Imagine you’re trying to learn calculus. You’re in a classroom with some students who’ve been doing high-level math for years, and others who’ve only learned basic addition. But no one can leave until everybody learns calculus. Oh, and by the way, the school building is on fire.
This is the picture Jennifer Harvey paints for readers of her bestseller “Raising White Kids” and her new book, “Anti-Racism as Daily Practice: Refuse Shame, Change White Communities, and Help Create a Just World.” Calculus, here, represents discussing racism. The calculus pros stand in for people of color whose families have, by necessity, taught them about racism since preschool. The “basic math” students represent White people who’ve had little practice talking about race.
The analogy — complete with licking flames to reflect urgency — aptly depicts this fraught moment in American society.
“We’re living in really difficult times,” Harvey wrote in the opening of her new book. “Intense white backlash against Black Lives Matter is ongoing. Efforts to ban books, fearmongering against critical race theory and takeovers of school boards by those intent on suppressing accurate teaching of US history have roared through the nation.”
To create a just world, “White folks are going to have to take embodied actions,” Harvey said. “And we are going to make mistakes. Still, we’ve got to build the skills — aka, learn the calculus — so that we can all get out of the burning school.”
Harvey intends her new book to serve as a “container for learning,” insisting that readers keep practicing while providing support and coaching around inevitable slipups. The book’s upskilling message is: “I’m going to walk with you in ways that help you be accountable. And I hope you’ll do the same for me.”
This conversation has been edited and condensed for clarity.
Jennifer Harvey: Race is everywhere in our society, woven into our origins, policies, schooling and even where we end up living because of how banks have historically given loans to some folks and not others. Racial socialization is communal, determining the legacies we inherit, the generational teachings we pass down, how our families look, and how we talk to one another.
Racialization happens in all our lives — including White lives, although often less visibly to us because we likely haven’t discussed racism much or had to fight it for our survival. Being born White automatically informs how we see the world and our place in it, shaping what we know about race and how we know it.
Socialization as a White person leads to common traits like White silence — a main reason White people today find it so difficult to discuss race, even once we know we need to. When people feel frozen and stuck, not knowing what to do when we see racism, White silence can lead to passivity in the face of injustice.
Harvey: White silence can send confusing messages that lead to shame. For example, if a grandparent says something explicitly racist but the parents don’t object, despite having voiced that they value equality, a child watching can internalize a White racializing experience that leaves them feeling conflicted, confused and with a deep-seated sense of unworthiness.
Shame arises when I recognize that, for reasons I did not necessarily choose, my life is embedded in systems and daily realities that give me more while allowing my neighbors to experience violence, harm and injustice.
White guilt is the sense that we, or our ancestors, have caused harm. When we act to change inequitable conditions, repairing harm helps us process White guilt, and takes away its power.
Harvey: Human beings are embodied, in-the-flesh, material creatures. We recognize racial differences from an early age — as young as 3 months. Before they had words, my children learned what racial difference meant by watching racial socialization play out even when it wasn’t spoken.
When I walk into a room, the way I hold my body, use eye contact and whether, or even how, I smile can increase or decrease racial tension. As a professor on a predominately White campus (Drake University in Iowa), I watched how White students responded to students of color, struggling to make eye contact and often choosing not to sit near Black students, especially early in the semester. When being in mixed-race spaces was unfamiliar, their bodies responded by creating physical distance.
Harvey: There is a paradoxical tension between the need for White people to make change and to slow down and engage in enough self-reflection to avoid causing harm or creating racist backlash. But I could sit and self-reflect for the next 100 years and still not be done. The question becomes, what kind of action should I take?
The best way to take immediate action is to reach out to a people-of-color-led organization and offer help with something simple, like making copies. Instead of creating something new or giving advice, ask: “How can I be of service to work that’s already happening?” If I just do what I’m asked, I’m unlikely to cause a lot of harm, and I’ll likely learn a lot about myself in the process.
When it comes to anti-racist practice, we need to be concrete about where we’re at, developmentally. We don’t ask children in sixth grade to write a dissertation. But we also don’t say, “Don’t write anything until you can write the dissertation.”
Harvey: Because even talking about race and racism in our interpersonal lives with other White folks can be difficult, it helps to find other White folks to help us practice. We can also learn from all the amazing resources out there.
Look for a group in your community that’s already working on these issues and ask if they’re taking volunteers. Too busy? Consider transferring some hours you’re currently investing in the well-being of other White people toward justice work that people of color are leading all over this nation.
We don’t have to do everything. We don’t have to do huge things. It’s better to do something small and do it faithfully for a long time than it is to think, “I’m going to do something big!” and then burn out.
Harvey: Step one: Enlist help from two people outside the family who can offer support. They can help me practice what to say, offer cheerleading, send me good energy while I’m trying things out and then check in with me afterward. They can remind me that my job isn’t to “win” or prove anyone wrong. My only goal is to say a version of “I dissent. I’m not going to participate in this.”
If silence about race is the norm, that doesn’t mean racism isn’t happening. If no one speaks up, racism is given a pass. Even saying, “I don’t agree with this. I don’t know how to talk about it. But I don’t like it” changes dynamics. Speaking my values disrupts that status quo and opens the door to new conversations. It also models for the next generation alternatives to White silence, which is vital.
Sometimes we learn that another family member is actually an ally. Now, we can help each other develop the skills, emotional strength and courage to speak up.
Family settings are some of the hardest places to interrupt racism; I’m probably far more invested in what my mom thinks about me than a coworker. But practicing with family makes it easier to speak up in other spaces. Interrupting racism is critical because, whether through explicit endorsement or apathy, masses of White folks have enabled White supremacy to get such a stronghold that now our democracy is on the brink.
Harvey: Over time, daily practices become part of our identity. The beautiful thing is, the more consistently we practice the less energy habits require.
Making anti-racism into a habit takes an intentional strategy with supports. Find specific, doable practices and enlist accountability buddies to encourage you to stay on track.
If you’re just starting out, pick two concrete goals for the next year and practice them over and over. If I spend two hours every week for a year as the only White person in a space with people of color, I am very likely to see new skills emerge that I couldn’t have thought my way into before I created that habit.
Once you’ve integrated the decision-making steps, the habits become easy, and you’ll discover you see the world differently.
Harvey: Racism costs us connection. Longstanding silences around something as consequential as racism reveals disconnection in our families and communities. My clunky, hard relationships with my own family — where we’ve talked about race for decades — aren’t perfect, but they’re deeper now than when I felt I had to hide part of myself and my values.
Ultimately, racism costs us the ability to be in relationships with other humans. Once I got to a point where I could participate in multiracial spaces without always making a mess, it brought to my life the beautiful connections that come when we embrace a plural world where diversity is in our DNA.
Jessica DuLong is a Brooklyn, New York-based journalist, book collaborator, writing coach and the author of “Saved at the Seawall: Stories From the September 11 Boat Lift” and “My River Chronicles: Rediscovering the Work That Built America.”
