer hand-raise emojis and ellipses! The editor should also have addressed the copious use of footnotes for sidebar comments and explainers that might have actually improved the readability.
I couldn't put this down and was surprised by how much I could relate to in the pages of this book even though my life experience is relatively different than the Author's. This is a really important read for anyone looking to understand their the complexities of the country, even if they're not a white women - and if they are - this should be mandatory.
wow, this book is exactly what I was looking for at this exact moment in time. Arnold carefully thread the needle with so many complex subjects and scratched the surface with each just enough that I have the context I now need to keep going. If you're wondering where to start-start here.
This is a great book if you are a lulu lemon, avocado toast eating white woman unfamiliar with the terms white fragility, cisgender, or latinx. I didn’t take much away from the book and hated the use of emojis. My favorite sections were the brief history lessons.
Thank you to the publisher and NetGalley for providing me with an ARC of Raising Our Hands in exchange for an honest review. All opinions are my own.
The Gist
Raising Our Hands by Jenna Arnold presents itself as a call to action, blending memoir and activism, but falls short of delivering a truly impactful narrative. While the author's intentions are clear and commendable, the execution of the book leaves much to be desired.
The Details
One of the major drawbacks is the uneven balance between personal anecdotes and the broader discussion of social issues. Arnold's memoir often overshadows the promised manifesto for activism, leaving readers wanting more substance and depth in terms of concrete strategies for social change.
The nonlinear structure of the narrative, while attempting to be innovative, ends up feeling disjointed and confusing. The constant shift between the author's personal experiences and broader sociopolitical analyses may alienate readers seeking a more cohesive and focused exploration of the book's themes.
Moreover, Arnold's writing style, while accessible, occasionally lacks the nuance required for the complex issues she addresses. The narrative tends to oversimplify intricate social problems, potentially doing a disservice to the depth and gravity of these issues.
While the book's intent is to inspire action, it may leave some readers feeling more overwhelmed than empowered. The lack of a clear roadmap for tangible change, combined with the book's structural and stylistic issues, detracts from its potential impact as an activist manifesto.
The Verdict
Overall, Raising Our Hands falls short of its ambitious goals. Jenna Arnold's memoir, while heartfelt, lacks the depth and coherence necessary to effectively inspire and guide readers toward meaningful social activism.
i actually have a lot of thoughts on this book, particularly for a book that i’m rating so low as usually i would simply not think about a book like that much but here it goes. firstly, this book is for women very far removed from the political landscape. i’m talking, white upper middle class [at a minimum] women and i would argue on the older side too, as even younger women this far intellectually removed can’t escape it completely because social media etc. so i am not the intended audience given i am extremely politically minded woman who has an extremely and albeit i’d argue THE most at this point, important / political / antiracist job to exist at the present moment. side note: my current journey into racial writing i’m figuring out is my desire to read intellectually heavy, well researched, information and/or arguments [i also am interested in just straight history] so this is not what i was looking for. this is really mostly a self help book for white women. i think many of our moms should read this, maybe. weirdly enough, this book is also not really about race. it’s mostly a call to action for white women all over the political spectrum. it makes some good isolated points — white women have an immense amount of financial and political capital that is simply not tapped into — in addition, makes great arguments for women’s issues, ie, paid maternal care. but again, besides to say, “black women have everything worse than white women”, and honestly, even that obvious statement is more of a “footnote” than thesis, this just didn’t really focus on race.
I kind of hated this book, or at least hate how long I spent reading it. I didn’t find the description to match the contents and wouldn’t consider it worth reading if you weren’t brand new to “the work” of learning about the role whiteness has and continues to play in America. That said, if you had never broached the topic before, this would probably be helpful, as the author peppers in lots of quotes from authors who have dedicated their careers to the subject. The author has also penned a book that’s self referential to the point of oblivion (“as we saw in Chapter 3...”) and managed to insult intelligence and undercut her message by putting phrases like white supremacy in italics, but if we assume that the target audience is woefully ignorant white women I guess that’s a strategic move? Lots of good intent, but with sentences like “the act of engaging warrants a pat on the back, no matter the grade,” and “reading this book and getting to this page qualifies you as a rising ally” its hard to know if the “good” of opening eyes a crack outweighs the harm of letting readers think they’ve made a difference just by looking.
Not what I was looking for. This book is nothing but antidotal commentary of a reality that is not one, I as a white woman have ever experienced.
Since this book was written with the authors biased comments, my personal experiences then should be just as valid. I have been in the professional world for over 20 years and never used what the author refers to as privilege, what she really describes is entitlement. Yes we do have an entitlement problem!
I worry that young readers with minimal experiences in life will read this and think this narrative is fact. This is a perspective of an individual written to sway politically. I found myself shaking my head in disgust over her analogies and at times saying that’s not true!
I had to force myself to finish the book in hopes of a few good nuggets of info, which the book does have. In the end I was deeply disappointed.
I started this book but didn’t finish it, stopping at around 85 pages in. I was frustrated because it seemed like we were continuously building up to some enlightening, teaching, mic drop moment that just… never came. Certain parts were almost patronizing and they promised to draw back a major curtain hiding a big scary truth (that was never fully elaborated on) and it seemed to overuse methods to connect with young, quirky millennial Facebook moms (what was up with the emojis?). I picked this up to learn but wasn’t learning anything new. Perhaps to an older, upper class white woman unaware of the sociopolitical world around her, this would be a good place to start. But if you’re looking for an inspiring call to action, this isn’t it
This was a timely and thoughtful book that should be mandatory reading for all human beings, regardless of race or gender! Many thanks to Jenna Arnold for trying to make the world a better place.
Thank you also to the publisher BenBella Books and Netgalley for the ARC in return for an honest review.
It's tough- the women most likely to read this book are probably already aware of the info included in it. The women who would benefit the most from reading this book aren't likely to read it. Author is probably right that there isn't an easy blue print to follow to change things but I still expected/hope for more guidance.
While the author has some good points and even better questions, this starting point is for a limited audience. It’s clear throughout the book that when she says “white women”, the author means white upper-middle class women who are married with children. Look at with a dose of caution, and consider other authors and books for a better connection to the call to arms in the full title here.
For the right audience, I think this book could be closer to 3.5 stars. However, if you've been doing equity or social justice work for awhile, maybe skip it. Some of the assumptions the author makes about her audience can be really off-putting when they don't apply to the reader. That being said, there are white women in my life that I would definitely recommend this text to, as it is definitely a good entry point into identity and equity work.
So excellent, I bought my 20yo daughter her own copy. Insightful + inspiring, I started recommending it to friends almost as soon as I got a good chunk into it. I could go on about the books attributes, but you know what? Just read it. ✌️