Every area of my life is permeated by white supremacy, even this title

There’s a fine line between sharing my experience so others might benefit, and sharing my experience simply because I think it’s interesting. I understand from my conversations with other white people that most of my questions about racism are common questions. My intention when I write for BGIM is not to navel-gaze and say “my life is interesting!” I want to share the awkward and uncomfortable process of learning how to actively take white supremacy apart so it no longer serves as the foundation for my own life or the lives of everyone impacted by it. I am doing my always-imperfect best, and I hope my intentions match the impact as you read.


Over the last couple months, I’ve been taking a class by Lisa Graustein, a white queer woman who has been a racial and gender equity and justice trainer and facilitator for more than a decade. With the support of a grant from New England Yearly Meeting (Quakers), Lisa has been sharing resources and spiritual guidance while modeling communication styles that don’t reinforce oppression. The class is called “Racial Justice and the Beloved Community,” and we are practicing looking at how white supremacy informs almost everything we do as Quakers; most importantly, we are practicing changing our attitudes and behaviors.

To understand my part in supporting white supremacy, I’ve had to spend quite a bit of time studying the history of the social construction of race (see Nell Irvin Painter’s “The History of White People” and/or Ibram X. Kendi’s “Stamped from the Beginning”). Building on that fact-finding I look at where in my life I’m being guided by white supremacist culture. When Lisa shared this description of white supremacy culture in our class, gathered together by Tema Okun of dRworks, it nearly knocked the wind out of me. Dear readers, please take a moment to read the description of white supremacy culture.

Okun details the following qualities of white supremacy culture, summarized here: perfectionism; sense of urgency; defensiveness; quantity over quality; worship of the written word; only one right way; paternalism; either/or thinking; power hoarding; fear of open conflict; individualism; I’m the only one; progress is bigger, more; objectivity; right to comfort.

Do you recognize yourself in those terms? Do you, as I did, find yourself defensive? Thinking, sure, I can see how those qualities could be problematic, but there are lots of reasons we feel and behave this way. To say it’s “white supremacy culture” is a bit of a stretch, we might say.

But scholars and activists who have studied and lived with the oppression of white supremacy are telling those of us who benefit from the systems that those qualities are white supremacy culture. Every single quality described makes it possible to keep white supremacy alive and strong; research and evidence support this statement. This holds true for people of color as well as white people—all of us living in the United States of America are impacted by white supremacy culture.

What does this mean for us? Well, I hope you might join me in learning about the history of white supremacy in the USA, to inform your understanding of how we got here. I’d also like to invite you to notice where in your life those white supremacy culture qualities appear. Are there places or times you can try something different? Do you have people in your life with whom you can talk about these issues? Remember, white supremacy wants us to be alone—individualistic, I’m the only one—so even the act of finding others to offer mutual support can be a step toward dismantling white supremacy.

In the title for this piece, I mention that the title itself is permeated by white supremacy. In it I see my tendency to think that my own experience matters so much that it seems appropriate (as it usually does in my posts here!) to center the title of the post on me and my experience. As I said in the beginning, there’s a fine line between sharing my experience just because I find it interesting (see “white supremacy culture“) or sharing my experience—most especially sharing what I’ve learned from others—to try and benefit others. I hope what I’ve shared is beneficial. We aren’t alone in stumbling and bumbling through the lessons we need to learn. I welcome any feedback you’d like to give me.

And, I’d like to put in a plug for supporting this blog. Black Girl in Maine pays the writers on this site, doesn’t use advertising, and does this work mostly as a labor of love/survival. Please consider making a contribution—one time or (preferrably) monthly—in support of the work done here.


If this piece or this blog resonates with you, please consider a one-time “tip” or become a monthly “patron”…this space runs on love and reader support. Want more BGIM? Consider booking me to speak with your group or organization.

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There is power in anger; but who gets to be angry?

Anger. It’s an emotion that, from a young age—especially as women—we are told doesn’t have a place in our lives. Like other emotions (such as sadness, disgust, fear, and vulnerability), anger has to be shut away and shoved down. As women, we are unable to access these sides of the emotional spectrum. This affects certain aspects and people of society, but none so much as the women of Black and Brown communities. We’ve all heard of the angry black woman or spicy latina tropes we’ve see so much of in mainstream media and entertainment, even today. Both are overtly racist stereotypes used to describe women of color (WOC) and how they handle their anger or, more so, how they “fly off the handle.”

