Andrew Lee Nicole Cardoza Andrew Lee Nicole Cardoza

Dismantle racial gatekeeping.

Bird-watching isn’t “about” race. A white friend group, book club, or startup probably isn’t “about” race, either. But if a social group or organization is overwhelmingly white, there’s likely to be an element of racial exclusion, even if unconscious or unintended. Bringing conversations about race into majority-white spaces isn’t a distraction because majority-white spaces are already “about” race.

TAKE ACTION

  • Actively dismantle racial gatekeeping in social networks, organizations, and workplaces through advocacy and tough conversations.

  • Understand how gatekeeping perpetuates racial inequality.

  • Consider: What can you do with your privilege/power to foster inclusion in the communities for the hobbies that matter most to you?

GET EDUCATED

By Andrew Lee (he/him)

The last year saw widely-publicized police murders, openly white supremacist militias, and widespread protests. The rebellions of 2020 were the largest protest movement in U.S. history (NYTimes). Mass movements compel people to pick sides, even those who never held a picket sign. This means there have been heated conversations about race and racism in unexpected places.

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In June 2020, birder Christian Cooper asked a woman to leash her dog in an area of Central Park with songbirds. In response, she told police “there’s an African-American man threatening my life,” all on camera (YouTube). Black birders and ornithologists often feel suspicion from white nature-goers. One graduate student recounted efforts “to appear as least threatening as possible” to each white person he encounters in the field. Now, predominantly white birding organizations are making initial steps towards diversity and renaming birds named after white supremacists. “American birders have their own racial reckoning,” read the news (Washington Post).

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Racial reckoning came for the knitters as well. Knitting entrepreneur Karen Templer apologized for comparing an upcoming trip to India to “colonizing Mars” (Fringe Association). The ensuing conversation gave people of color room to address racism in the knitting community, but not everyone was ready. The backlash, said Sukrita Maho, was “usually from white people who don’t understand why we’re ‘making it about race’” (Vox).
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Bird-watching isn’t “about” race. A white friend group, book club, or startup probably isn’t “about” race, either. But if a social group or organization is overwhelmingly white, there’s likely to be an element of racial exclusion, even if unconscious or unintended. Bringing conversations about race into majority-white spaces isn’t a distraction because majority-white spaces are already “about” race.
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Some will object that their groups are exclusively Caucasian by chance. “It’s not their fault that people of color don’t want to knit, bird, work, or hang out with them!”

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It’s true: people of color generally aren’t itching to spend time with white people who’d rather not spend time with them. The problem is when majority-white groups function as gatekeepers, cutting off opportunities for others.
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For instance, people often learn to bird through birding organizations, and city-dwellers find birds in urban parks. If you’re racially profiled at the park and get weird looks at the meetings of the birding society, your new hobby may become unworkable.

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This holds for employment as well. 70% of white people’s jobs are acquired through friends or family members. Informal networks of white people “hoard and distribute advantage among their family and friends, who tend to be mostly white” (The Atlantic). The result? Black college graduate unemployment rates are more than twice that of other graduates. Similarly, white trade school students receive job leads from white instructors, ensuring fewer Black students finding steady employment in their field (Work in Progress).

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Three-quarters of white people only have white friends (Washington Post). Since most jobs are acquired through word-of-mouth, all-white social networks reproduce workplace racial exclusion. Fields from firefighting to ornithology to construction are almost entirely colonized and gatekept by white social networks (American Sociological Association).
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If you find yourself in such spaces, the solution is not to recruit a token “diverse” member (Health, The Root). Tokenism is just another form of racism, since white supremacy already reduces people of color to our race or ethnicity. If you suspect you’re the token in your friend circle or club, it’s time to make new friends (Madame Noire).
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Instead, use your privilege to confront your peers’ racist beliefs or practices, especially when it’s uncomfortable or hard. If you think a hypothetical new member, coworker, or acquaintance of color would be tokenized, excluded, or put under suspicion, you have a responsibility to confront these attitudes now. You can put yourself in spaces where it’s you who are the minority, though only if you are able to do so with humility, self-awareness, and respect. If it makes sense, encourage your workplace to hire through open and actively anti-racist recruitment, not just word-of-mouth (Talent Beyond Boundaries, CNBC, Recruiter).
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As an Asian man, I know I will receive some opportunities others will not based purely on my race. I know that other opportunities will be closed off to me for the same reason, whether leads on apartments, favorable mentions to hiring managers, or invitations to social events. I know that this may influence my life outcomes, earnings, living conditions, and health even more than explicitly racist organizations or policies. And I know these represent a key way that racial hierarchies in the United States reproduce themselves generation after generation. Believing in anti-racism is simply not enough. We need to dismantle racial gatekeeping.

Key Takeaways

  • Mostly white hobbies like birding and knitting have experienced “racial reckonings” in the past year.

  • Though discussion of racism may be new in certain spaces, racially segregated networks, organizations, workplaces, and social circles are already “about race.”

  • Predominantly white social and professional networks play a key role in maintaining racial inequality.

