White Like Me: Reflections on Race from a Privileged Son

by Tim Wise

In White Like Me, Tim Wise offers a highly personal examination of the ways in which racial privilege shapes the lives of most white Americans, overtly racist or not, to the detriment of people of color, themselves, and society. The book shows the breadth and depth of the phenomenon within institutions such as education, employment, housing, criminal justice, and healthcare. By critically assessing the magnitude of racial privilege and its enormous costs, Wise provides a rich memoir that will inspire activists, educators, or anyone interested in understanding the way that race continues to shape the experiences of people in the U.S. Using stories instead of stale statistics, Wise weaves a narrative that is at once readable and scholarly, analytical and accessible.

Genres: Nonfiction, Race, Social Justice, Memoir, Politics, Anti Racist, Sociology

250 pages, Paperback

First published December 21, 2004

About the author

Tim Wise is among the most prominent anti-racist writers and activists in the U.S., and has been called the foremost white anti-racist intellectual in the nation, having spoken in 46 states, and on over 300 college campuses, including Harvard, Stanford, Cal Tech and the Law Schools at Yale, Columbia, Michigan, and Vanderbilt.

From 1999 to 2003, Wise served as an advisor to the Fisk University Race Relations Institute and in the early 90s was Associate Director of the Louisiana Coalition Against Racism and Nazism: the group credited by many with the political defeat of white nationalist, David Duke. His anti-racism efforts have been termed revolutionary by NYU professor and award-winning author, Robin D.G. Kelley, and have also earned praise from such noted race scholars as Michael Eric Dyson, Kimberl Crenshaw, Derrick Bell, Joe Feagin, Lani Guinier, and Richard Delgado.

Tim Wise is now the Director of the newly-formed Association for White Anti-Racist Education (AWARE) in Nashville, Tennessee. He lectures across the country about the need to combat institutional racism, gender bias, and the growing gap between rich and poor in the U.S. Wise has been called a "leftist extremist" by David Duke, "deceptively Aryan-looking" by a member of the Ku Klux Klan, and "the Uncle Tom of the white race," by right-wing author, Dinesh D' Souza. Whatever else can be said about him, his ability to make the right kind of enemies seems unquestioned.

Wise is a featured columnist with the ZNet Commentary program: a web service that disseminates essays by prominent progressive and radical activists and educators. His writings are taught at hundreds of colleges and have appeared in dozens of popular and professional journals. Wise serves as the Race and Ethnicity Editor for LIP Magazine, and articles about his work have appeared in the Los Angeles Times, Washington Post and San Francisco Chronicle.

He has contributed to three recent anthologiesWhen Race Becomes Real: Black and White Writers Confront Their Personal Histories (Chicago Review Press, Jan 2004); Should America Pay (HarperAmistad, 2003), a compilation of essays concerning slavery and its aftermath; and The Power of Non-Violence (Beacon Press, 2002)."

Reviews

[Michael · Rating 5 out of 5]

It is rare for me to read a book twice. I can count those books on one hand. I have read this book twice, not because I enjoyed it: I didn't. I read it twice because it is important.

Brief autobiographical sketch: growing up in Somerville, MA (way before it was cool to live there), I had many black friends. By the time I went to junior high school, high school, then college, I had none. None of that was on purpose; it's just the way it happened. While I went to college, I learned from my (predictably) liberal college professors about all the -ists and -isms of America: racism, sexism, heteronormity, misogyny, classism, you name it. Of course, I may have learned it all, but I promptly forgot it, and here's why: the knowledge had no applicability in my world. It was interesting, like knowing the borders of the Late Roman Empire, or how a neuron functioned, but it wasn't something that I ever had cause to use in my day to day life. Everyone I knew was largely like me: white, working class, or middle class, heterosexual (with a few exceptions), and--to me--'normal.' That's what 'normal' was to me: people who looked and spoke and acted and lived as I did.

Fast forward to the United States Navy, where, for the first time in my life, I was actually with people who were not white, Northeastern Catholics. I lived, worked, played, and fought in very close quarters with a lot of black people (or, if you prefer, African-Americans). Sitting in a dark room for twelve hours at a time with nothing to do but talk, or living in the very (very!) difficult environment of a deployed warship, you get to know each other quite well. During those days, for the first (and only) time in my life, I had candid discussions about things like race and class. I learned a lot. My horizons, as they say, were broadened.

Then I forgot all about it. Why? I came home. White. Middle class. Straight (mostly). Catholics. Friends. Family. Co-workers. 'Normal.' When I became a teacher in 1999, one of the first classes I had to take was called "Diversity and Multiculturalism,' or something like that. You can picture my eye-rolling "Oh great, PC bullshit" attitude when I first sat down with my fellow graduate students (including the young lady who would later become my wife). We went to class for about three weeks before my first day in the Boston Public Schools, at Dorchester High School, which was about 95% 'minority'(that is, black, Hispanic, Asian, etc.) I felt as though I had landed on Mars. Everything I had learned about in college, everything my black friends had told me about in the military, and everything I was currently learning about in my "Oh great, PC bullshit" class was absolutely, ass-kickingly, eye-openingly true. BAM! Welcome to America, white boy.

So when I first read this book a few years back, I was startled at how the author's experiences as a white person so closely mirrored my own. I had learned--but promptly forgot, of course--about white privilege even as I experienced it every day. Even typing those words makes me uncomfortable, because I know how horrifically unpleasant this topic is to discuss. White privilege is the benefits you have in our society simply because you are white. Without going on and on about it, understand that there are enormous piles of shit that you, as a white person, never, ever have to deal with as you go about your daily living. Because we do not have to face these things, they are invisible. Because they are invisible, we tend to think that they do not exist.

They do.

I was very moved, and disturbed, after my first reading of White Like Me. I thought to myself, man, I don't have any black friends, or even any black acquaintances. I live in an all white town; my co-workers are all white. When I take vacations, go food shopping, eat at a restaurant, make a stop at the bank or the library or the movies, everyone is, largely, white. I do have a few gay friends and relatives, but for the most part, that's as diverse as it gets in my world. Again: none of this happened on purpose. It just...happened.

