When I returned to the States in early 2008 after living in New Zealand, I was keenly aware of the impending financial disaster. The collapsing housing market had already hit the U.K., and by cultural, political, and economic extension, Australia and New Zealand, months before the first unsettling frissons were felt in the States. I became fascinated with the crisis and read every article and listened to every interview and syndicated show my liberal media mainstays like the NY Times and NPR offered. I knew all about subprime mortgages and credit default swaps.
Not once in those two+ years of following the wobble and ultimate collapse of the world economy did I hear talk of the true origins of the financial crisis in the United States: the introduction of subprime mortgages in Black and brown neighborhoods in the 1990s. This predatory lending was first tried out on vulnerable homeowners — those with the least access to fair capital and the least protected by consumer regulations — before the process was perfected and turned out to the wider public in the 2000s.
Why the omission of this vital aspect of our recent, shared, painful history? Whether deliberate or not, I think it points to the central premise of Heather McGhee's brilliant and illuminating book: white people — liberal or conservative — won't or can't conceptualize racism as a problem that affects them until they are shown how heavily they bear its costs.
McGhee uses the literal metaphor of the cemented-in swimming pool to show how far we (whites) have gone to cut off our nose to spite our face: swimming pools across the US were drained and even filled in with cement when municipalities were ordered to integrate in the 1950s. White America showed it was more willing to deny access to a city pool to everyone than to allow a Black body in its waters.
This ingrained racist myopia led to the election of Donald J. Trump in 2016, when millions of votes were cast in fear and anger by whites who felt left behind in a country increasingly Black and brown. They defaulted to racist scapegoating of the dreaded "other" for their job losses, income inequality, more expensive healthcare, impossible housing costs instead of placing responsibility where it belongs: on corporate America and tax, health, education, and economic policies that benefit an extremely select few: the wealthiest one percent.
McGhee targets issues that we all embrace as core values and shows how racism has corrupted our systems and harmed each and every one of us, including voting rights, Social Security, health care, education, and housing and advocates for a multi-racial approach to defeat the zero sum game that supporters of systemic racism have long promoted.
Although I believe that racism can be defeated on an individual level by integrating communities, I'm not so naive to believe that's ever going to happen on any meaningful level unless we focus on changing systems: laws, policies, practices. You can expend all the energy you want arguing Critical Race Theory, but until we make it a priority to work in solidarity — McGhee's Solidarity Dividend — to overhaul our legislation, crush corporate and big money lobbying and eliminate barriers to public goods and services, e.g. health care, housing, education, and the ballot, we'll be stuck in an endless loop of virtue signaling on social media.
Black and brown folk have carried the greatest burdens of the pandemic, with their limited access to quality health care, their predominance in "essential" jobs that make them physically vulnerable, and distrust of a public health system that has used and abused them so often in our history, and now public sentiment is once again "othering" those who are hesitant to be experimented on once again. Tragically, the pandemic has only widened the gap between the rich and poor of all colors - the laptop class that is free to lockdown at home and send their children to private schools vs those who service their needs- and I fear it will ratchet up the zero-sum game chatter to an even greater frenzy come the next election cycle. It's on liberal, white America who has benefitted the most in the weird, twisted turns of the pandemic to make certain this doesn't happen, but I don't hold out much hope that our increasingly-divided nation will find its footing before then.
This is an extraordinary book — engaging, fascinating and vital. It's a workbook, really — opening the possibility that with the macro issues that McGhee presents, we have the opportunity to take it micro- what are the zoning policies in our counties and municipalities? Who has access to transportation, to school busing, to the ballot box. We have it in us to question and change these policies. Will we?
A note: I was interviewed for and am briefly featured in The Sum of Us. It was honor, albeit humbling, to have shared my awakening to my own racism and continued work to unlearn that which does harm, and to learn and relearn positive action in my journey toward solidarity.