+
“A balm for the soul”
  review on Goodreads
GOOD PEOPLE Book
upworthy

white privilege

It is safe to say that the wise words of Muhammad Ali stands the test of time. Widely considered to be the greatest heavyweight boxer the world has ever seen, the legacy of Ali extends far beyond his pugilistic endeavors. Throughout his career, he spoke out about racial issues and injustices. The brash Mohammed Ali (or who we once knew as Cassius Clay) was always on point with his charismatic rhetoric— despite being considered arrogant at times. Even so, he had a perspective that was difficult to argue with.

As a massive boxing fan—and a huge Ali fan—I have never seen him more calm and to the point then in this recently posted BBC video from 1971. Although Ali died in 2016, at 74 years old, his courage inside and outside the ring is legendary. In this excerpt, Ali explained to Michael Parkinson about how he used to ask his mother about white representation. Even though the interview is nearly 50 years old, it shows exactly how far we need to come as a country on the issues of racial inclusion and equality.



In this interview, Ali remembered posing the questionto his mother: "Why is everything white?" He recalled being curious about Jesus being white. He pontificated as to why all angels were white—why Angel food cake is white while Devils-food cake's the chocolate dessert. He talked about all the products of his time that were labeled "white" like White Swan soap, King White soap and White Cloud tissue paper. Oh, and where does the president live? The White House.

He goes further into why all the celebrated models of the world are white and how beauty is only seen on white women. Miss World and Universe are always white—but why? He knows that women in America have all different types of complexions, shapes and sizes. Why not embrace it? They aren't all Barbie. He goes into Snow White, Santa Claus—noting that everything we view as "great" in this country is—you guessed it—white. In classic Ali style, he rhymes, "Everything bad is Black. The Little Ugly Duckling was the Black duck. And the Black cat was the bad luck. And if I threaten you, I'm gonna blackmail you. I said, 'Mama, why don't they call it 'whitemail?'' They lie too." It's hilarious but sadly true. It wouldn't shock me if Ali made the entire speech on the spot. He's brilliant.

The highlight of the interview has to be when he discusses Tarzan. Ali makes you think: how is it that Tarzan, a white man, is the king of the jungle in Africa? How can he talk to the animals but none of the Black men—who have lived there for centuries—are able to communicate with them?

Ali makes you realize that our country is completely whitewashed and always has been. He hammers home the idea that something is terribly wrong with our society. I can go on about how impactful he is. But, honestly, it would be like writing the lyrics to a Tina Turner song without listening to her music. You just have to experience Ali for yourself. Trust me, it's worth it.


Some people don't view Pittsburgh's Stephen Foster statue as racist. Those people would be wrong.

Yeah, I'm going there. Stay with me.

The statue, which depicts a borderline caricature of a black musician in tattered clothing playing the banjo at the feet of a regal, well-dressed Stephen Collins Foster — who is often touted as the Father of American Music — will soon be relocated. The city has plans to install in its place a statue of a black woman significant to Pittsburgh's history.


[rebelmouse-image 19346757 dam="1" original_size="685x1024" caption="Image via Wally Gobetz/Flickr." expand=1]Image via Wally Gobetz/Flickr.

The Foster statue has been a subject of debate in the city for decades. Damon Young, the co-founder of Very Smart Brothas, has called it "the most racist statue in America," with the depiction of the black musician as "the most ridiculous magical Negro you'll ever see."

Welp.

The issue with the statue is partially how it looks but mostly what it represents.

The statue was originally commissioned in 1900 by a local newspaper that envisioned Foster "catching the inspiration for his melodies from the fingers of an old darkey reclining at his feet strumming negro airs upon an old banjo."

Basically what we're looking at is a white man during the slavery era taking the "inspiration" of a poor black person's music and not only profiting from it but becoming the country's foremost music composer because of it.

If you ever wonder what "privilege" and "appropriation" mean, this statue primely illustrates both.

The appropriation of black people's music has a long, painful history in America.

[rebelmouse-image 19346758 dam="1" original_size="1024x1173" caption="Frederick Douglass. Image via J.C. Buttre/Wikimedia Commons." expand=1]Frederick Douglass. Image via J.C. Buttre/Wikimedia Commons.

Last year, I read "Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass" for the first time. The whole book is a must-read for all Americans, but the chapter about slaves singing absolutely gutted me. It also gave me a deeper understanding of why appropriating the music of black Americans is such a long-standing and problematic issue. Douglass wrote of slave songs:

"Every tone was a testimony against slavery, and a prayer to God for deliverance from chains ... The mere recurrence to those songs, even now, afflicts me; and while I am writing these lines, an expression of feeling has already found its way down my cheek. To those songs I trace my first glimmering conception of the dehumanizing character of slavery. I can never get rid of that conception."

Douglass described the tendency of people — particularly the supposedly more enlightened northerners — to misconstrue the nature of black people's singing:

"I have often been utterly astonished, since I came to the north, to find persons who could speak of the singing, among slaves, as evidence of their contentment and happiness. It is impossible to conceive of a greater mistake. Slaves sing most when they are most unhappy. The songs of the slave represent the sorrows of his heart; and he is relieved by them, only as an aching heart is relieved by its tears ... I have often sung to drown my sorrow, but seldom to express my happiness."