So, of course (and you can see where this is going), after a little while, I forgot. Again. Sure, I have black students (and Hispanic students, and gay students, and disabled students, and...) but there is no relationship there beyond ME: Teacher/YOU: Student. Perhaps I am a bit more knowledgeable than many of those with whom I work about issues related to poverty and things like that, but that's something we deal with as work issues, not something personal.

A few weeks ago, a person I admire read and reviewed this book, reminding me, in my little white bubble, that the world as I experience it is not the world that a great many other people experience it. I am white, educated, heterosexual, Christian, employed, insured, healthy, and live in a town with no crime, good schools, and a lot of police. 'Normal,' right?

Not so much.

Race, and the legacy of our nation's past, is the 800 pound elephant in America's living room. We'll do anything to avoid talking about it because when we do talk about it, it tends to get ugly and mean. Perhaps, as you are reading this review, you feel yourself growing angry, or perturbed. Perhaps you are thinking about ways to counter what I've said. Feel that snarly, dyspeptic wave sweeping over you right now? That's what I'm talking about (and trust me, it happens to me, too).

I have no idea what the solution to the problems in our country are with regard to race. I do know, from my own experience, that as a member of the ruling majority, it is easy to ignore the whole thing. I also know that, because of the way my life and work and living arrangements are structured, it's not hard to take for granted the many, many benefits I have as a white person in America. Likewise, it is entirely too easy to skip over the problems that many non-white people face on a day to day basis. I don't see them, right? They must not be there, and even if they are...well...personal responsibility (or some other bromide).

It is easy, on other words, to forget. Trust me, I know. I forget all of the time.

This is the part of my review where I am supposed to write, "But THIS time! Oh, this time!" except, most likely, that would be a lie (or perhaps a distortion of the truth). Not much changes for me in my world, except, perhaps, my perceptions of it. I can only hope and pray that this time, I will remember, and do what I can, when I can, for who I can, to push back against this giant elephant that's set up shop in my beloved America's living room. Because, really, we don't have forever to figure this out.

Forgetting has a price.

[Anthony Ricardi · Rating 3 out of 5]

Yes, it's important for white people to talk to each other about white privilege and racism. No, I do not think this book is "the most important book of our time". I think it's arrogant of him to talk about how he makes his living doing anti-racist work with not really any discussion about what allows him to make money repeating observances about whiteness that people of color have been sharing for centuries without getting paid to do so. I also think he's such a "dude" that it made it hard for me to read story after story about him. On the plus side, a lot of white people will probably learn something from his memoir. There is some smart and thoughtful commentary presented in an a more accessible way than the typical academic theory. If you can get past how annoying and misogynistic and white dude it is.

[Rebecca · Rating 4 out of 5]

OK, majorly important book here. Let's please take a moment and give Tim Wise the ridiculous amount of respect he deserves for advancing the dialogue on white privilege. I want to give this book 5 stars just for its existence. I settled on 4 because I don't know if it's a brilliant book, but it's without a doubt a provokingly honest book. I hope that readers will come away from it as I did, not guilt-stricken but with a greater sense of empathy and mindfulness.

Grounding an exploration of white privilege in his personal narrative is obviously an intentional choice that raises the bar for all of us to examine race and privilege in our own lives. And an accessible rather than scholarly text? No problem here. That being said, I felt it sort of went back and forth between "treatise on white privilege" and "this is a memoir so excuse me for a moment while I work out my own family issues."

Relatedly, I feel like the title may as well have been "White liberal activist like me." He works with people from all walks of life in his speaking career, but this book seemed pretty narrowly aimed at the white crowd who honestly call themselves progressive on race and other social issues, were activists or sympathetic to activism while obtaining a liberal arts degree, and are eager to have their eyes opened to the insidious nature of white privilege. This is, of course, his own background, and we are the demographic most likely to pick up his book. But for a speaker gifted at connecting with all kinds of audiences, why not write with the same aim?

In fact one of the strongest aspects of the book is that for whatever reaction you might want to voice, he's had that conversation before. His most effective strategy is including anecdotes from his own experience where criticism pushed him to even deeper understanding. Like the man who had known Wise's grandfather, a Jew who gave back to the black community where he owned a liquor store, and asked him how it felt that "such a good man, was, for all intents and purposes, a drug dealer in the ghetto?" He works through that uncomfortable realization to conclude that all of us are neither good nor bad, but complicated, and that the best of intentions cannot shield us from overwhelming social forces that tend to make us part of the problem.

Says Wise: "We could make our lives a hell of a lot easier if we'd just embrace the complication and confront the contradictions with our eyes and our hearts wide open, willing to celebrate our victories but also willing to learn from our failures."

One of the most powerful moments comes when he relays the story of an early lecture. A young white woman spoke up with, "I really agree with you, and would love to do the kind of work you do, but I'm afraid black people won't trust me, won't accept my contribution." In the interests of furthering rather than suppressing debate, he chose to let an obviously angry black woman give the expected response. "Make NO mistake, we do hate you and we don't trust you for one minute!"

He gives a thoughtful reply, excerpted thusly:
"Ultimately, I'm not doing this for you... I don't view it as my job to fight racism so as to save you from it. To do so would be paternalistic... I fight racism because racism is evil and I don't want to contribute to, or collaborate with, evil. I fight it because it's a sickness in my community, and I'm trying to save myself from it."

Furthermore, in this discussion of resistance he writes:
"I want to be clear that I (and other whites) have an obligation to do this work."
"What white liberals must understand is that people of color owe us nothing. They don't owe us gratitude when we speak out about racism. They don't owe us a pat on the back. They don't owe us a goddamn thing."

Now we're getting somewhere! I do think that he could perhaps have left his readers with some more concrete tools for empowering them to be allies for people of color. But I suppose we all are meant to seek our own paths. Or maybe he'll just have to write another book.

[Zefyr · Rating 3 out of 5]

Wise is very accessible to many white people. I am not one of those people, and I don't tend to interact in person with too many of those people, and generally find him irritating. He writes like the world is black and white, so when he starts to talk about the experiences of Black and white people he simplifies to make points in a way that tends to deny or disregard the experiences of people who don't fit so easily into that. I've often wondered if the ease of communicating issues of race along these simplified terms is worth the cost of ingraining into so many people's heads the idea that issues of race are really that simple. I haven't figured this out yet. I don't know. I know it's a common technique so it's not all Wise here by any means, but he's one of the most well-known and commonly listened to examples of it. I found it particularly difficult to read this book because a lot of this is about his experience being a Jewish white man in the South, descendant of slave owners. That's a pretty white experience, especially as he passes. So most of what he says specifically about being Jewish and white didn't relate to my experience at all, as someone who is read as white but also Jewish and who grew up in Los Angeles as a third-generation American in spaces that were heavily Latino or Chinese so race just didn't operate along clear Black/white lines. Not that race, or my whiteness, didn't play a part; it's just not one Wise's privileged-son status seems to be aware of, much less to reflect on.

But I'm also aware that his writing does work for many people. I've watched time after time as some argument on a campus or the internet occurs, Black people say some stuff about their experiences, white people ignore them and call them oversensitive or whatever it is, Wise comes to speak on campus or a piece of his writing gets posted generally saying the exact same things the Black people were saying, all of a sudden the same white people are lauding Wise's words and thanking him for it. And that's some shit. Can that really be considered working?

But maybe that's the key to this whole thing: he's not a brilliant writer, his insights on race are not brilliant. The basic arguments about race that have been put forward so much that they're practically kneejerk reactions for many Black people, he's listened to and internalized and managed to kneejerk-repeat too, and he can come at it without the impact of the aggressions and microaggressions that he'd experience speaking up while black, and he can come at it with the privilege of being a valid source of information (on the experiences of Black people) due to being a white person, and he's famous for it.

He is a privileged son, his success is the infuriating product of a racist society, and that's some shit.

[Colin · Rating 3 out of 5]

Wise has crafted an engaging, personal and at times moving account of the effects of "whiteness" on his family and on "white" people as a whole. I also had several issues with the book.

The book's tone was somewhat uneven, as Wise used random "fuck yous" and sarcasm infrequently enough that it was somewhat jarring when it happened, and occasionally seemed forced and sanctimonious. Even though I usually like that type of writing style (like Inga Muscio, for example) I don't think Wise pulled it off that well.

I strongly disagree with his methodology of telling other white people that he's black in order to "challenge" their racism, which he has also written about elsewhere. I think that's profoundly disrespectful to the actual lived experiences of folks of color and mixed people. He also makes some sweeping and problematic generalizations, arguing for example that because of racism, "to be black in America is to not be in a position to ingest the latest social science study on the subject" of child discipline (22). In essence, he argues here that (all) black people have to beat their children/allow their children to be beaten by school authorities because of racism, and the implication is that it's because they are not well-educated enough/or don't have time enough to do otherwise. The book is framed almost exclusively in a black/white dichotomy as well, which I think profoundly limits its explorations of what whiteness really means.

On the plus side, I particularly appreciated his thoughts on the "redemption of struggle," an important re-frame of social justice work away from the progress/victory/payoff model. He quotes Desmond Tutu saying, "You do not do the things you do because others will necessarily join you in the doing of them, nor because they will ultimately prove successful. You do the things you do because the things you are doing are right." He sees "whiteness" as a "soul wound" for "white" people that severely harms our humanity even as it privileges us, and i'm inclined to agree. I also think he covers important ground when he talks about the emptiness of "whiteness" and a need to re-connect with lost European cultural histories and ancestors.

Definitely thought-provoking, worth reading. We need many, many more examples of anti-racist white folks writing books!

[Terra · Rating 3 out of 5]

The content of this book is outstanding. Wise makes many a good point about whiteness and the privilege it allows for and I did take away a lot of information in reading this book. Wise brings up a a lot of great points that I think more white people need to hear.

My problem with this book, was the tone. Wise assumed the reader was an absolute idiot, and he comes off in the book as such a dude, such a bro, that I had a hard time keeping up with it. I loved the content, hated the tone. And it wasn't that what he was saying was hard for me to hear - no. A lot of the topics he raised are things I'd thought about and have even studied. It's just that when I read a book like this, I want to put it down feeling inspired, not like I was just berated for being born white. I understand that he was trying to point out how we're all a little bit racist, no matter how hard we try to squash it, but someone who's going to pick up his book is generally not going to be someone who needs a lecture about what a jerk they are for being white for 200 pages.

What turned me off the most was his epilogue on Katrina, a 10 page bitch session about how "I" don't know what really happened there, about how "I" still think race didn't play an issue in the awful events that took place in New Orleans in 2005. His assumptions on my ignorance left me frustrated and annoyed. Frankly, as I watched the television news coverage in 2005, which Wise complains about for several pages, I was well aware that race was an issue. I've seen the newspaper clippings of a black woman holding her child and a loaf of bread with a caption explaining how she was looting and the other newspaper clipping of a white woman doing the exact same thing with a caption explaining she was searching for food to provide for her child. I get it. Race was the bigger issue than the hurricane, a fact I knew as soon as I saw the news coverage. I really didn't need a letter from him explaining it all to me, accusing me of sticking my head in the sand or pretending like it wasn't an issue. He could have explained it differently, without insulting my intelligence.

[Audacia Ray · Rating 3 out of 5]

Wise's book is interesting and useful as an introduction for white people to encourage thinking about race and privilege. That's a good thing, for sure - but it's a safe and white-mediated approach to thinking about race. For real and challenging stuff on race, you should actually be reading writers who are people of color. Case in point: each chapter opens with a relevant quote from James Baldwin's writings - and I recommend that you prioritize reading and listening to Baldwin instead of Wise.

I'm keeping this review short because you really should read this Womanist Musings piece about the limitations of Tim Wise: http://www.womanist-musings.com/2010/...

[Francesca Calarco · Rating 3 out of 5]

If there is one topic of discussion that makes people more uncomfortable than prejudice, it's privilege. Both elements constitute opposite sides of the same injustice, so to only speak of one would leave the conversation woefully incomplete. In his thematic memoir, White Like Me: Reflections on Race from a Privileged Son, Tim Wise details the self-reflection of his own white privilege in an accessible and personal account.

While good, I do not rate this book higher for two reasons. First, as the concepts of this book are extracted wholly from Tim's personal exploration, I do feel that there are elements of privilege theory that were left underdeveloped. There is an absence of literature on the subject, but the lack of a bibliography was still nonetheless disappointing. Second, Frances E. Kendall wrote a better book on this topic, Understanding White Privilege: Creating Pathways to Authentic Relationships Across Race, that I feel better tackles the subject-matter, especially when it comes to different levels of privilege and how they interplay.

That said, Tim's personal account is worth reading. There is something moving about a person honestly detailing how they were wrong about something important, even if it paints a deeply unflattering image, and then how they learned from their mistakes and moved to do better. Furthermore, as many of these examples of Tim's privilege are presented through his own prominent memories of eureka moments in which he erred, he does do a good job of showing how even well-meaning people can unwittingly contribute to societal problems.

"...we mustn't romanticize our resistance, but fight to maintain its presence in our lives, knowing that it could easily vanish in a moment of weakness, anger, insecurity, or fear... it is because we spend so much of our time in that other place--a place of diminished capacity and wavering commitment--that we have to be careful" (92)

Also good, is his approach to being an ally. Pointing out your privilege should be neither an outward accusation (unless it has to be, and sometimes it really does) nor an uncouth call for personal self-aggrandizement to show what a "good" person you are--it should be just stating basic reality. Truth-telling is the bare minimum for being a decent person, and acknowledging racial privilege does not belittle other types of personal struggle (e.g., gender, sexuality, nationality, mental health, poverty, etc.). Tim does a good job of explaining how his white privilege benefited and protected him from poor choices, while others making the same mistakes would have faced far more serious consequences.

Overall, this is a pretty solid book and it's worth reading, though I would recommend the Kendall volume first.

[Sera · Rating 5 out of 5]

I borrowed this book from one of the teachers at my daughter's school. This teacher also facilitates the diversity series that I had mentioned in my review of The Hate U Give. The program will be longer this year and starts in a couple of weeks. I am glad that I had a chance to read Wise's book prior to then, because there is so much to discuss.

Wise is an activist who wrote this book to help white people understand how privileged their lives are versus minorities in America and by doing the right thing when it comes to certain issues, such as race, they can help make the world a better place. He gives numerous examples of how whites don't have to worry about the same thing that blacks do, such as being more likely to be arrested for possessing drugs or getting pulled over for a traffic violation. Wise's book was written prior to all of the police shootings of blacks that have taken place over the past few years, which provides a more recent example of one more thing that whites don't have to worry about (or really even think about) in this country.

Wise's book covers additional territory around his first hand experiences working with poor people, and presents a stark picture of what really happened in regard to Hurricane Katrina and how unfair it was to blame the African Americans who weren't able to evacuate. Wise also examines himself when it comes to race and gives advice to parents on how to help raise children who are informed about the history of our nation and how certain groups of people have been treated.

Even though I feel pretty in tune when it comes to issues of race, class and even gender, I found Wise's perspective to be a real eye opener. He also ends his book with messages of hope and pragmatism. It's pretty simple - just do the right thing.

Here a quote from the book that I love, written to Wise by Archbishop Desmond Tutu:

You do not do the things you do because other people will join you in doing them nor because they will ultimately be successful. You do the things you do because you are doing right.

Yep, pretty simple.

[Shifra · Rating 5 out of 5]

Accessible, thoughtful, challenging, provocative. Although I have read and thought a lot about race, racism, whiteness and white privilege, Wise's book adds new layers of nuance and texture to the ideas, and spells out how systemic oppression and privilege work, while trying to remain invisible. A really worthwhile read, it is also a memoir, so personal and honest.

Yet I couldn't help struggling with the fact that part of his white privilege is to make a living lecturing, teaching and writing about racism and white privilege. He mentions it eventually, but doesn't quite resolve my conflicts about it. I believe he's quite well paid, after all, and not running a non-profit. It's a double bind, since it also sucks to assume that only people of color should (or are qualified) to do anti-racism work-- that's another kind of racism. Ulimately, that strikes me as the hard truth of racism- it's a no-win double bind at times, with no neat and easy answers.

[M. Aedin · Rating 5 out of 5]

I really wish I could blackmail, bribe, force, or otherwise entice everyone I know to read this book. There are very few people who would not benefit from this honest exploration of white privilege and how it's not only harmful to people of color, but to whites as well.

I had to read it for a Sociology class in school, and I know some of my classmates were annoyed at the conversational style of the book, but I felt that was one of its strengths. It was at all times engaging and easy to read, even of some of the material was hard to swallow. A bitter little pill hidden in the sweet treat of some very smooth, very entertaining writing.

It hurts to see the level that racism is perpetuated by the oblivion of "good people," but I think it's necessary, and I love this book for showing it to me.

[Kate · Rating 2 out of 5]

the fact that this book scored higher in average rating than water for elephants makes me puke in my mouth....although some good points are brought up in this book they are overshadowed, stunted, and reduced by wise's arrogant, self riteous, self important, obtuse, arrogant and generalized view point which for some strange reason he thinks makes him important enough that we should care about it enough to read his book. I only finished it because I had to for class. I threw it across the room more than once.

[Megan · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 stars. This book is interesting. I definitely respect Mr.Wise for acknowledging and accepting the oppressions past and current for POCs. He takes us through his journey of becoming an activist and how everything isn't flowers and candy when you go against the grain. But it is worth it.

