So You Want to Talk About Race

by Ijeoma Oluo

Do your research. If you are going to be talking about an issue you are not familiar with, a quick Google search will save everyone involved a lot of time and frustration.

Don’t make your anti-racism argument oppressive against other groups. When stressed, when angry, when tired, or when threatened, our worst selves can come out. It is fine to be angry, there is a lot about racism to be angry about. And it is fine to express that anger. But it is never okay to battle racism with sexism, transphobia, ableism, or other oppressive language and actions.

When you start to feel defensive, stop and ask yourself why.

stop and ask yourself, “What is being threatened here? What am I thinking that this conversation says about me?” and “Has my top priority shifted to preserving my ego?”

Do not tone police. Do not require that people make their discussions on the racial oppression they face comfortable for you.

If you are white, watch how many times you say “I” and “me.” Remember, systemic racism is about more than individuals, and it is not about your personal feelings.

Ask yourself: Am I trying to be right, or am I trying to do better? Conversations on racism should never be about winning.

9) Do not force people of color into discussions of race.

Stop trying to jump back in when a conversation is beyond saving.

Step away, and take some time to calm down. Then think about where things went wrong, and what, if anything, can be done to revisit that conversation later in a productive and healthy way.

Apologize. If you can see where you screwed up, where you made assumptions, where you got overly defensive, where you hurt someone—own up and say sorry. And mean it.

Don’t write your synopsis of this conversation as “the time you got yelled at.” Remember why you had been in this conversatio...

Don’t insist that people give you credit for your intentions. If you screwed up and you hurt people, your good intentions won’t lessen that hurt.

Don’t beat yourself up. Yes, you should feel bad when you say or do something that hurts someone else. And it’s natural to feel frustrated when you aren’t communicating as effectively as you need to. But you also need to keep in mind that this happens, a lot.

Remember that it is worth the risk and commit to trying again.

Racial oppression should always be an emotional topic to discuss. It should always be anger-inducing. As long as racism exists to ruin the lives of countless people of color, it should be something that upsets us.

And if you are white, and you don’t want to feel any of that pain by having these conversations, then you are asking people of color to continue to bear the entire burden of racism alone.

White people—talk about race with other white people. Stop pretending that you are exempt from the day-to-day realities of race.

When we were building our community, those men weren’t who we had in mind as members. When we talked about expanding art opportunities for people of color in Seattle, they weren’t who we had in mind. When we talked about diversity in tech, they weren’t who we had in mind. When we talked about getting a hip group of black and brown people together for a picnic on a sunny day, they weren’t who we had in mind. When we talked about community, they weren’t who we had in mind.

We were talking about people of color with college degrees, and “high-fashion” clothes and eclectic tastes in music.

I began to see how unaware of our privilege our group had been. We had been patting ourselves on the back for creating this great community, for creating a home for people of color in a hostile city—and our unexamined privilege had kept out those most negatively impacted by overwhelmingly white, wealthy Seattle—those who, unlike us, could not cushion some of the blows of racism with at least some of the indicators of success that white Seattle valued.

that one afternoon in the sun definitely brought about a disillusionment with myself and what type of black woman I thought I was, and caused me to question my individual work and change my focus to ensure that when I talk about black people, I’m talking, as best as I can while acknowledging the limitations of my own life experience, about all black people—of all classes, all education levels, all genders, all sexualities, and all abilities.

It might make you feel very bad, and I’m convinced that is why so many of us are quick to dismiss discussions on privilege before they even get started.

Privilege, in the social justice context, is an advantage or a set of advantages that you have that others do not.

If we are truly dedicated to addressing systemic oppression and inequality, we must understand the full impact of these advantages and disadvantages in order to move toward real change in our society and ourselves.

I was raised by a college-educated mother who taught me that a degree was important. I grew up as a neuro-typical, nondisabled child whom school was designed to serve and for whom teachers were willing and trained to dedicate their time and efforts. My grade school education was free and open to people of all genders and economic classes. I had enough security in my home and nutrition as a child to be able to concentrate on my studies. I live in a country that provides at least some college grants and loans. I grew up in an area that allows and supports the advanced education of women. I did not have to drop out of school to help support my family. I am a documented citizen and therefore eligible for financial aid.

I do deserve to feel proud of my degree, but it isn’t deserving of the general reputation that I, as a college graduate, am a smarter, more responsible, and more valuable citizen than those without a degree

This right here, the realization that we may be a part of the reason why the deck is stacked against others, that we may have been contributing to it for years without our knowledge, is why the concept of privilege is so threatening to so many.

When somebody asks you to “check your privilege” they are asking you to pause and consider how the advantages you’ve had in life are contributing to your opinions and actions, and how the lack of disadvantages in certain areas is keeping you from fully understanding the struggles others are facing and may in fact be contributing to those struggles.

When we are willing to check our privilege, we are not only identifying areas where we are perpetuating oppression in order to stop personally perpetuating that oppression, but we are also identifying areas where we have the power and access to change the system as a whole.

When we identify where our privilege intersects with somebody else’s oppression, we’ll find our opportunities to make real change.

I recommend practicing looking for your privilege at first when you are in a neutral situation.

You can be both privileged in some areas of life, and underprivileged in others.

Once you’ve written down a nice long list of privilege, start thinking about how this privilege might have influenced not only your status in society, but your experience with and understanding of the world at large.

Being privileged doesn’t mean that you are always wrong and people without privilege are always right—it means that there is a good chance you are missing a few very important pieces of the puzzle.

used to that pang of guilt that comes with realizing yet another area of life where you’ve benefited at the expense of others. It will not kill you. You can withstand it.

No, you do not owe someone who is oppressing you with their unexamined privilege any particular kindness or education, but know that you have unexamined privilege too, no matter how woke you think you are—and someone will be telling you to check your privilege while you try to battle your own defensiveness as you figure out what the hell they are talking about.

Once you are aware of your privilege, you can get to work on dismantling it. This is where checking your privilege really pays off.

Every day you are given opportunities to make the world better, by making yourself a little uncomfortable and asking, “who doesn’t have this same freedom or opportunity that I’m enjoying now?” These daily interactions are how systems of oppression are maintained, but with awareness, they can be how we tear those systems down.

Intersectionality, the belief that our social justice movements must consider all of the intersections of identity, privilege, and oppression that people face in order to be just and effective, is the number one requirement of all of the work that I do.

Because the needs of the most privileged are usually the ones prioritized, they are often the only ones considered when discussing solutions to oppression and inequality. These solutions, not surprisingly, often leave the underprivileged populations in our movements behind.

Intersectionality, and the necessity of considering intersectionality, applies to more than just our social justice efforts. Our government, education system, economic system, and social systems all should consider intersectionality if they have any hope of effectively serving the public.

Intersectionality forces people to interact with, listen to, and consider people they don’t usually interact with, listen to, or consider.

if you don’t embrace intersectionality, even if you make progress for some, you will look around one day and find that you’ve become the oppressor of others.

How might race, gender, sexuality, ability, class, or sex impact this subject?

Could the identity differences between me and the person I’m talking with about race be contributing to our differences of opinion or perspective?

Are the people in my racial justice conversations and the opinions being considered truly representing the diversity of identities that interact with the subject matter being addressed?

Does my scholarship of racial justice reflect the diversity of identities impacted ...

Am I listening to people whose identities and experiences differ from mine?

Am I looking for what I don’t know?