Douglass' narrative was published in 1845, two decades before slavery ended and about the same time Foster began writing his famous songs. If Foster was really feeling inspired from black people "strumming negro airs," then he was profiting from black Americans' artistic expression of pain at a time when they couldn't do so themselves.

[rebelmouse-image 19346759 dam="1" original_size="342x470" caption="American composer Stephen Foster. Photo via Library of Congress/Wikimedia Commons." expand=1]American composer Stephen Foster. Photo via Library of Congress/Wikimedia Commons.

Some claim Foster was a fairly decent guy for his time, seeking to humanize slaves and not glorify the antebellum South in his songs. On the other hand, he was knee-deep in the blackface minstrel phenomenon, and some of his lyrics are racially charged to say the least.

"But that was a different era!" people might say. Yes, it was. But in this era, it makes sense to move that statue to a place where it doesn't serve as a painful public reminder of our country's history of racial injustice.

The question we should ask is "What is the purpose of a public statue?"

Unlike art for private consumption and enjoyment, a public statue traditionally honors someone or something. It's a way to memorialize a person or an event — to say "We want to not only remember this person's place in history but commemorate them."

Statues are not, as many seem to argue, a history lesson. There are no statues of Adolf Hitler in Germany for a reason, and it's not because the German people intend to forget his part in history. It's irresponsible to keep a statue that depicts an ugly aspect of history in a way that doesn't make clear how ugly it was.

A bust of Adolf Hitler sits among the ruins of the Chancellery, Berlin, 1945. Photo by Reg Speller/Getty Images.

Foster already has an entire memorial museum in Pittsburgh, so replacing this statue will not affect his legacy there. What it will do is remove a visual glorification of black people's oppression as well as open up a space to honor a black woman who has been significant to history.

The mayor has asked the public to weigh in on which black woman should be honored with a new statue.

There are no public statues or memorials honoring black women in Pittsburgh, a city where an estimated 1 in 5 residents is black. "The City of Pittsburgh believes in inclusivity and equality and ensuring that all can see themselves in the art around them," the mayor's office wrote in a statement. "It is imperative then that our public art reflect the diversity of our city and that we accordingly represent our diverse heroes."

Some suggestions so far include pianist Patricia Prattis Jennings, the first black woman to sign to a full contract with a major American symphony orchestra; Helen Faison, the first black female superintendent in Pittsburgh; Gwendolyn J. Elliot, Pittburgh's first black female police commander; suffragette Daisy Elizabeth Lampkin, who was the first woman elected to the national board of the NAACP; and Hazel B. Garland, the first black woman to head a major newspaper chain.

For many in Pittsburgh, the removal of the Stephen Foster statue would have been enough. But replacing the statue with one honoring a black woman is a thoughtful step forward — one that other cities with controversial statues would be wise to follow.

Students needed to learn about racism in American society long before I started teaching a course on it.

I chose to title my course "White Racism" because I thought it was scholarly and succinct, precise and powerful.

Others saw it differently.


Many white Americans (and even some people of color) became upset when they learned about this course. Thousands took to social media and far-right news sites and racist blogs to attack the course and me personally. Some 150 of these individuals even sent me hateful and threatening messages.

It's tempting to blame the hostility to my course on today's political climate — one in which the president of the United States can routinely make overtly racist statements and receive some of his strongest support from members of white, racist hate groups.

But the reality is that scholarly critiques of white supremacy in the U.S. have always been met with scorn. That doesn't make the topic any less true, any less important, or any less necessary to teach.

White racism isn't an opinion. It's a historical and contemporary truth, supported by evidence, that's been taught for decades.

I’ve taught courses on racial stratification in the U.S. for nearly a decade myself. The course, and others like it, are all anchored in a damning body of historical and contemporary evidence — evidence that shows that Europeans and their white descendants colonized what would become the United States, as well as other places around the globe.

They practiced all manner of inhumanity against non-whites. This has included genocide, slavery, murder, rape, torture, theft, chicanery, segregation, discrimination, intimidation, internment, humiliation, and marginalization.

This is inarguable. But that's not where the opposition to my course lies.

In reality, most Americans have a general understanding of our nation's history of abuse toward African-Americans. The transatlantic slave trade, Jim Crow laws, lynchings, housing and labor market discrimination, police brutality — these are all concepts with which most are familiar.

What many disagree with is the impact of those practices on people's lives and opportunities today. Many argue for what I (and many others) call the myth of a "colorblind society."

The myth of the colorblind society holds that the U.S. is a "post-racial" society where race no longer impacts individuals' opportunities in life.

It's a belief that erases the daily realities that demonstrate the this country is white supremacist in nature.

But the myth of a colorblind society crumbles underneath a substantial body of research that shows how race still matters in many areas of American life. Evidence shows that race still matters in the labor market and workplace, education, and even in access to clean water. Race matters in health care, the criminal justice system, and even everyday retail and dining experiences.

