Following the murders of George Floyd and Breonna Taylor this spring, many of us in the museum field took stock like never before. In addition to making public statements in sympathy with the Black Lives Matter movement, many of us who are white did some deep soul searching about our values, biases, and complicity in the systemic racism that pervades our society.
Part of the soul searching for me was to join with about 800 other participants in the Cultural Equity Learning Collaborative (CELC), a nationwide antiracism program for people in the arts and creative sector. Beginning in July, I engaged in a weekly inquiry into the symptoms, causes, and cures of racism in America – and in me.
This has not been fun. It has provoked me into confronting my racist upbringing in the southern Midwest, some treasured hypocrisies that I’ve held, and the prison of my privilege which has kept me locked into fixed positions about who I am relative to everyone else.
I’d like to share with you some thoughts I’ve had along this path.
- One CELC exercise was to recognize and analyze your privilege, in my case white male privilege, and I must say I struggled with this emotionally. There is a certain amount of shame in acknowledging how much has been given to me from birth just because of my gender and color. And conversely how much has been denied to others because of theirs. For those of us who aspire to be antiracist, this shame is something to work through, to get beyond. Shame holds you back; it causes apathy and resistance to action because it’s so hard to confront. Privilege itself isn’t shameful, it’s a fact. Acknowledging it means transcending it and opening yourself to the possibilities of antiracism work.
- Ibram X. Kendi says that the heartbeat of racism is denial. So true. I have often thought or said “I am not a racist” because I have identified as a person of liberal attitude, global perspective, and progressive politics. You know, one of the “good guys.” This denial has blinded me to the fact that I participate in and support systems of racism and inequity. I have worked for museums, for example, that perpetuate the mythologies and voice of white patriarchy, and that require board members to ante up five- or six-figure annual donations, which sustain a power structure rooted in inequity. I work in a profession that nurtures white privilege by chronically underpaying its workforce, a tradition continued from its early days when museum careers were for the wealthy and connected. I have tolerated these things because “that’s the way it is.” No longer.
- “You can’t have reconciliation without truth,” social justice activist Bryan Stevenson told our CELC group. That quote made me realize the enormous opportunity and obligation museums have to create significant positive impact toward the cause of antiracism. We museum folks are very proud that our institutions are among society’s most trusted. We perceive ourselves as truth-tellers. The question we grapple with now is “whose truth?” Historian LaNeice Littleton observed that history is often used as a weapon supporting the narrative of white supremacy. Now is our chance to use our trusted voices with even greater volume, to continue our work of reinterpretation with greater urgency, to tell the complete truth and help move society toward reconciliation.
- The toughest question CELC has yet posed: “What are you willing to give up to be antiracist?” Hmmm. In my journal I wrote down the easy ones first. I’m willing to give up my fixed perspectives and embrace empathy. Give up my emotional security by challenging my biases. Give up money, time, and energy, as well as my impatience. These were a good start, but I knew the monster was still under the bed. What about power? What about my position? Would I be willing to give those up too? Yield the baton to someone who doesn’t look like me? This is the question each of us with privilege needs to wrestle with if we are to be agents of systemic change. I have to admit that I am still wrestling.
What ultimately motivates someone to challenge their privilege and potentially work against their self-interest by taking up the cause of antiracism? I am moved by words of Congressman John Lewis, who concluded his posthumous farewell with poignant encouragement. “So I say to you, walk with the wind, brothers and sisters, and let the spirit of peace and the power of everlasting love be your guide.”
Dan Yaeger