Uproot workplace racism.

On Friday, NBC reported on a Glassdoor survey, which found the primary reason workers are excited to return to their workplaces is the opportunity to socialize with their coworkers (GlassDoor). But for employees of color, workplace socialization and communication are often taxing rather than restorative. Just 3% of Black remote workers want to return to the office, compared to 21% of their white peers.

TAKE ACTION

Recognize racist microaggressions and intervene when you witness them.
Subscribe to Anti-Racism at Work, our weekly email that offers tactical ways to transform the workplace.
Consider: How do I feel about my work environment? Could my coworkers with different identities feel differently? What kind of support do I and others need? How can I practice active solidarity with the people I work with?

GET EDUCATED

By Andrew Lee (he/him)

When one Black web developer learned of plans to work in-person again, she thought back to the “snide remarks, almost always about race” she endured before a year of remote work. “Some of it was intentional. Most of it was. A little of it was just sort of unconscious. All of it just wears on you. I was really upset.” Rather than return to her office to face more “jokes” about affirmative action and boats back to Africa, she decided to quit (NBC).

The microaggressions faced by employees of color include bigoted jokes, backhanded “compliments,” and offensive nicknames (BuzzFeed). See our previous piece on microaggressions. The psychic toll of such exchanges mean that workplaces can feel very different for white people and people of color. 21% of white workers wish to return to the office. In contrast, only 3% of Black workers want to do the same (Future Forum).

White workers are seven times more amenable to returning to office work than their Black colleagues because “they don’t have to deal with the microaggressions we do,” said marketing and public relations specialist Crystal Lowe. “Who wants to work in the office? I’d rather clean up dog poop” (NBC).

“Working from home has provided a sense of freedom from that,” explained Joseph B. Hill, managing partner of a diversity, equity, and inclusion firm. “But what this has highlighted is that some bold and courageous conversations have to take place inside these offices to make them welcoming for Black people” (NBC). Maybe your job is considering a return to in-person work. Perhaps your job falls within the half of American jobs that can't be performed remotely (Global Workplace Analytics). In any case, the wild disparities in attitudes towards returning to the office between Black and white workers demonstrates the urgency of starting such “bold and courageous conversations” in workplaces of any kind.

We should all feel compelled to intervene when we witness microaggressions on the job, especially those that don’t affect us directly. It can be tempting to avoid responsibility by second-guessing yourself about what you witnessed. You may wonder if you heard it correctly, if you have the authority to respond, or what the negative consequences might be for you should you decide to get involved (DiversityQ). But if a workplace is good for you only in equal measure to it being harmful to your coworkers from marginalized backgrounds, you’re already involved. In each instance, we all need to question, interrupt, and denounce discriminatory behavior while supporting those against whom it is directed. Rather than creating a culture of blame, responsible bystander intervention instead “creates a culture of accountability, and one that doesn’t tolerate harassment, microaggresions, or discrimination of any kind” (Idealist).

Ultimately, rooting out workplace racism requires structural change, as well. Workers of color also face longer commutes than white workers (Grist) because of economic inequalities, housing market racism, and gentrification (Teen Vogue), so returning to work in-person requires a greater sacrifice of unpaid commuting time each week for non-white workers. In the workplace, equity may require systemic changes like labor protections for marginalized workers (The Progressive, UCLA) and initiatives to create actively anti-racist workplaces at all levels (Times Up). We should demand that the places we work view anti-racism as integral to the work itself, and we should insist on racial, economic, and housing justice in the places we live. But while we should advocate for large-scale change, we don’t need to wait for it to take action ourselves. We can look the other way in the face of workplace microaggressions, or we can instead choose to advocate for ourselves and coworkers of marginalized backgrounds. We have a collective responsibility to uproot workplace racism.

Key Takeaways

Just 3% of Black remote workers want to return to the office, compared to 21% of their white peers.
Many workers of color face racial microaggressions at their jobs from co-workers and supervisors alike.
We need to take the initiative to disrupt racial microaggressions whenever we see them, including on the job.

Nicole Cardoza 7/19/21 Nicole Cardoza 7/19/21

Confront the weaponization of white women tears.

There’s a trend on Tiktok where women – mainly white women – record themselves crying, then changing their expression to a smirk, showing how quickly they can fake their tears. More on this trend in Nylon. These videos are being condemned for demonstrating a very real and dangerous history of white women using their emotions to vilify Black people and other people of color.

Happy Monday and welcome back to the Anti-Racism Daily! Over the past year, my social media algorithms have ultimately attuned themselves to all things racial equity. So I shouldn't have been surprised when two videos mentioned below appeared in my feed back-to-back. It made me remember how much of our history has been shaped by the weaponization of white women tears, and how we need to not just acknowledge it, but dismantle it.

Thank you for your support! This daily, free, independent newsletter is fully funded by contributions from our readers. Make a monthly or annual donation to join in, or give one-time on our website, PayPal or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza).

– Nicole

TAKE ACTION

Read “White Tears/Brown Scars: How White Feminism Betrays Women of Color” by Ruby Hamad.
Support #JusticeForEmmettTill and sign the petition to bring closure to the Emmett Till murder case.
Read our recommendations for recirculating videos of racial violence on social media.

GET EDUCATED

By Nicole Cardoza (she/her)

There’s a trend on Tiktok where women – mainly white women – record themselves crying, then changing their expression to a smirk, showing how quickly they can fake their tears. More on this trend in Nylon. These videos are being condemned for demonstrating a very real and dangerous history of white women using their emotions to vilify Black people and other people of color.

Consider another video also trending on Tiktok. This one is real: a woman is caught on camera physically attacking a Black Muslim woman in a store, only to break down crying, accusing the victim of attacking her. In the minutes that follow, the woman cries and screams, “get away from me,” while running towards the Black woman, who continues to back away (Complex).

This is just one of many recent examples of this practice, though. Amy Cooper called the police on a Black man who simply asked her to leash her dog, stating that he was “threatening her life” (NYTimes). A Starbucks employee called the cops on two Black men for “trespassing” while waiting for a friend (NBC News). Frustrated that the police didn’t come sooner, a white woman expressed she was scared by Black men barbecuing in the park (Newsweek).

But this practice is responsible for some of the most well-known injustices in our history. The Tulsa Race Massacre was sparked after Dick Rowland, an African American shoe shiner, accidentally stepped on the toe of Sarah Page, a white elevator, causing her to scream (OK History). And Emmett Till was just 14-years-old when he was brutally lynched in August 1955. Till was attacked because 21-year-old Carolyn Bryant, a white woman, accused him of making advances on her when he entered her family’s store to buy 2-cent bubble gum. The two men responsible – her husband and his half-brother – were acquitted (PBS). But in 2007, Bryant Donham (since remarried) confessed that she fabricated that part of her testimony (Vanity Fair). Despite this, Bryant Donham, who is still alive today, has not been charged with her complicity in the murder. Emmett Till’s birthday is July 25. He would be turning 80 years old. Learn more about the official foundation’s efforts to demand justice.

How did we get here? According to Wendy Brown in her book States of Injury, this stems from a practice that progressive moments have often centered the perspective of “wounded identities” (Princeton). Even though there are many wounded identities worth listening to in our society, the marginalization that white women experience – the “damsel in distress” narrative – is prioritized in our white supremacist culture. It’s also often weaponized by white men to justify racial discrimination (consider our article on pools from last week) (NYTimes). Some white women may use it unconsciously, familiar with the privilege of having their emotions come before another’s. But, as in the examples noted above, it’s often used intentionally to minimize accountability, deflect blame, or worse, inflict harm in scenarios where they know their whiteness grants them superiority. Ironically, it’s often used by the same people that will denounce acts of racism, unable – or perhaps unwilling – to see how power and privilege play in these situations. Ruby Hamad’s book, “White Tears/Brown Scars: How White Feminism Betrays Women of Color,” is a comprehensive resource to dive further.

Today, this violence is codified in the racial bias of algorithms and content moderators on social media platforms today. White women tears trended last month on Tiktok as the platform was banning content with terms “pro-Black”, “Black Lives Matter”, “Black success” and “Black people” (NME). Videos of violent encounters go viral across social media, but rarely do posts outlining the importance of acknowledging white fragility or dismantling white feminism. Although trending videos drive awareness, they continue to reiterate who is centered in the broader narrative around racism and systemic oppression. And in the process, they trigger those most impacted by this harm.

Remember that for every video that trends, there are dozens more of these scenarios happening offline - perhaps in your workplace, park, or local coffee shop. It shouldn’t take a victim to record the violent incident for them to be believed. Consider: how can you prioritize the needs of those experiencing harm? How can you be an active bystander for someone experiencing this type of attack? And how can you use your power and privilege to change this narrative? The TikTok trend may have started innocuously, but this practice is guilty of harming too many people of color. And until we dismantle it, our work to create a more equitable future will continue to get washed away.

Key Takeaways

A trend on Tiktok encouraging users to post videos of themselves fake crying has reignited conversations on how white women tears have been weaponized against communities of color.
Some of the significant historical injustices against Black people that we know of have been started by weaponized white women tears.
When white women weaponize their emotions to cause harm against people of color, they perpetuate the same systemic oppression they often claim to oppose.

RELATED ISSUES

5/21/2021 | Understand whiteness.