Still, many refuse to believe that racism persists. They point to the civil rights legislation of the 1960s or, more recently, the election of Barack Obama as the 44th president of the United States, as evidence of the "end" of racism, or at least race's "declining significance."

The point of my course is to disabuse my students of those beliefs, guiding them toward a more accurate understanding of racial matters in our country.

But wait a second. Can't anyone be racist?

The most common complaint that I’ve encountered thus far is that anybody can be racist, not just white people. They ask indignantly: What about "reverse racism"? Or what about other forms of racism they believe exist on the part of Latinos, Asian-Americans, and Native American peoples?

My answer is: Folks of color can be prejudiced and biased, but there is no such thing, for example, as "black racism."

Eduardo Bonilla-Silva, president of the American Sociological Association, put it well when asked if it would be fair to have classes such as "Asian Racism" or "Latino Racism."

He said, "We can all be prejudiced, yeah? So, black people can be anti-white, but there is a big difference between having prejudiced views about other people and having a system that gives systemic privilege to some groups."

That's the bottom line: Black people did not develop and benefit from a centuries-old comprehensive system of racial oppression comprised of laws, policies, practices, traditions, and an accompanying ideology — one that promotes the biological, intellectual and cultural superiority of whites to dominate other groups. Europeans and their white descendants did.

This is systemic racism. And students in courses such as mine are introduced to the scholarship that attests to this reality, past and present.

My course may be an elective, but the effects of white racism in society are not.

A common criticism I’ve heard is that I'm teaching a course titled "White Racism" at a public university at taxpayer expense.

Not only should my course and others like it be taught at public colleges and universities, they must be taught at such institutions. It is in the public interest that students be provided with not only an opportunity to learn about the origin, logic, and consequences of white racial domination but also how to challenge and dismantle it. The public university classroom is among the best places for this to occur.

The president of Florida Gulf Coast University, Michael Martin, has strongly and publicly supported the inclusion of my "White Racism" class in the university's course offerings.

"Reviewing the course content is much more instructive than passing judgment based on a two-word title," he said in a statement. "At FGCU, as at all great universities, we teach our students critical thinking skills by challenging them to think independently and critically about important, even if controversial, issues of our times."

Hopefully someday, the rest of society will learn to do the same.

This piece was originally published by The Conversation and is reprinted here with permission.

<img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/90093/count.gif?distributor=republish-lightbox-advanced" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />

Most Shared

Spurs coach Gregg Popovich takes on Trump and racism in a powerful speech.

It's time we had some difficult conversations as a country.

San Antonio Spurs head coach Gregg Popovich has a bone to pick with President Donald Trump's attitude toward politics and sports.

An outspoken critic of Trump, the five-time NBA champion coach laid into the president during a press conference on Monday, critiquing his "childishness" and "gratuitous fear-mongering." This came after a weekend in which Trump uninvited the NBA champion Golden State Warriors from the White House and raged against NFL players protesting police violence.

"Our country is an embarrassment to the world," Popovich added, referencing Trump's antics during his first months in office.


Popovich didn't stop there.

He brought the conversation back around to the real topic at hand: race and racism in America.

"Obviously, race is the elephant in the room, and we all understand that," he said, shrugging off the idea that if we simply stop talking about racism that it'll somehow just go away.

"There has to be an uncomfortable element in the discourse for anything to change, whether it's the LGBT community or women's suffrage, race, it doesn't matter," he said. "People have to be made to feel uncomfortable and especially white people because we're comfortable."

"We still have no clue of what being born white means," he said.

Using a (what else?) sports metaphor, Popovich explained that being born white is like having a head start during a 100-meter dash. While there's no guarantee the head start means you'll win the race and while your hard work you put into training for the run shouldn't be discounted, it's still a head start. There shouldn't be any harm in acknowledging the advantage you were given.

"[White people] have advantages that are systemically, culturally, psychologically there," he explained. "And they have been built up and cemented for hundreds of years. But many people can't look at it, it's too difficult. It can't be something that is on their plate on a daily basis. People want to hold their position, people want the status quo, people don't want to give that up. Until it's given up, it's not going to be fixed."

Popovich's metaphor is a spot-on example of what exactly the oft misunderstood phrase "white privilege" means.

Replying to Sports Illustrated's tweet about Popovich's comments, one person remarked, "Hey Pop, where do I cash my 'congrats on being white' check? Don't think that came with my birth certificate, I must've gotten ripped off." The tweet was a classic example of what happens when white people are asked to consider their position and what their whiteness means in the world.

Poet Remi Kanazi responded brilliantly: "You cash it whenever you're pulled over by a cop, in a store not being followed, at an interview for a job, or trying to get an apartment."

No person should have to worry about being shot by the police, treated with suspicion, or discriminated against in the workplace because of the color of their skin. Right now, in America, white people don't have to worry about that. Non-white people do. The goal in the fight for racial justice isn't to bring privileged groups down, but to lift oppressed groups up. It's about finding the same starting line in the metaphorical 100-meter dash.

Watch Popovich's comments on race below: