Whiteness Cannot Be Denied
T Montes, Program Coordinator
There are often times — in workshops and in personal relationships — where someone’s whiteness is called in for its violence and harm. Too often, there are responses and defenses that have nothing to do with whiteness itself: “But my family is from [insert non-European country],” “As a queer person, I experience discrimination based on my gender/sexuality…” or responses about other parts of a person’s identity. In some cases, there are responses that are purely defensive, lacking understanding of the violence whiteness carries. Regardless of how our identities intersect, the reality remains: race is the most powerful indicator of how we move in the world. This includes how we access necessary resources; moreover, race affects how those resources, institutions, and individuals treat us. All other identities pale in comparison.
First and foremost, let’s define whiteness. Whiteness is exactly what it sounds like: it is the whiteness of your skin. It is the lack of melanin in your skin. Even if your ethnicity is rooted in a historically marginalized culture, the whiteness in your skin tone has the upper hand in every space you enter.
Even when whiteness is layered with queerness, gender variance, poverty, immigrant status, or a marginalized ethnic identity, whiteness cannot be denied. You cannot claim marginalization in other, non-race identities as a pillow to soften the blow of your whiteness’ violence. Whiteness speaks in spaces before you get a chance to; and that’s it’s impossible to negate whiteness with other identities. You cannot deny whiteness.
Omi and Winant (2014) argue that race is a “master category,” implying that race is a socio-political identifier that enacts violence and harm unto individuals before other social indicators like gender and class do. Understanding race as a master category means understanding race as an identity ungrounded in heritage, family history, or culture.
Race is a social construction used by people in power to emulate truth. Race — and therefore racism — is based entirely on your appearance and what you look like. If you were to stop reading this blog right now and go to the nearest mirror, you’d be able to encapsulate all of your racial identity just by looking at your appearance in the reflection. Race — and therefore racism — is not based on where your parents were born, not based on what cultures and traditions you participate in, and not based on what languages you speak. Race is what you see in the mirror. Race is what strangers see when you walk into a room. (Be on the lookout for our next blog — we’ll be taking a deep dive into the differences between race and ethnicity!)
Your whiteness is what shows up first and foremost in all of your interactions. This automatically gives you power where darker-skinned individuals don’t have any. Simultaneously, your oppression in your marginalized identities is still true. The violence you face by being trans, queer, immigrant, etc. is still real — and, your whiteness still holds boundless privilege. These are both truths that can exist within the same breath. Despite nuance in identity, race continues to lead our human experiences. It begins the conversation; and it often ends it too.
If race is the most influential socio-political indicator and whiteness is the privileged identity within race, then whiteness has the most systemic power in the systems we currently live. In institutions and systems that are inherently racist, your whiteness will always be heard — despite your ethnic background, gender identity, sexual identity, or socioeconomic status.
This is why your whiteness is always subject to being checked. In every room whiteness exists — no matter your previous knowledge on anti-racist practices, no matter your ethnicity, no matter what other marginalization you encounter — whiteness will prevail. White supremacy is not the elephant in the room, it is the room itself. When your whiteness is called in by Black, Indigenous, and other people of color, your role is to listen. Emotional reactions to your whiteness are for you to hold and for you to process. Holding space for your white defensiveness is the work of anti-racism. If you are sitting in DEI spaces and not actively doing heavy, personal work to undo rhythms of white supremacy layered into the way you get ready for bed to the way you brush your teeth, you are not doing the work of anti-racism. To disrupt power, you must act consistently, act proactively, and act now.