I can think of a very recent example of a WOC becoming angry in public and being attacked for it, not just monetarily but personally: Serena Williams at the 2018 U.S. Open. The referee was making some bad calls on his part, but it wasn’t that. It was the way that Williams reacted that took center stage for many people. She was upset, angry and let the ref know. She even became emotional and broke her tennis racket. So many negative things have been said about Williams’ outburst, whereas John McEnroe, retired tennis player, has been praised for being an outspoken angry man on the tennis court; he was still fined for his actions but definitely treated differently than Williams. There is a huge difference between why Williams is vilified for being angry and why McEnroe is praised for it: he’s a white man.

An angry white man is inspiring. He’s called passionate and a leader. Men are even encouraged to be angry. White women (WW) also have a way of getting away with this. Today more WW than ever are stepping up, becoming “feminists” and standing as “allies” (I use these words in quotations for a reason) and becoming angry. There is inherent privilege in being able to angrily speak out against the disproportionate systems that have been in place for so long and this privilege is mainly possessed by WW.

WW are quoted as saying that they “feel defeated” and “don’t know what to do” and “can’t believe that things like this happen” when they see a WW call the cops on black youths or when another Black person in gunned down in the streets due to police violence, or when our president sends armed troops to the border after women and children. Well, welcome to the world of Black and Brown people in this country. Things like this happen daily. And the only reason you’re in the know now is because a Black or Brown woman is letting you in on the secrets.

Moreover, these WW take platforms away from activists and feminists with black and brown skin attempting to do the same thing. WW make it all about them and forget that there is actually a WOC making the same statements. Instead of supporting the platform of a WOC, other WW support and raise up the white feminism instead of taking a backseat and being an ally or to support a WOC feminist attempting to do the same thing. WW can also be one of the main culprits when calling out WOC for speaking out. I have seen way too many Instagram posts where a WOC is calling out and attempting to dismantle a system created by white people and the whole comment thread is WW talking about how this WOC is being divisive, racist and plain old angry. This is not an anger of divisiveness. This is an anger of passion and wanting these systems to change.

I am not buying it. I am tired of using this as an excuse before I talk about the problematic relationship between white people and anger.

For years, WOC have called out racists and pointed out racial problems in the U.S. They are called divisive, angry, aggressive, hostile and a myriad of other terms. Whereas, when you have a cute, skinny, WW saying the same thing, they are praised for being “so brave and confident,” “changing the system” and—the worst one—“a hero.” And rarely are they called angry. This isn’t anything new I am talking about. White feminism has been such a pervasive entity to the plight of the WOC feminist.

I remember during my time in grad school, when I began my activist work, how hard it was for me to be taken seriously as a Latinx feminist and how angry I was because of it. And how hard it was for me to find feminist views that aligned with mine. I was always given white feminists to read and look up to and it all just…fell short for me. There was never any fire or passion seen in the writings of white feminists. Never any anger, no rage. I could never seem to find a voice that suited mine until I read Living a Feminist Life by Sara Ahmed.

She was the first woman that I read that I could relate with. She talked about growing up half Pakistani/half English and how that had a profound impact on her life. She spoke about being so angry. Then I started to see myself more, researching the works of Aurora Levins Morales and Dolores Huerta. Then I found the others, who gave not only a voice to me but to Black women: Roxane Gay, bell hooks, Audre Lorde—to only name a few of the heavy hitters.

These WOC rounded out my universe, not the universe of the white feminist that had been fed to me for the two years I was in grad school. I know, I know, some think it might be as simple as googling “latina feminist” or something to that effect. But even bringing up such issues I experienced in my life as a Latinx woman, I was repeatedly shut down and explained to by WW that since they have never experienced the same things I had in my life that therefore it must not exist! Even some white men got into the conversation, explaining to me that I was playing into the Latina stereotype by being loud and outspoken and that maybe I should soften my image to get others to listen to what I have to say. As you probably guessed, that only made me angrier.

I am angry. I have been angry for a long time. I am not only angry at these backwards systems that keep people of color in check, but also at the WW who can’t seem to take a back seat and let the WOC lead. I am angry at the white people who call cops on black youths, angry at this systematic racism I’ve seen for years and see daily from our president and others he has gaslighted to lock up immigrants I am angry because when I show my anger, it’s met with disdain.

I believe there is power in being angry. The rage the culminates within can make great change happen. Anger and rage can be one of the most important resources we possess as WOC. This anger is not only justified, but can be a part of the solution. It can be harnessed to facilitate change and give you that slow, low burn to ignite passions. I like being angry as long as the anger is fueled into the solutions. Anger should be a part of a WOC toolkit for fighting against systematic racism, and we should not be made to feel bad about it. It’s an honest and vulnerable emotion, letting you and others around us know how we truly feel and that we’re sick of the systems in place. This rage isn’t about hate. It’s about change. It’s about being sick of the systems that have been set in place for so long.


