If you're looking to understand why discussions between blacks
and whites about racism are often so difficult in this country,
you need only know this: when the subject is race and racism, whites
and blacks are often not talking about the same thing. To white
folks, racism is seen mostly as individual and interpersonal - as
with the uttering of a prejudicial remark or bigoted slur. For blacks,
it is that too, but typically more: namely, it is the pattern and
practice of policies and social institutions, which have the effect
of perpetuating deeply embedded structural inequalities between
people on the basis of race. To blacks, and most folks of color,
racism is systemic. To whites, it is purely personal.
These differences in perception make sense, of course. After all,
whites have not been the targets of systemic racism in this country,
so it is much easier for us to view the matter in personal terms.
If we have ever been targeted for our race, it has been only on
that individual, albeit regrettable, level. But for people of color,
racism has long been experienced as an institutional phenomenon.
It is the experience of systematized discrimination in housing,
employment, schools or the justice system. It is the knowledge that
one's entire group is under suspicion, at risk of being treated
negatively because of stereotypes held by persons with the power
to act on the basis of those beliefs (and the incentive to do so,
as a way to retain their own disproportionate share of that power
and authority).
The differences in white and black perceptions of the issue were
on full display recently, when whites accused New Orleans' Mayor
Ray Nagin of racism for saying that New Orleans should be and would
be a "chocolate city" again, after blacks dislocated by
Katrina had a chance to return. To one commentator after the other
- most of them white, but a few blacks as well - the remark was
by definition racist, since it seemed to imply that whites weren't
wanted, or at least not if it meant changing the demographics of
the city from mostly African American (which it was before the storm)
to mostly white, which it is now, pending the return of black folks.
To prove how racist the comment was, critics offered an analogy.
What would we call it, they asked, if a white politician announced
that their town would or should be a "vanilla" city, meaning
that it was going to retain its white majority? Since we would most
certainly call such a remark racist in the case of the white pol,
consistency requires that we call Nagin's remark racist as well.
Seems logical enough, only it's not. And the reason it's not goes
to the very heart of what racism is and what it isn't - and the
way in which the different perceptions between whites and blacks
on the matter continue to thwart rational conversations on the subject.
Before dealing with the white politician/vanilla city analogy, let's
quickly examine a few simple reasons why Nagin's remarks fail the
test of racism. First, there is nothing to suggest that his comment
about New Orleans retaining its black majority portended a dislike
of whites, let alone plans to keep them out. In fact, if we simply
examine Nagin's own personal history - which has been obscured by
many on the right since Katrina who have tried to charge him with
being a liberal black Democrat - we would immediately recognize
the absurdity of the charge. Nagin owes his political career not
to New Orleans' blacks, but New Orleans' white folks. It was whites
who voted for him, at a rate of nearly ninety percent, while blacks
only supported him at a rate of forty-two percent, preferring instead
the city's chief of police (which itself says something: black folks
in a city with a history of police brutality preferring the cop
to this guy). Nagin has always been, in the eyes of most black New
Orleanians, pretty vanilla: he was a corporate vice-president, a
supporter of President Bush, and a lifelong Republican prior to
changing parties right before the Mayoral race.
Secondly, given the ways in which displaced blacks especially have
been struggling to return - getting the run-around with insurance
payments, or dealing with landlords seeking to evict them (or jacking
up rents to a point where they can't afford to return) - one can
safely intuit that all Nagin was doing was trying to reassure folks
that they were wanted back and wouldn't be prevented from re-entering
the city.
And finally, Nagin's remarks were less about demography per se,
than an attempt to speak to the cultural heritage of the town, and
the desire to retain the African and Afro-Caribbean flavor of one
of the world's most celebrated cities. Fact is, culturally speaking,
New Orleans is what New Orleans is, because of the chocolate to
which Nagin referred. True enough, many others have contributed
to the unique gumbo that is New Orleans, but can anyone seriously
doubt that the predominant flavor in that gumbo has been that inspired
by the city's black community? If so, then you've never lived there
or spent much time in the city (and no, pissing on the street during
Mardi Gras or drinking a badly-made Hurricane at Pat O'Brian's doesn't
count). If the city loses its black cultural core (which is not
out of the question if the black majority doesn't or is unable to
return), then indeed New Orleans itself will cease to exist, as
we know it. That is surely what Nagin was saying, and it is simply
impossible to think that mentioning the black cultural core of the
city and demanding that it will and should be retained is racist:
doing so fits no definition of racism anywhere, in any dictionary,
on the planet.
