White Fragility: Why It's So Hard for White People to Talk About Racism

by Robin DiAngelo

While implicit bias is always at play because all humans have bias, inequity can occur simply through homogeneity; if I am not aware of the barriers you face, then I won’t see them, much less be motivated to remove them. Nor will I be motivated to remove the barriers if they provide an advantage to which I feel entitled.

These white teachers’ responses illustrate several dynamics of white fragility. First, the teachers never considered that in not understanding the student’s reaction, they might be lacking some knowledge or context. They demonstrated no curiosity about the student’s perspective or why she might have taken offense.

I then ask, “What would it be like if you could simply give us feedback, have us graciously receive it, reflect, and work to change the behavior?” Recently a man of color sighed and said, “It would be revolutionary.” I ask my fellow whites to consider the profundity of that response. It would be revolutionary if we could receive, reflect, and work to change the behavior.

On the one hand, the man’s response points to how difficult and fragile we are. But on the other hand, it indicates how simple it can be to take responsibility for our racism. However, we aren’t likely to get there if we are operating from the dominant worldview that only intentionally mean people can participate in racism.

I repeat: stopping our racist patterns must be more important than working to convince others that we don’t have them.

Being good or bad is not relevant. Racism is a multilayered system embedded in our culture. All of us are socialized into the system of racism. Racism cannot be avoided. Whites have blind spots on racism, and I have blind spots on racism. Racism is complex, and I don’t have to understand every nuance of the feedback to validate that feedback. Whites are / I am unconsciously invested in racism. Bias is implicit and unconscious; I don’t expect to be aware of mine without a lot of ongoing effort. Giving us white people feedback on our racism is risky for people of color, so

we can consider the feedback a sign of trust. Feedback on white racism is difficult to give; how I am given the feedback is not as relevant as the feedback itself. Authentic antiracism is rarely comfortable. Discomfort is key to my growth and thus desirable. White comfort maintains the racial status quo, so discomfort is necessary and important. I must not confuse comfort with safety; as a white person, I am safe in discussions of racism. The antidote to guilt is action. It takes courage to break with white solidarity; how can I support those who do? I bring my group’s history with me; history matters. Given my socialization, it is much more likely that I am the one who doesn’t understand the issue.

Nothing exempts me from the forces of racism. My analysis must be intersectional (a recognition that my other social identities—class, gender, ability—inform how I was socialized into the racial system). Racism hurts (even kills) people of color 24-7. Int...

Minimize our defensiveness. Demonstrate our vulnerability. Demonstrate our curiosity and humility. Allow for growth. Stretch our worldview. Ensure action. Demonstrate that we practice what we profess to value. Build authentic relationships and trust. Interrupt privilege-protecting comfort. Interrupt internalized superiority.

“What has enabled you to be a full, educated, professional adult and not know what to do about racism?”

How have we managed not to know, when the information is all around us? When people of color have been telling us for years?

For example, if my answer is that I was not educated about racism, I know that I will have to get educated. If my answer is that I don’t know people of color, I will need to build relationships. If it is because there are no people of color in my environment, I will need to get out of my comfort zone and change my environment; addressing racism is not without effort.

“Do whatever it takes for you to internalize the above assumptions.”

“Take the initiative and find out on your own.”

As an analogy, imagine you go to the doctor, who tells you that you have an acoustic neuroma. Just as she is about to explain what that is and what your options are, she gets an emergency call and must rush off, abruptly ending your visit. What would you do? You would very likely go home, get on the internet, and read everything you could find on the subject. You might join a discussion group with people who had experience with the condition. Even if the doctor wasn’t called away and she explained the condition and gave you some advice, you would probably still go home and do the research so that you would have more than one opinion on such an important—perhaps even a life-and-death—condition. Bottom line: you would

care enough to get informed. So consider racism a matter of life and death (as it is for people of color), and do your homework.

I did not focus on my intentions but focused on the impact of my behavior and apologized for that impact.

When I start from the premise that of course I have been thoroughly socialized into the racist culture in which I was born, I no longer need to expend energy denying that fact.

First, I try to affirm a person’s perspective before I share mine, and when I do share mine, I try to point the finger inward, not outward.

my actions are driven by my own need for integrity, not a need to correct or change someone else.