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Tiffany Onyejiaka Nicole Cardoza Tiffany Onyejiaka Nicole Cardoza

Unpack “Black-on-Black crime”.

Aristotle said, “Poverty is the parent of revolution and crime” (Stanford Center on Poverty and Inequality). But in the wake of violence in impoverished Black communities, we often only hear the same refrain: “Why is no one doing anything about this?” The idea that nobody in Black communities works to stop community violence is racist, classist, and false.

It's Friday! Welcome back, and thanks so much for being a part of our community. I really like the perspective that Tiffany offers in today's piece; not only is the notion of "Black-on-Black crime" weaponized to minimize racial violence, it often fails to recognize the incredible work of local community organizers. As you read, consider: what has shaped your notion of the topics listed below? What do you need to learn or unlearn in your own community?

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Have a great day!

Nicole

TAKE ACTION

GET EDUCATED

By Tiffany Onyejiaka (she/her)

Aristotle said, “Poverty is the parent of revolution and crime” (Stanford Center on Poverty and Inequality). But in the wake of violence in impoverished Black communities, we often only hear the same refrain: “Why is no one doing anything about this?”

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The idea that nobody in Black communities works to stop community violence is racist, classist, and false.

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In 1979, Ebony magazine made the first reference to “Black-on-Black crime,” saying, “Although the black community is not responsible for the external conditions that systematically create breeding grounds for crime, the community has the responsibility of doing what it can to attack the problem from within” (ABC News). These conditions were created by American white supremacy, as the government’s own 1968 Kerner Commission acknowledged when it wrote, “White society is deeply implicated in the ghetto. White institutions created it, white institutions maintain it, and white society condones it” (Smithsonian).

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Commentators don’t bring up Black intra-community violence to change these conditions created by American racial capitalism (Truthout). And we never hear about white-on-white violence. The specter of “Black-on-Black crime” is not a sincere reckoning with the causes and effects of poverty and interpersonal violence in Black communities. It’s a racist dog whistle. More often than not, “Black-on-Black crime” is weaponized to deflect attention from anti-Black police violence.

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After a tragic weekend with over 100 shootings in Chicago (Block Club Chicago), Fox News host Geraldo Rivera tweeted, “It was most violent single day in 6 decades, per Chicago Sun Times. Will #BlackLivesMatters speak out? Will anyone kneel for them?” (Twitter). The killings are mentioned not to mourn the dead, but only to attack Black Lives Matter. If Rivera cared about those killed, he wouldn’t discuss them only to oppose a movement for racial justice.

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Historically, Black folks have been deemed lazy, unresourceful, and submissive (Smithsonian). To ask “why is nobody doing anything about this?” presumes that Black folks condone violence against their families, friends, and neighbors.

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When individuals and the media perpetuate the notion that Black people in low-income neighborhoods are indifferent to interpersonal violence, they also erase the work of community organizers across the country. If Rivera cared about Black intra-community violence, he would have taken a few minutes to research how Chicago activists banded together to address community violence (Block Club Chicago). He would have cited Black women-led groups like Chicago’s Mothers Against Senseless Killings (MASK) and Philadelphia’s Mothers in Charge (MIC). He would have talked about campaigns like Baltimore’s Safe Streets, where community members de-escalate violent events and prevent violence at the source (Safe Streets).

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Every day, people in inner cities work to eradicate violence in their communities. Groups like Operation Save Our City in Philly (Facebook), GoodKids MadCity in Chicago (GKMC), Take Back Our Streets in Oakland (Facebook), and Stand Up To Violence in the Bronx (Facebook) are all grassroots initiatives made up of people working to fight violence in their own communities. They receive minimal recognition and little acclaim. The majority of Americans simply don’t know they exist.

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These grassroots anti-violence organizations are led by members of low-income communities themselves. One reason they receive little attention is classism. To a middle-class audience, their campaigns may seem less “professional” or “respectable” than those run by nonprofits or college groups. Even in the realm of racial justice, Black organizations that have representation from middle- or upper-class backgrounds often garner more attention. But those most directly affected by social problems often have the best knowledge about how to set them right, even if they have access to minimal resources and power.

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The loss of independent news outlets is another barrier to learning about these community efforts. Independent outlets such as Block Club Chicago report on local organizing much more than national, mainstream publications. Supporting local, independent news led by writers of color can give exposure to the wonderful community organizations trying to help their neighborhoods thrive.
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After highly-publicized Black intra-community violence, “Why is nobody doing anything about this?” is the wrong question.
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We might consider some others:

“How can we support community organizations working on community violence?”

“How do we support activists beyond those we see on CNN or social media?”

“Why do organizations doing the most work on the ground get the least donations?”

“How can I help make sure all of the communities around me have the resources and safety their members need to thrive?”

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We can’t do that until we unpack the idea of “Black-on-Black violence.”

Key Takeaways

  • In every city across America, Black people (often without needed resources) find ways to combat community violence in different ways.

  • Classism and elitism still occur in activist spaces. Community-based organizations and activists without degrees or professional connections can be at risk of getting overlooked.

  • It’s important to read local and independent news and media to learn about community-based efforts that mainstream media misses.

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