As for the analogy with a white leader demanding the retention
of a vanilla majority in his town, the two scenarios are not even
remotely similar, precisely because of how racism has operated,
historically, and today, to determine who lives where and who doesn't.
For a white politician to demand that his or her city was going
to remain, in effect, white, would be quite different, and far worse
than what Nagin said. After all, when cities, suburbs or towns are
overwhelmingly white, there are reasons (both historic and contemporary)
having to do with discrimination and unequal access for people of
color. Restrictive covenants, redlining by banks, racially-restrictive
homesteading rights, and even policies prohibiting people of color
from living in an area altogether - four things that whites have
never experienced anywhere in this nation (as whites) - were commonly
deployed against black and brown folks throughout our history. James
Loewen's newest book, Sundown Towns, tells the story of hundreds
of these efforts in communities across the nation, and makes clear
that vanilla suburbs and towns have become so deliberately.
On the other hand, chocolate cities have not developed because whites
have been barred or even discouraged from entry (indeed, cities
often bend over backwards to encourage whites to move to the cities
in the name of economic revival), but rather, because whites long
ago fled in order to get away from black people. In fact, this white
flight was directly subsidized by the government, which spent billions
of dollars on highway construction (which helped whites get from
work in the cities to homes in the 'burbs) and low-cost loans, essentially
available only to whites in those newly developing residential spaces.
The blackness of the cities increased as a direct result of the
institutionally racist policies of the government, in concert with
private sector discrimination, which kept folks of color locked
in crowded urban spaces, even as whites could come and go as they
pleased.
So for a politician to suggest that a previously brown city should
remain majority "chocolate" is merely to demand that those
who had always been willing to stay and make the town their home,
should be able to remain there and not be run off in the name of
gentrification, commercial development or urban renewal. It is to
demand the eradication of barriers for those blacks who otherwise
might have a hard time returning, not to call for the erection of
barriers to whites - barriers that have never existed in the first
place, and which there would be no power to impose in any event
(quite unlike the barriers that have been set up to block access
for the black and brown). In short, to call for a vanilla majority
is to call for the perpetuation of obstacles to persons of color,
while to call for a chocolate majority in a place such as New Orleans
is to call merely for the continuation of access and the opportunity
for black folks to live there. Is that too much to ask?
Funny
how Nagin's comments simply calling for the retention of a chocolate
New Orleans bring down calls of racism upon his head, while the
very real and active planning of the city's white elite - people
like Joe Cannizaro and Jimmy Reiss - to actually change it to a
majority white town, elicits no attention or condemnation whatsoever
from white folks. In other words, talking about blacks being able
to come back and make up the majority is racist, while actually
engaging in ethnic cleansing - by demolishing black neighborhoods
like the lower ninth ward, the Treme, or New Orleans East as many
want to do - is seen as legitimate economic development policy.
It's also interesting that whites chose the "chocolate city"
part of Nagin's speech, delivered on MLK day, as the portion deserving
condemnation as racist, rather than the next part - the part in
which Nagin said that Katrina was God's wrath, brought on by the
sinful ways of black folks, what with their crime rates, out-of-wedlock
childbirths and general wickedness. In other words, if Nagin casts
aspersions upon blacks as a group - truth be told, the textbook
definition of racism - whites have no problem with that. Hell, most
whites agree with those kinds of anti-black views, according to
polling and survey data. But if Nagin suggests that those same blacks
- including, presumably the "wicked" ones - be allowed
to come back and live in New Orleans, thereby maintaining a black
majority, that becomes the problem for whites, for reasons that
are as self-evident as they are (and will remain) undiscussed.
Until white folks get as upset about racism actually limiting
the life choices and chances of people of color, as we do about
black folks hurting our feelings, it's unlikely things will get
much better. In the end, it's hard to take seriously those who fume
against this so-called reverse racism, so petty is the complaint,
and so thin the ivory skin of those who issue it.
Keep track of Tim Wise's lecture schedule and new commentaries,
at
www.timwise.org
Check out Tim's books, White Like Me: Reflections on Race from
a Privileged
Son, and Affirmative Action: Racial Preference in Black and
White at a
bookstore near you, or online at Amazon.com. |