Racism and Godwin's Law

The anecdote, to begin with:

“Then why did you vote no to condemn racism?” constituent Jamie Carter asked, referring to Stewart’s vote against condemning President Donald Trump’s remarks about four minority congresswomen.

“By your question, you’re implying I’m a racist,” Stewart replied.

“She did not!” people in the audience shouted back.

“Could we all agree that racism is wrong and should be condemned?” Stewart asked, trying to calm the crowd. “Could we all agree that violence regardless of the reason should always be condemned?”

Stewart is cleverly invoking Godwin's Law there; if you call me a racist, you mean to stop the conversation and leave me damned.  Which is not at all what Carter said, but it's a neat dodge.  It also worked, because the crowd took the bait, as Stewart knew they would.

The allegation of being a racist is a serious charge, but I'll take it head on and admit that I am a racist.  I'm not a white supremacist, I don't hate people based on "race," I don't wish harm to people on that basis.  I don't even believe race is a valid category of biological definition, it's just a convenient box we fit people into in order to rank them.  That's how I was taught to use it, even though my parents never taught me to look down on blacks or to ever use the "n-word" (you'd be surprised how few people used it in polite company in the days before 1964).  But I was taught to see race, and so to distinguish based on race, and that lasting legacy makes me a racist.

I learned this in seminary, when a very angry black woman joined our seminary class and made her anger about her treatment in American society quite plain to the rest of us (and held us all accountable for it because she, like us, had learned to see people as members of a race, much less so as individuals).  She was right in her anger, as well as righteous; and she taught me a great deal about my own racism that I had never faced.  We taught her, too; almost everyone in that school but her, and one teacher, was white.  We learned a great deal from each other, but I've never forgotten that lesson.  I am a racist.  There is no denying it.

But wait, you'll say, you're using the word wrong.  "Racist" is someone with antipathy to other races; "prejudiced" is someone who just doesn't like some characteristic they associate with "race," and just above that is "I just wouldn't want my daughter to marry one."  There's a sliding scale, and the bottom is "white supremacist," and just above that is "racist," and all racists are bad people.

Maybe it's my childhood Calvinism I can't shake, but I won't argue that racists are not bad people.  And I won't aver from my self-recognition that I'm a racist.  To me, that doesn't end the conversation; it starts it.

If I vote to condemn racism, I am not condemning just "the other;" I am condemning me, too.  I am condemning this part of me that learned to see people this way, and can't see them any other way.  I don't mind if people want to self-identify as black or Hispanic or Latino/a, or Asian (or Vietnamese, Chinese, Japanese, etc.).  Even if they see themselves as members of a race, it's not for me to argue with them.  That they do does not make them racist, either.  That isn't for me to say.  I speak only of myself.  You can't insult me by calling me a racist; you can't offend me, you can't silence me.  That will only start the conversation with me. It might be a conversation you don't want to have.  But I will try to have it.

Does that make me better than Congressman Stewart?  No.  This is not a contest, a compare and contrast, an either/or.  I'm not trying to judge or complain; I'm trying to encourage a national conversation.  I'm not the person best equipped to judge how we judge each other.  I'm just trying to start a discussion.

The founding of America was in racism.  Even if we think "good" thoughts today, we do it in a context of "race," a false qualifier that means we categorize people and force our preferences on them.  We aren't going to stop doing that, and we aren't going to not do it because we think we mean well.  Bull Connor meant well, too; by his lights.  Racism is wrong, and should be condemned.  Violence is wrong, and should be condemned.  We all agree on that.  But by that we generally mean it should not be used against us.  We aren't so condemning when it is used by us.  If you imply I'm a racist, well:  I'm way ahead of you.  If you want to respond to me with violence, I would want to provide the example of Dr. King's fellow marchers, who took the blows and the water cannons and the dogs passively, rather than aggressively.  I would want to, but I don't think I'm ready for that.

The power of powerlessness is to accept what power doles out, and let it pass.  There is no power without resistance.  That is the only way to diminish it and show that we are all as one.  The invitation to Isaiah's vision of the holy mountain would not come at the end of a gun or a club, or even social approbation.  It comes by accepting who you are, and who they are.  And the first, and most important lesson, is:  they are not you.  That's a good thing.  The second lesson is:  you are not the good person you think you are.  So they are not you; that does not mean they are less than you; or that you are less than them.  But still, don't imagine you are the thoroughly good person you think you are.  Because what is bad in thee, is usually what is also bad in me.