If this piece or this blog resonates with you, please consider a one-time “tip” or become a monthly “patron”…this space runs on love and reader support. Want more BGIM? Consider booking me to speak with your group or organization.

Comments will close on this post in 60-90 days; earlier if there are spam attacks or other nonsense.

Treating the cancer of racism

Despite two years of teeth gnashing, soul searching and disbelief, American white people are still grappling with race and how racism is embedded into the DNA of America.

Recently, America’s favorite progressive politician, Bernie Sanders, played with the truth in a recent piece in the Daily Beast, where in the aftermath of the recent midterm elections he admitted that many white people have a hard time voting for Black politicians. I think you know there are a lot of white folks out there who are not necessarily racist who felt uncomfortable for the first time in their lives about whether or not they wanted to vote for an African-American,” Sanders told The Daily Beast, referencing the close contests involving Andrew Gillum in Florida and Stacey Abrams in Georgia and ads run against the two. “I think next time around, by the way, it will be a lot easier for them to do that.”

Like I said, Bernie played with the truth. See, it’s true that white people struggle to vote for Black politicians, but the reasons that they struggle are deeply rooted in the fact that they don’t see Black people as their equals. They are fully indoctrinated in the myth of white superiority.  To be fair, it is the myth that white people were born into and unless one is intentional in challenging it, it lives deep inside of you. It’s why even in anti-racism spaces, racial tensions flare up.

In short, they are racist, Bernie. But because white people have realized that being openly racist is not socially acceptable, most of them keep it undercover or don’t discuss it openly nor self-examine their motivations. They stick to polite racism for the most part. And, in the end, they only see racists as those who openly use racial slurs, burn crosses, carry tiki torches in alt-right marches or who openly antagonize and denigrate Black women like a certain orange guy living in a white house.

The average white person is seemingly ignorant of the fact that they they can be nice people, they can have Black or other POC in their lives and can still be racist. They remain ignorant that many of the preferences they hold (starting with the desire often live in “good” neighborhoods with “good” schools) are based on having few or no non-white people around. That they lessen Black and of POC routinely in their worldviews as a result of the white superiority indoctrination process.

Even when well-meaning white people want to do better, it still becomes a process that leaves non-white people out in the cold as the struggle to move beyond whiteness literally sucks all the air out of the room. It’s one of the reasons that talking heads in this era of hate insist on civility and hearing both sides.

That type of equivocation allows people to avoid looking too closely in the mirror and questioning themselves and maybe even facing the uncomfortable reality that they too may hold truly racist thoughts.  

Racism is a cancer that robs people of their life and liberty and yet we don’t treat it like the cancer that it is. Imagine going to the doctor, complaining of a host of ailments, only to receive a diagnosis of cancer and then deciding to forego treatment that could either save your life or at least create a better quality of life and extend it. Of course you would do it; when cancer does knock on our doors we do everything we can to live.

Yet when the cancer of racism makes itself known, we do everything to avoid treatment because it’s uncomfortable. Last time I checked, traditional cancer treatments are hardly a walk in the park, but very few willingly choose to avoid them.

In recent weeks in particular, America’s past sins have collided with our present reality and made it clear that hate is and was a foundational building block in this country. The only way that we can shift from our current course is to actually move to action. That action starts with the personal work that must be done to decolonize one’s mind and then extends to looking at what systems you can disrupt. It also will require a shifting of resources and requires white people to give up something, whether that is time, money, advancement opportunities, etc. This work requires losses for white people on multiple levels; one cannot continue to monopolize the power, money and opportunities and also create an equitable society. White people don’t have to become “losers” in the process of bringing about racial justice but they need to accept that they have too much in this society in terms of access, privilege and consideration. If you really want justice and equality and equity, you can’t sit in the warm embrace of whiteness, reading and staying in your head with the idea of fighting against racism. It requires action. And right now would be a great time to take action.

Study up, roll up those sleeves and slip on the gloves, and go after those tumors of white supremacy.


If this piece or this blog resonates with you, please consider a one-time “tip” or become a monthly “patron”…this space runs on love and reader support. Want more BGIM? Consider booking me to speak with your group or organization.

Comments will close on this post in 60-90 days; earlier if there are spam attacks or other nonsense.

Image by Piron Guillaume via Unsplash