[Elizabeth · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book isn't bad and is well written from a technical standpoint. Wise is a good writer, and he gets to the point very well. But honestly, I had to read this for my education class, and I would have preferred to read from a person of color's perspective. While I think this can teach white people about our biases, I just think a lot of what Wise talked about can be found in other memoirs/novels written by authors of color that can make a more profound impact. This isn't a bad book at all, just perhaps not for me (also, for an agnostic Wise felt fairly preachy at times, but hey, thats just me). Overall, a fine book but nothing groundbreaking or new (although maybe it was new for its time? I wouldn't know since I was so young when it first came out).

[Sheryl Sorrentino · Rating 5 out of 5]

White Like Me takes no prisoners in exposing this country's sordid racial history and its present-day vestiges, which every thinking person should realize are alive and well—thriving, in fact, under this current administration. He takes an admittedly squirm-worthy subject matter and makes it superbly understandable through his user-friendly, almost "folksy" chronicle of his personal life experiences of white privilege. I couldn't put this book down, which is usually not the case for me with non-fiction writers. Indeed, this racial exposé that is equal parts memoir truly makes the political personal, which is exactly what this nation needs if we are ever to have a "white awakening."

That being said, this book is not perfect. While overall it's a five-star read, it contains a half-dozen or so annoying typos ("your" for "you're"; "effect" for "affect"; and others I noticed but didn't initially mark because I wasn't expecting so many). I see White Like Me was published by a small press in Berkeley, California, so I can somewhat forgive this. But for as important as the subject matter is (especially with a "racist-in-chief" occupying the Oval Office), the otherwise excellent job Mr. Wise does shedding sunshine on darkness could stand a fine-toothed editing so that its presentation is equally excellent. Also, Mr. Wise, like many storytellers allowed to expound on important political/social issues through uncensored personal vignettes, sometimes veers afield or draws questionable conclusions from his personal experiences. But this is nothing that said "edit" couldn't fix.

For example, while I generally agree with the author's argument that "political power," when held by people of color, does not necessarily translate to "economic power," his example of the Prime Minister of Bermuda does not hold up to intellectual scrutiny. Alex Scott (the Black Bermudian PM) was made to apologize to a white political opponent for an anti-white comment he made via email. I daresay that (before January 2017 at least) had a white U.S. politician made a similar comment about being "sick-and-tired" of receiving criticism from people who "look like" thus-and-such Black person, he (or she) would have been chastised and forced to apologize. Mitt Romney's ("those people" don't even pay taxes") remark probably cost him the 2012 election. So while I do not disagree that Black elected officials too often have to kowtow to the sensibilities of white opponents and constituents (one need look no further than Barack Obama to see this phenomenon in play), I think the above Bahamian example falls flat.

Other than these minor weaknesses, White Like Me is a powerful read, made all the more compelling because it is written by a privileged white male—one who recognizes that being Jewish (like being gay) does not automatically obliterate one's white advantage, and who has truly put his money where his mouth by dedicating his life to exposing and combating racism. His oft-repeated example about how his grandparents' home (in a racially-redlined district) helped finance his college education, while tiring in its repetitiveness, hit home for me. My father, lacking even a high-school diploma, was able to buy a ten-room home in a solid, all-white neighborhood with good schools and virtually no crime. It abutted a tonier town across the city line. All throughout my life, I, a veritable "nobody" with no connections, saw doors magically open as I got my education and sought higher-paying jobs and better opportunities. First, by virtue of my (actual) Jewish last name, I was (nod, nod; wink, wink) invited with open arms into probably a dozen predominantly Jewish law firms in various roles over the course of my career. Second, when I told interviewers, in all types of jobs, where I had grown up, the knowing nods affirmed me as being "one of them" despite my sketchy-upbringing, despite being half-Jewish and half-Italian, despite being female, and despite being solidly lower middle-class/borderline "white trash." That childhood address branded me a well-raised, solidly middle-class white girl who had come up on the "right side of the tracks." I moved seamlessly from cashier in high school, to secretary and paralegal in college and law school, and ultimately to attorney at large and "exclusive" law firms on both coasts. Had I been a Black woman from the Bronx sitting for those same job interviews, I seriously doubt those doors would have flung open so easily.

I think it is extremely important for every white person, regardless of background or economic station, to take stock of how their skin color has advantaged them—to whatever degree. That task honestly and humbly completed, we have an obligation to speak out whenever and however we can to acknowledge the disparities in treatment that have so benefited us compared to our brothers and sisters of color. We must recognize "white backlash" and so-called "reverse discrimination" for precisely what they are: white angst and resentment not about unfair treatment, but simply about being asked to cede a tiny bit of our privilege so that others might have a shot at the things all of us want: a decent, safe place to live; a job with a living wage; a good education for our children. Even that small bit of recognition and "sharing" is apparently too much for white people to abide and get behind. How shameful.

White apathy to racial injustice is pervasive, because that injustice benefits white people and is largely invisible to us. It is so embedded into our legal system and social fabric that we view racial injustice—if we acknowledge it at all—as something happening "out there" someplace else to someone else—to "those people" about whom we might not especially care because we're essentially doing okay. And even if we do care, what are we supposed to do about it anyway? Shouldn't "they" just "get over it" and "move on"? And how can anything we say or do possibly help move the needle?

I loved Wise's allegory of a new CEO who had just taken over a multi-billion dollar corporation. He blithely tells his CFO that he plans to ignore the liabilities column of the balance sheet because "he wasn't there" when those liabilities were incurred. Too many white people argue that "my family never owned slaves" (if that happens to be true—many white families can trace their roots—and their privilege—back to slave-owning families) or "I never personally oppressed Black people," ignoring the fact that each and every one of us has been born into a system with unpaid liabilities on its balance sheet, those being the genocide of Native Americans and the enslavement and continued separation of Black and brown people. To quote Mr. Wise: "The notion of utilizing assets but not paying debts is irresponsible, to say nothing of unethical. Those who reap the benefits of past actions and the privileges that have come from whiteness are certainly among those [who] have an obligation to take responsibility for our use of those benefits." How true, typo notwithstanding.

As for what difference anything I do can make, Mr. Wise argues compellingly that ultimately "winning" the battle is beside the point. There is a long and largely ignored history of white resistance to racism and injustice in this country, and it behooves decent white people to identify with that version of our white heritage and to join in. Resisting racism, standing on the right side of these issues, and taking the moral high-ground (rather than standing idly on the sidelines while this ugly battle rages)—that is the point. It boils down to what sort of person you want to be, and what sort of life you want to live. For every one of us white folk—and especially those who call themselves Christian or "people of faith"—there is no more important question to answer in this lifetime.

I was also persuaded by the author's arguments as to why racism and unequal treatment harm not only people of color, but white people, too. Systematic unfair advantage presumes that white people aren't good enough to "make it" without the head start and "leg-up" we implicitly and undeservedly expect as our birthright. This allows too many mediocre white people to excel while only the most spectacular people of color are allowed similar gains. It lumps all white people into the same selfish, ignorant, clueless "basket of deplorables" in the eyes of our darker-skinned brothers and sisters, when many (most?) of us can, should, and in fact want to "do better" by them.

Just as our current pr*sident has given license to white supremacists to "come out of the woodwork" with their tiki torches and vile rhetoric, Mr. Wise gives moral imperative to decent, right-thinking white people to "show up" and SPEAK UP. For that message alone, for that permission, Mr. Wise's book deserves five stars.

[Jesse · Rating 4 out of 5]

At first I was annoyed with Wise's habit of writing everything as if meant to be underlined by undergraduate sociology students, as well as his tendency to reiterate points as if it's assumed that it wouldn't be grasped the first time around. But I stuck with it, for not only was it pointed out that maybe I'm just lucky that some of these things aren't completely new for me (and yes, Jane, you can take most of the credit there), but because Wise has a formidable talent for using personal anecdotes to illustrate his points in a compelling manner.

And it all leads up to a profound and moving crescendo. The high point, for me, was the penultimate chapter titled "Loss," in which Wise articulates and attempts to answer the question "why... would the privileged ever give up that thing that sets them apart from, and above, everyone else?" In many ways it's the central question of the book, and to be honest, I was completely expecting some creative (and ultimately unconvincing) intellectual and theoretical gymnastics. Instead, I was floored by Wise's lamentation of what exactly is lost in the great homogenizing concept of "whiteness," and why it's such a devastating forfeit on both a personal and collective level. It was worth reading the entire book, just for that illuminating chapter alone.


"What does it mean to be white? Especially in a nation created by people like you, for people like you? We don't often ask this question, mostly because we don't have to. Being a member of the majority, the dominant group, allows one to ignore how race shapes one's life. For us, whiteness simply is; it becomes the unspoken, uninterrogated norm, taken for granted..."

[Hannah · Rating 4 out of 5]

Well...it DID take me four months to finish; in part, because the contents were so heavy and thought-provoking that I took a long time to process and apply, and in part, simply because spring is CRAZY and I didn't have much time to read - and when I did I opted for lite things a la Jonathan Tropper etc. That said - SO glad I read this and can't wait to debrief it further with both white and POC friends. Tim's unabashed conviction, historical knowledge, and vulnerability were super inspiring to me.

[LaVenna · Rating 1 out of 5]

This book stunk! I was forced to read and write about it in my CES class:P

[Shadira · Rating 5 out of 5]

A memoir of white privilege explores the various ways in which white skin constitutes an advantage in American society in education, employment, housing, criminal justice, and health care.
The inspiration for the acclaimed documentary film, this deeply personal polemic reveals how racial privilege shapes the daily lives of white Americans in every realm: employment, education, housing, criminal justice, and elsewhere.

Using stories from his own life, Tim Wise examines what it really means to be white in a nation created to benefit people who are “white like him.” This inherent racism is not only real, but disproportionately burdens people of color and makes progressive social change less likely to occur. Explaining in clear and convincing language why it is in everyone’s best interest to fight racial inequality, Wise offers ways in which white people can challenge these unjust privileges, resist white supremacy and racism, and ultimately help to ensure the country’s personal and collective well-being.

Racial privilege shapes the lives of white Americans in every facet of life, from employment and education to housing and criminal justice. Using stories from his own life, Tim Wise shows that racism not only burdens people of color, but also benefits those who are "white like him" whether or not they’re actively racist. Using stories instead of stale statistics, Wise weaves a compelling narrative that assesses the magnitude of racial privilege and is at once readable and scholarly, analytical yet accessible.

[Johnny · Rating 5 out of 5]

Every white person needs to read this book. Although I'm not white, I picked it up for a variety of reasons. The immediate impetus was a discussion I had with my senior students a few weeks ago focused on race. It was one of those moments where the teacher totally scraps the day's lesson because we began an impromptu important conversation that was both necessary and difficult. I teach in a mostly white suburban school, and as a non-white teacher, my perspective and logic doesn't always speak to the majority of my students in the way that I want it to. I had been meaning to read Wise's book for a while, and after that discussion with my students, I decided it was time to do so in the hopes that it would give me some insight on the white perspective, as well as some specific responses that might be heard more readily by a white audience of teenagers.

Over the past few years since adopting an African American daughter, I've done a fair amount of reading about race and privilege in this country. My family is marginalized in a lot of ways--gay parents; my husband is white, but I am Dutch Indonesian; two adopted kids, one black and one Hispanic--so I've been trying to educate myself recently on ways in which I can help my kids navigate the difficult waters of twenty-first century America. Because of this though, I did find the book's beginning a bit slow, since I had already been a convert for several years to the existence of white privilege; these early chapters are important for Wise's later discussions, but I do wish he had included additional statistics and research, something he does a lot of later on in the book. He does initially though make his position very clear while at the same time addressing inevitable criticisms and counter-arguments. He makes it a point to note that he is "not claiming...that all white are wealthy and powerful. We live not only in a racialized society, but also in a class system, a patriarchal system, and one of straight supremacy/heterosexism, able-bodied supremacy, and Christian hegemony. These other forms of privilege, and the oppression experienced by those who can't manage to access them, mediate, but never fully eradicate, something like white privilege." The specific focus of the book though is on whiteness and how being "white is to rarely find oneself feeling 'out of place' the way a person of color would likely" feel being lost on the back roads of Idaho in the middle of a storm, and he is quick to point out that "being white in an urban, mostly black and brown community is hardly equivalent" because whites rarely "find [themselves] in such places [except] by choice" while "people of color can't really avoid white spaces, and if they do it's probably because they live in the poorest areas and are the most destitute persons of color around."

After establishing a strong foundation for the existence of white privilege, he moves on to discuss specific ways in which it and the pernicious effects of systemic and institutionalized racism can be countered. As I have often heard people say that homophobia is really the problem of heterosexuals, Wise claims that "only when whites start challenging other whites, and begin to break the wall of silence that so often enables racist behavior, is anything likely to change"; however he offers such advice with a keen sense of pragmatism. He notes that confronting those who tell racist jokes for example is better than nothing, but just telling them that the joke offends you simply forces the racism underground--it doesn't really do anything to change the racist thinking that prompted it. He talks about ways in which we can engage people ignorant of white privilege and institutionalized racism in rhetorical discussions, something to which I paid great attention as a teacher. After all, as Wise consistently says, there is much more to eliminating racism than simply being an individually good person and that racism exists even where we would like to ignore it: "white folks all around the nation sometimes mistake being civil and kind and 'nice' with actually doing something to end injustice. But just because you're nice to people, just because you chat around the water cooler, or whatever, doesn't mean that racism and inequity aren't present in the place where you work or go to school."

While much of the text is depressing in its accounting of the realities of our country, there are moments of optimism and hope. Wise suggests that "it is always harder to stand up for what's right if you think you're the only one doing it. But if we understood that there is a movement in history of which we might be a part, as allies to people of color, how much easier might it be to begin and sustain that process of resistance?" He advocates for reshaping the way we educate and socially condition our children (there is a fantastic section about the media we expose our kids too, especially Disney films), and proposes that we must be more than explicit with them about our words and actions in relation to race, quoting James Baldwin saying, "Children have never been very good at listening to their elders, but they have never failed to imitate them."

The entire book is incredibly convincing, although I'm sure I'm overly impressionable in this regard; he extends his thought process to many aspects of our culture, from the myth of the American Dream to fallacy of liberalism in the media. He theorizes on school shootings and Welfare reform, and this edition of the text even includes his open letter to whites following Hurricane Katrina. Persuasively expansive, this is an important book that should be required for the dominant members of our society.

[Steph · Rating 2 out of 5]

I found this book problematic and frankly I couldn’t get through it. Not because the topics were uncomfortable, but because the tone was uncomfortable. This book is about white privilege, and ironically, it felt like I was being preached at by a white man who often took the position of the expert, without acknowledging the privilege with which comes with that. While it is NEVER a person of color’s job to teach white people about race, white people will never be the experts on the topic either. It often felt like through his experiences/stories of his upbringing, there was with “I know because I was a champion for civil rights since I was a kid” attitude that didn’t sit right with me— like the performative “but I’m friends with a black person so I can’t be racist!” narrative that was just really uncomfortable. Also, he has privilege as a white MAN that others do not have. Idk, it just made me uncomfortable to read at times. The topics themselves are super important and I think the way the story was told was overshadowed by the overall tone.

[Jenn · Rating 4 out of 5]

I was introduced to Tim Wise when he came to lecture some two decades ago at my social work school. He inspired me then and in this reading of the third edition of this book. He speaks honestly of antiracist work through his lens as a white southerner, now ordered chronologically. While it began slow, each chapter offered wisdom and anecdote, alongside data and stories of events happening at that time. There is an inspiring book, written for two decades ago and deeply relevant for today’s injustices, rooted in history and now newly unearthed.

[Kathleen Norton · Rating 4 out of 5]

the overall impact and message of this book is definitely 5 stars and probably every white person should read this. it gave me a new, empowering way to think about justice work. but i think quite frequently wise over-wrote, the way singers sometimes over sing. i found myself rolling my eyes at his prose every once in a while and sometimes looking up complicated descriptive words only to find they could have easily been replaced by a more accessible choice. that's silly for a book like this.
none of that is THAT big of a deal though. i am glad i read the edition that's in chronological order, i can't imagine what the earlier edition must have been like.

[YupIReadIt · Rating 5 out of 5]

Forever necessary, forever relevant

[Jerry Smith · Rating 5 out of 5]

The question of race is obviously divisive and emotional and is an issue about which I am embarrassed to be undereducated. I read books such as this to point my thought processes in directions they might otherwise miss. As a result "White like me" isn't exactly light reading, but sprinkled liberally with anecdotes and personal stories, is written in a very approachable way and addresses areas beneath the surface of racism into structural racism and white privilege.

As abhorrent as I find anything to do with bigotry in general and racism in particular, Wise invites us to examine our own thought processes for the insidious impact of cultural racism on how we think about and perceive racism. He challenges and explodes the idea white people sometimes expound that they "don't have a racist bone in their body" or that "I don't see color". I have long been uncomfortable with those statements but been unsure where to go from there. This book helps explain why we need to examine those matters more closely and that racism damages us all.

I am tired of hearing white friends espouse that America is all about opportunity and that anyone, of any race, has the same chance to make it in this society, with President Obama held up as the prime example. The problem with this is that it is patently untrue and to suggest that, is a (probably unconscious but not always) racist view. It implies that those people who don't make it, despite overwhelming odds, are at fault. They should have worked harder, been more intelligent and so on. It is a way to close our eyes to a system that keeps others down and not feel that we are overtly racist.

And that's the thing. The rise of Trump has shown us that racism is still prevalent in society and given the opportunity, can and will surface in horrendously overt ways. However, in most spheres it is unacceptable to articulate overly racist opinions (as it should be) but that doesn't mean those opinions have gone a way and perhaps more importantly, we are still living in a society that is structurally and socially engineered for whites to the detriment of others. We need to fight that wherever we see it and this book not only points that out but gives some pointers as to how we can do that.

Racism hasn't gone away. It is offensive and unacceptable for whites to tell African American's that they should somehow "get over slavery" or that "reverse racism is just a bad". I urge people to read this book especially if you think that racism is over.

[Molly · Rating 4 out of 5]

White privilege is something I didn't understand very well until I became a public school teacher. I think I understand better after reading this book. I certainly had a few moments of resistance and/or shame while reading, as I think many readers would. It's hard for anyone to recognize their own privilege, to buy into the idea that they *are* privileged, when they don't feel so in other ways. We all believe we're struggling.

This book is entirely anecdotal, which might make it easy for some to say, "Well, isn't that just, like, Wise's opinion, man?" I kind of wish more books were written this way, though. It's deeply personal and a real page-turner.

What I found most interesting was the "Loss" chapter, in which Wise talks about how harmful whites' racism toward people of color is to whites themselves (he gives many examples), how oppression oppresses the oppressor, in a way, and so fighting racism isn't something white people should do *for* people of color but for themselves (and because it's right). One way that Wise says whites have been harmed by a system of cultural domination is apparent in the emptiness white people sometimes feel, which he believes has to do with our lack of cultural identity, lost during our European immigrant ancestors' process of assimilating and becoming "white" in exchange for the social and economic advantages that come with being a member of that group.

"That emptiness then gets filled up by privileges and ultimately forces us to become dependent on them. We are not ourselves anymore, but the overpaid, overfed, overstuffed slaves to a self-imposed, self-chosen system of cultural genocide. I can't help but think that at the end of the day, we, too, got played" (145-146).

I recommend this book to everyone.

[Ami · Rating 5 out of 5]

I like Tim Wise's essays, so this book is a treat. He links elements of white privilege & racism to his own life throughout the book, and (I would say) very roughly in some sort of chronological order.

Wise explains that he was a national-circuit debate team member, and his persuasive style makes it clear that he must have been pretty good. I appreciated that he smashes apart white folks' most common points of resistance to white privilege in the introduction, so we can acknowledge and accept that it is the very real flip-side to racism, and get on with things. Then he takes us through a chapter about denial, and through to later chapters about resistance & loss, to talk about how white privilege can actually be harmful to white folks and what antiracism looks like. He gives historical examples of white antiracists (past Lincoln, yes!) and what antiracism can look like in the present. While I didn't agree with all of his suggestions (bring along a black friend shopping with you, so you can catch a store owner in racial profiling--except, doesn't that turn your black friend into a prop that you're using to be a white hero? Cause that sounds icky to me), it got me thinking. He gives useful examples of ways in which he has unknowingly (at the time) collaborated in racism, and how he uses that to understand that we need to keep aware, and that even though most of us are probably trying to do things that fight/don't perpetuate racism, sometimes we fail, and the best thing to do is listen to folks who call you out, think about how what they're saying might be right, and reexamine your actions (and, I would add, reexamine them APART from your intentions).

Heavy stuff, good book.

[Mitzi Moore · Rating 4 out of 5]

Tim Wise challenges us to explore our own personal history as white people to examine all the ways whiteness has benefited us. For example, if we had ancestors who fought in wars or agreed to move Westward, they may have been given land by the government (unlike Black people). Welfare, food stamps, and public housing were first meant for white families (and only demonized when Black families began to use them). By revealing his own personal story, Wise helps us find points of recognition, not with the aim of making us feel guilty, but to help us recognize the systemic injustices of White Supremacy and inspire us to dismantle it.

[Mel · Rating 4 out of 5]

I have been meaning to read this for such a long time that I think it was built up in my head in many ways that were impossible to fulfill. I didn't realize how autobiographical it would be, and at times I found my mind wandering as Wise described the nuances of various campaigns he worked on as a young activist in New Orleans and beyond. However, the weaving of his life with the thesis of this book, that his experiences are by nature, White experiences, was compelling. I consider myself fairly well versed on white privilege, I teach about it, I've read about it, but Wise has the prose to pack an emotional punch that often had me saying YES! out loud (on planes, this was embarrassing).

There are many things to take away from this book. One of the more resonating quotes for me, which I'll be putting up on my office wall, was not by Wise, but a quote from a letter he received from Archbishop Desmond Tutu: "You do not do the things you do because others will necessarily join you in the doing of them, nor because they will ultimately prove successful. You do the things you do because the things you are doing are right."

This is my mantra for teaching and social justice work. The need to hold on to outcomes is powerful, but we cannot be attached to outcomes in this kind of work. Battle fatigue and despair are so closely tied to those disappointments in the slowness of change. The sense of doing what is right is the ultimate motivator to hold one's head up high, knowing we are just doing the best we know how to do.

[m. · Rating 4 out of 5]

Tim Wise uses a good portion of this book to discuss personal history, and personal experiences, which I think make it important in terms of understanding his passion for anti-racism. That being said, I think some of the experiences he mentions which relate to everyday happenings hinge on speculation. My problem became when he used those anecdotes as truths to justify certain arguments. Tim appears to promote individual or personal challenges on racism, but feels that the stronger method is in tackling the issue of institutionalized racism. His idea that whites can attempt to challenge racism, but will always be in collaboration with the privileges received from it is also an interesting point. His thoughts seem to be geared towards a negative interpretation of that privilege, when, in fact, that privilege may be helpful to whites in promoting anti-racist ideas. Overall, good read from a unique author on the topic of race and white privilege.White Like Me Reflections on Race from a Privileged Son