Racism's Big Picture

Animus and Systemic Racism

The current hand wringing and head scratching in this country over the definition of “racism,” most particularly in terms of personal beliefs and behaviors, is a rather curious phenomenon. It is curious not because it is an odd topic for discussion –  we Americans have long needed to discuss what racism is, how it is expressed, why it is both “natural” and naturally harmful, as well as what we can do to eradicate it. It is curious because defining racism is actually not all that hard. Nor, quite frankly, is it hard to recognize where it is found and how it expresses itself.  The recent death of Toni Morrison, an American writer of unparalleled force and dignity, whose work consistently shed light on the costs and consequences of racism, might well occasion such a long overdue discussion of racism in America.

What we usually mean by “racism” is simply “personal animus,” dislike of another person due to that person’s racial differences: skin color, facial features, language, social behaviors and habits, religion or religious expression, and so forth. There are a lot of things that can be considered to be race characteristics, even things that have nothing to do with race per se. Personal animus is usually considered in terms of one to one. Consequently, if I personally don’t “dislike” a person as an individual based on these racial features, then I would likely conclude that I am not racist. This is where the President and his apologists appear to be coming from. So if we ask the question, “Is the President a racist?” we will have to rely on what he claims. This action is problematic, of course, because we can’t see his thoughts and because his commentary is often disconnected from what we traditionally regard as factual reality.  As regards the issue of his personal animus, we just can’t tell from the outside.

 

 

If that were all racism involved, our discussion would end there, with what in boxing is called a “split decision.” But there is, in fact, more to it. Racism is more than just a one to one issue. There is, for example, systemic racism or institutional racism, in which “well-meaning” and “law abiding” people, even people without specific personal animus, behave in ways that support prejudicial behaviors. This is likely to happen between groups, as we see with issues of the disagreement over the border wall. No one has suggested the United States build a border wall along the Atlantic seaboard to keep out unwanted immigrants from Europe. Beyond the obvious fact that such a wall is not practical, we really have no need or desire to keep out Europeans. In fact, the idea should strike us as absurd. Notably we are talking in this instance about white people, like many of us.  If those same people were struggling to cross the southern border in order to flee persecution, that is, if white Europeans were at the southern border we would be having a different conversation over the border wall than we have had during the last three (plus) years. We are not likely to experience either the heated rhetoric or the pumped-up anxieties. We would, in fact, take an entirely different approach to the problem.

Systemic racism also appears in language habits and in the use of symbols. When I was a child in the 1950s, what we call the “n word” was generally understood to be impolite if not problematic – not that the northern white communities that I grew up in understood its harsh ramifications. My family did not use the word because my parents, to their credit, regarded it as disrespectful. But others people did use it both as a descriptive term and as an epithet. Part of our education as a culture and as a society since that time has involved the general removal of this term from pervasive, common use. I am noting here a reduction in use of the term, not, sadly, its eradication. Nevertheless, our success at limiting use of the “n” word would suggest that we white Americans can improve our behavior with regard to race – if we are sufficiently motivated.

Widespread condemnation of the “n word” leads me to another point with a bearing on the wider issues of systemic racism – the use of symbolic and coded language. There are many examples available, but “law and order” will serve. At face value, that is to say, literally speaking, why wouldn’t we all be in favor of “law and order”? We all want or at least benefit from stability and consistency, which is one primary meaning of the term. Additionally, the phrase also suggests an unquestionable legitimacy, a reliable system of knowns. “Of course,” we would say, “I am a law and order kind of person.” 

But once we scratch the surface of “law and order” to see what it signifies practically or historically we discover that “law and order” has been used as code language for an often punitive application of policing, as well as rationale for control by various “authorities.” From this starting point, historically speaking, we discover that the law and order position is used to preserve the status quo, whatever that might be at any particular moment in history. We also discover that the application of law and order, given this starting point, comes down most frequently and most heavily on minorities, on the poor, on the powerless and the unconventional.

To put it differently, the experience of most African Americans with regard to law and order is enormously different from the experience of middle class and affluent whites. Often, the difference is significant enough that we might think the term had two quite distinct literal meanings. It does. But, then, that is the nature of systemic racism, isn’t it.

Or, if you will, consider the “black lives matter” slogan that has become ubiquitous in recent weeks. There were two prominent reactions to this movement. Some have called the BLM folks "terrorist," which, of course, is neither true nor reasonable. Others, especially in the white community, have countered with the more generous slogan, “ALL lives matter.” The only reasonable response to “All lives matter” is affirmation: “Of course, all lives matter!” 

 Unfortunately, that is not the point. The point is that in our country, white lives DO matter because the system works fairly consistently in favor of whites. White lives are already affirmed by the system. When was the last time you read about or saw on the news cops shooting a white person who had been stopped for a broken tail light? or cops gang tackling and squeezing the life out of a white person passing a bogus $20 bill or for selling cigarettes on the street?

But in the same system, black lives are cheap. Black folks are far less valuable if we are to judge from how often minor encounters between police and black males especially end in death. In that context, then, insisting that “all lives matter” effectively hides the egregious excesses of the current law-and-order system of policing in America. Insisting that “black lives” have value, significance, meaning clearly is the corrective our system needs.

 

    While we are pondering how this particular response to “black lives matter” sheds light on “all lives matter,” let’s consider one more implication of “all lives matter.” Since “all lives matter” is a natural and often immediate response of white folks who would describe themselves as “conservative” and “conservatively Christian,” how is it that our (yes, I am white too) concern for “all lives” has serious limits? We value the lives of folks living in our communities, but find ourselves reluctant to extend that valuing to the mostly brown folks who have streamed to our borders looking for sanctuary from oppression, brutality, poverty, and death in the countries they fled?  Do those lives matter? Clearly they don’t matter much to us, but do they matter to God? Are they included in Christ’s mandate that specifies “the least of these”? What if they are just looking for “opportunity” for their children? Is that reason enough to set out on thousand mile treks to our border?

 

There are almost too many examples of how this strand of systemic racism works to fit into our conversation. We value the lives (and, significantly, the property) of folks in white neighborhoods but not of the black jogger or the black teenager in a hoody using these streets to get home?

I am not suggesting there are easy answers to questions like these. But I hope the links I have sketched demonstrate in some important way, that “systemic racism” is real, it is deep, it is deeply entrenched in all our systems, and it needs to be addressed for what it is.  The arrogant killing of George Floyd – and others of his or ANY color – is only the most obvious fruit of a system built on racist assumptions and practices and institutions that we continue to benefit from, whether we think we are racist or not.