The White Problem

I sit down to write this post after finishing the film I Am Not Your Negro (Peck, 2016), and my stomach is knotted with anger, confusion, and sadness. Part of my privilege—or as James Baldwin might put it, ignorance—had allowed me to turn my face from the reality of what America has done to black folks. Watching this film forced me to face ugly images of the hatred that's plagued our society for centuries. There on my TV screen, where I usually watch Scrubs while I eat dinner, were photos of black men hanging from tree branches; police officers kneeling on the neck of a black woman—not in the year 2020, but 1963; and white folks spitting on black children who had to brave a sea of monsters to access the education they deserved. It is disgusting to acknowledge that our society has been complicit (read: apathetic) in these acts of bigotry, and even more revolting to know that white supremacy has not gone away. As I stared at the images of white people protesting the desegregation of schools, at the men who postured towards teenage girls, and at the hateful images and language scrawled on signs, I could not help but have images of MAGA rallies flash through my mind. Videos of the anti-racism rallies mirrored those of the Black Lives Matter movement today. I’ve always thought of this as history repeating itself. However, in I Am Not Your Negro (Peck, 2016), James Baldwin made it a point to say that there really is no history—only the present. 

I feel like we have been living in some sort of simulation—that we have raised generations in a loop on the basis of lies. Every morning children pledge allegiance to a country that has whitewashed its history books and replaced them with false statements to cover up the horrendous crimes we committed. Massacres are replaced with legends of docile slaves who whistle tunes while happily complying with their masters’ orders (Peck, 2016). Every year hundreds of children dress up as “pilgrims and Indians” while acting out a happy supper of shared resources between two friendly communities. Our textbooks preach democracy and freedom, yet we practiced slavery and white supremacy (Glaude Jr., 2020). What is so infuriating is that none of this is true, and I don’t understand how we have gotten to the year 2020 preaching such a twisted version of history. I can only assume it is because “people cannot bear very much reality” (Peck, 2016). We are too busy living in blissful ignorance. “This is the real American dilemma: acknowledging the moral effects of a way of life emptied of genuine meaning because of a lie that denies the things we have done” (Glaude Jr., 2020). The time has come for that to change.

The Dangers of Whitewashing Black History

I think it is time for historians to re-write our textbooks. To replace scripts for ‘the first Thanksgiving’  with a reader’s theater on equality. For educators to revamp their lesson plans with honest discussions, and for children's television programs to teach the next generation how to be anti-racist. It has been said that if children of color can experience racism at an early age, we can begin teaching children about racism at an early age. My hope is that with steps like these, our society can break out of the loop of lies we have been stuck in since white people started convincing themselves they were better than anyone with more melanin in their skin. James Baldwin reflected that “we are cruelly trapped between what we would like to be and what we are” (Peck, 2016). I think that deep down, most Americans want to do better. It’s just a matter of showing that they care by doing—not saying.

Teaching children about racism:

Arthur on Racism: Talk, Listen, and Act

References:

• Glaude Jr., E. S. (2020). Begin Again: James Baldwin's America and its urgent lessons for our own. Crown. Kindle Edition.
• Peck, R. (Director). (2016). I am not your negro [Film]. Velvet Film; Artemis Productions; Close Up Films.