In D&I work, we often offer suggestions to the effect of: “This is an ongoing journey,” or “Expect a lack of closure.” In essence, both phrases can be boiled down to one statement that would by now be cliché if it wasn’t so essential to continue restating: This work is never done.  

There is a wide range of understanding and experience level around D&I topics, and it’s easy to compare ourselves to others—partly because we want to be doing the right thing, and it is easy to find examples of others who we believe don’t “get it” the way they should. While this may be human nature, it also risks dangerous pitfalls: creating a false “good/bad” dichotomy, and sidestepping—or “distancing” ourselves from—the work we need to do ourselves. 

In this post, I’ll be unpacking some common distancing statements that people may use when trying to assure others that they are on the “right side” of the issues and the ways that these ideas may in fact hinder our goals to promote inclusion, equity and justice. 

In the context of this post, I will be focusing on whiteness, as race represents one of the more frequent targets of distancing rhetoric, and as it is the identity from which I personally have had the most experience distancing myself. However, the essence of these examples may be applied to any other dimensions of privilege, and I encourage you to think about how you may be manifesting them as they relate to your privileged (but woke!) identities. 

 “I’m a good white person. I get it.” “It’s so sad how some white people treat others.” 

As my colleague Travis Jones explores in his TEDxCharlotte speechthe false good/bad white person dichotomy serves to absolve some people’s guilt by demonizing others and distracts from the truth that we all play a role in inequity—by benefitting from it, by upholding it, by failing to challenge it in all of the ways available to us. Of course, no one can spend every waking moment dismantling systems of oppression; this is a recipe for burnout. However, one of the best things we can do is to acknowledge this reality and recognize that for as long as inequity exists, chances are we play a role, and none of us is absolved, regardless of how “tuned in” we may be. 

We all play a role in inequity—by benefitting from it, by upholding it, by failing to challenge it. Click To Tweet

A quick litmus test I have developed for myself: If I am referring to people who hold the same identity that I do, am I using “we/our,” or am I using “they/their”? (I.e. ‘white women need to reflect on our privilege in the feminist movement’ vs. ‘white women need to reflect on their privilege in the feminist movement.’) If the latter—why? Is there a rhetorical reason for separating myself from this group that I am a part of, aside from proving that I am not one of those white women? Oftentimes not. (And I am a white woman who needs to reflect on my privilege—there is always more to be gained through ongoing reflection.) I have worked to catch myself defaulting in these cases to “they,” and revise accordingly to include myself in this group. Chances are, your constructive criticism will be more appreciated by people of your own and other identities alike if you name your own identity and involvement in this system rather than distancing yourself from them. 

Recognize that for as long as inequity exists, chances are we play a role, and none of us is absolved, regardless of how “tuned in” we may be. Click To Tweet

 “Come on, you know I have a lot of diverse friends.” “I’m not racist—I’ve dated people of color!”  

People with diverse friends, family, love interests, etc. are just as capable as anyone else of saying something hurtful to or about someone of another identity. (In fact, we are even capable of saying things that are hurtful about our own identities. Check out our recent series on internalized oppression for more on this.) If your first inclination is to respond to criticism about something you have said or done with this defense mechanism, pause for a moment to reflect on why that is.  

“Hey, that was kind of hurtful because X, Y and Z” does not mean, “you are a bad person for saying that, and you must be [racist/sexist/fill-in-the-blank].” It does mean: “I noticed that what you said may have an impact that you were not aware of, and I trust your intentions enough that I believe this can be a learning opportunity so you can be more aware of this in the future.” 

It is very easy to take constructive criticism personally, but, just as you might see suggestions from a supervisor as “room for growth,” I encourage you to reframe such interactions as someone believing in your potential to do better. This is difficult! While you may not immediately agree with the person, the best thing you can do in this situation is to say something like, “I didn’t mean any harm but I hadn’t considered that, and I will do some more reflection on it. Thank you for bringing this to my attention.” Then, make sure you follow through with the self-reflectionwhat about your experiences, identity, or lack of awareness about a topic could have caused you to be unaware of how your comment might negatively impact someone else? Assuming you do not wish to hurt others, how can you learn from this experience? 

 “I just don’t understand how other white people don’t get it.” “I don’t get why this is so hard.” 

These statements effectively claim moral high ground. (“Some people like me don’t understand why racism is a problem, but I do!!”) Again, this upholds the false good/bad dichotomy, and anyone sharing these sentiments is likely working under the assumption that they understand the issues at play. However, it is impossible that they fully understand the experiences of someone from another identity; they can almost certainly learn more. Furthermore,“I don’t get why this is so hard,” may in fact relay that someone does not understand the complexities involved in the issue they are referring to. So, let’s take a step back and remind ourselves of why problems like racism prove so difficult to tackle: 

This is “so hard” because of systems of oppression. It is “so hard” because of media depictions of various groups that we all internalize, and which cloud our biases.This is “so hard” because we are conditioned not to acknowledge—let alone talk about—our differences, and because most of us are raised in segregated communities. This is “so hard” because of hundreds of years of brutally unjust, inequitable history that has not been adequately repaired. This is “so hard” because it involves laws, politics, culture, individual opinions, lived experiences, human psychology, and critically, education (or lack thereof) in an age of misinformation.  

The list goes on, but I will offer one more essential reason: This is “so hard” not only because many people avoid these “divisive” topics or refuse to get involved, but also because those who are ideologically on board often believe their work is done, and that other people are the problem. In turn, they fail to reflect on their own biases, areas of opportunity, and privileges.  

This is 'so hard' because those who are ideologically on board often believe their work is done, and that other people are the problem. In turn, they fail to reflect on their own biases, areas of opportunity, and privileges. Click To Tweet

If you think you “get it,” chances are there is much more to learn if you start looking. If you “don’t understand why this is so hard,” you may not be appropriately considering the scope of the challenges we are up against in dismantling systems of oppression. (And if you do understand it but fall back on this as a form of small talk (which I myself have been guilty of,) consider committing to avoid such oversimplified platitudes.) 

In closing, I will offer a few strategies for avoiding the pitfalls inherent in distancing behavior: 

  • Remember the experiences that led you to understanding the knowledge you now possess. Consider how others might not have had the same experiences and opportunities for learning. Focus on making opportunities for understanding more accessible, rather than disparaging those who do not hold the same perspective. 
  • Always own your privilege, by naming your privileged identities rather than deemphasizing them. Consider intentionally using “we” instead of “they” language. 
  • If you as a person with a privileged identity believe you have “arrived” when it comes to social justice or D&I topics, reflect on how you have, or might, respond to constructive criticism from someone else. If you are not able to accept criticism because you default to defense or fragility, you probably have more work to do—as do we all! Make every effort to put your own feelings and defensiveness aside and learn from what others share with you. 

It is easy to point to someone else’s faults rather than turning our thoughts inward to inquire about our own areas of opportunity, but particularly if we hold privileged identities, this is far from the most productive work we can do in this space. If each of us reframed our work in terms of “what could I learn more about next in my journey?” I believe that we would see change unfold much faster. I hope these considerations and strategies will inspire you to dig deep and move forward in your own journey. 

It is easy to point to someone else’s faults rather than turning our thoughts inward to inquire about our own areas of opportunity, but particularly if we hold privileged identities, this is far from the most productive work we can… Click To Tweet