Why self-declarations and niceness are inadequate responses to white-body supremacy
KEY POINTS
- There is no such thing as wokeness
- Performances cannot and should not replace maturity
- Don’t try to get others to think well of you. Instead, act well.
Suppose you have a white body. At your request, I agree to meet you for lunch and conversation at a convenient restaurant.
Soon after we sit down, I begin telling you about the many white friends I have. I mention that my brother is married to a white woman, and I laud the comedic talents of Bull Burr, Patton Oswalt, Tina Fey, and Paula Poundstone.
When the server comes to take our order, I ask for a roast beef sandwich with mayonnaise and tell him, with a big smile, “I love mayo—but I can’t eat a lot of it. It’s just too spicy for me.” After he leaves, I lean forward and say to you, “Man, those shoulder-length blonde locks of his are amazing, aren’t they? I almost asked if I could touch them, but I know better.”
At what point in my monologue did you begin to question my authenticity? At what point did you sense that I was performing or pandering? At what point did you begin to wonder what was wrong with me? Did you begin to give up on ever getting to know the real Resmaa?
If you’re a progressive with a white body, do the moves I made seem familiar? They should, because white progressives make similar moves with me—and other bodies of culture—all the time. They trot out their racial resumes, ostensibly to let me know that they’re on my side—that they’re my ally, that they’re woke, that they’re not racist, and that I can trust them. Sometimes they literally say the words “I’m an ally” or “I’m not a racist.”
But I’m not stupid. I know a performance when I see one. I can also sense who the performance is for—and it isn’t me. It’s for the performer. They’re demonstrating to themselves what a good, non-racist, well-intentioned white person they are. It’s a distant cousin of obsessive name dropping—and a form of magical thinking and equally magical self-talk.
Here is what these orations communicate to me—and to other bodies of culture:
You experienced energetic guilt, a fear of being called out, and an urge to protect your self-image. You’re unwilling to interrogate and heal your racialized trauma, which was passed down to you by your ancestors and which is reinforced by structures that advantage you. Because of your unwillingness, you reflexively flipped into fawning—a type of trauma response. Now you can’t stop yourself from telling me a story about what a decent, socially aligned, trustworthy, body-of-culture-respecting white person you are. You have little or no racial acuity, agility, or grit, but you still want my acceptance and approval—and the tacit agreement that I won’t call you out or hold you accountable.
This is a form of projected power, dirty pain, and immaturity on display. Reread the above paragraph and see it you can notice the embedded immaturity.
If you have a white body, please don’t tell me—or any other body of culture—that you’re their ally. Everything else aside, no one will believe you. If a stranger (or a distant acquaintance) walks up to you and announces, “I’m your friend!” your first thought will probably be “No, you’re not.”
No sane adult automatically believes what other people declare about themselves. (In fact, there’s a name for the folks who do: suckers.) Any adult body of culture—indeed, any grownup of any skin tone—will judge your trustworthiness and commitment by your actions, not your declarations of being independent of other white folks and free of white-body supremacy (or WBS).
I can’t tell you how many racial resumes I have watched white bodies perform. I can tell you that each performance is painful to watch. And boring. And exhausting. And, sometimes, pathetic. And very difficult to deal with.
With many white progressives, almost anything I say or do in response to their performance will be counterproductive. Giving them a frown or a stern look may cause them to extend their performance (“My best friend in high school was Black,” etc.). If I just hold up my hands and say, “Come on, man—enough,” they may ask for—and expect—an extended lesson in what they did wrong and how to become more woke, as if I’m suddenly their unpaid private tutor. They might start to cry.
To all white progressives reading this post, please listen carefully: When you try to tell me that you’re woke, or an ally, or not a racist, you actually communicate the opposite. You show me that I cannot, should not, and dare not trust you. You show me that you care more about your own self-image than you do about me. You show me that I cannot have an authentic relationship with you. And you show me that you think of me first and foremost not as Resmaa, but as a Black body.
So, if you have a white body, and you notice that you’re starting to perform your own racial resume, immediately pause. Stop talking. Stay a second or two in silence. Then smile and say, “Scratch that.”
Then take the focus off yourself. Begin to have an actual conversation. Be curious about the other person or people. Ask them some questions about themselves.
This doesn’t just apply to interactions with bodies of culture. Put white progressives together and they’ll sometimes perform their racial resumes for each other, trying to impress one another with their wokeness. Sometimes they’ll try to out-woke each other. If you catch yourself doing this, stop. Please.
We human beings need to trust one another in order to create a living, embodied, intergenerational, antiracist culture. But there’s a reason why we don’t walk around carrying signs that say “I’m not a pedophile,” “I’m not a thief,” “I promise I won’t murder you,” “I’m a virgin,” or, for that matter, “I’m not a virgin.” We don’t decide whom to trust based on signage, proclamations, or performances. We watch how someone interacts with other human beings, and then we apply our discernment. Think of the many aphorisms that speak to this, such as “Don’t trust anyone who is nice to you but rude to servers and baristas.”
So, if you have a white body and want to be an ally, or woke, pause. Right now. Seriously. Pause again.
There is no such thing as an ally. There is no such thing as wokeness. Really. They’re both bullsh*t—and both irrelevant and play into white comfort. There is growth, and there is maturity, and many white progressives get these confused with wokeness.
Here are some things that are real: acting from the best parts of yourself. Holding onto yourself when you experience pressure and heat. Letting yourself stay with clean pain. Metabolizing trauma. Healing. Using your discernment. Acting with wisdom and compassion. Treating other human beings as human beings. Relating with other people instead of performing in front of them.
Don’t try to get me—or anyone—to think well of you. Instead, act well. Not act as in perform for an audience, but as in bring the best of yourself to each moment, and make mistakes, and cultivate repair.
If you consistently act well, you won’t need to chase after anyone’s trust and respect. You’ll have naturally earned them.
Body Practice: From Dodging to Inviting
Think of a racialized situation, conflict, or problem that you’ve been avoiding. If more than one comes to mind, pick any one you like.
Now imagine that you can no longer avoid this problem or situation. Assume that you must deal with it right now, in this very moment.
Explore what you experience in your body. Note any:
- Vibrations
- Images and thoughts
- Meanings, judgments, stories, and explanations
- Behaviors, movements, actions, impulses, and urges
- Affect and emotions
- Sensations
Take a few deep, slow breaths. Spend the next minute or two grounding and orienting your body.
Now, make a simple plan to address the actual situation or problem—and decide when you will execute this plan. This should be soon. Then, when the time comes, do it.
Practice this process at least once every month, each time with a new situation, problem, or conflict—whether racialized or otherwise. It can help you build your discernment and tolerance for clean pain. It may also improve the overall quality of your life—and of the lives of others around you.
Even if an immediate outcome is uncomfortable, you will have added to your body’s tempering and conditioning.
This blog entry is adapted from my new book, The Quaking of America: An Embodied Guide to Navigating Our Nation’s Upheaval and Racial Reckoning, to be published in April 2022 by Central Recovery Press: https://bookshop.org/books/the-quaking-of-america-an-embodied-guide-to-navigating-our-nation-s-upheaval-and-racial-reckoning/9781949481747.