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.