4/6/2021 | Unpack white feminism.

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Thank you for all your financial contributions! If you haven't already, consider making a monthly donation to this work. These funds will help me operationalize this work for greatest impact.

Subscribe on Patreon | Give one-time on PayPal | Venmo @nicoleacardoza

Nicole Cardoza 7/8/21 Nicole Cardoza 7/8/21

Learn about the “one-drop rule”.

Coming from a biracial family, I think it’s really important to understand mixed-race people’s experiences. As the National Museum of African American History and Culture puts it, “creating one’s racial identity is a fluid and nonlinear process that varies for every person and group” (NMAAHC). But the Museum’s website correctly adds, “In a racialized society like the United States, everyone is assigned a racial identity whether they are aware of it or not.” We should question The Atlantic’s claim that mixed-race people will cause the categories of whiteness and non-whiteness to become less significant over time.

Happy Thursday and welcome back to the Anti-Racism Daily. Our collective perception of race evolves over time. But racism won't evolve itself into extinction. That's going to take persistent action, not passively waiting for change. Today, Andrew reflects on the history of the "one-drop rule" and how mixed-race identities aren't the benchmark for change.

Two new things!

Our next Anti-Racism at Work email goes out this Monday! Subscribe to get a recap on how companies responded to Juneteenth and employees' hesitations to share their social justice efforts at work. Click this link (no need to enter your email again).
Our latest podcast with Lamar Shambley at Teens of Color Abroad highlights the role travel plays to bring us closer. Listen on Apple Podcasts or Spotify.

Thank you for your support! This daily, free, independent newsletter is made possible by your support. Make a monthly donation to support our team.

– Nicole

TAKE ACTION

Understand white supremacy as an evolving but ongoing system of oppression.
Reject arguments that whiteness and racism will naturally fade over time.
Take action alongside communities of color to dismantle racism in all forms.

GET EDUCATED

By Andrew Lee (he/him)

Earlier this month, The Atlantic published “The Myth of a Majority-Minority America,” which critiqued the idea that most Americans will soon be people of color. According to the article, America will only become a majority-minority country if we count mixed-race individuals as exclusively non-white. This binary thinking draws on the legacy of the Jim Crow-era “one-drop rule,” say the authors, and is a repetition of historic fears about non-Anglo European immigration which, of course, proved to be unfounded.

“Speculating about whether America will have a white majority by the mid-21st century makes little sense, because the social meanings of white and nonwhite are rapidly shifting,” they write. “The sharp distinction between these categories will apply to many fewer Americans” (The Atlantic).

According to the one-drop rule, people were Black if they had any Black ancestry. This meant people whose ancestors were mostly white were still enslaved and, later, subject to Jim Crow discrimination. The legacy of the one-drop rule is why some people are Black despite being light-skinned enough to pass as white (PBS). Acknowledging that people with mixed ancestry can still be identified as white or as people of color doesn’t endorse this way of thinking, but rather acknowledges its continuing effect on contemporary views of race.

White Americans resisted Irish and Italian mass immigration on both racial and religious grounds. Irish and Italian people were at first thought of as non-white, racially inferior peoples. Mobs burned Catholic churches and immigrant neighborhoods because Catholics were thought to practice cannibalism and other barbarities (History). Sicilians were thought to be inherently criminal because of racial defects (NY Times). Of course, both Irish and Italian Americans are now easily identified as white people. What changed wasn’t their physical characteristics but their position within the construct of whiteness.

But this didn’t mean that the distinction between white and non-white was erased in the early twentieth century. On the contrary, the price of admission to whiteness was for Irish and Italian immigrant communities to join in the oppression of their Black neighbors. As Protestant mobs attacked Irish neighborhoods, Irish immigrants took part in attacking Black neighborhoods (Irish Times).

The borders of racial categories are malleable, contested, and change over time. But believing that demographic changes will inevitably cause the racial hierarchy to fade away ignores centuries of evidence to the contrary. It veers dangerously close to endorsing the view that all we need to do to combat racism is wait.

We need to understand the history and present of American racism to fight its devastating effects on communities of color. This doesn’t mean racism is inevitable or will persist forever, but we need to take action to interrogate anti-Blackness, xenophobia, and anti-Indigeneity and the beliefs, institutions, and practices that enable them instead of waiting for racism to disappear.

Key Takeaways

Some experts believe increasing numbers of mixed-race Americans will cause racial distinctions to fade away.
This ignores the fact that racial categories are evolving social constructs while racism is an enduring social structure.
Demographic changes won’t end racism, only concerted individual and collective action to increase the power of dispossessed people and communities of color.

2/25/2021 | Reject racial fetishization.

12/8/2020 | Learn how to apologize.

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Nicole Cardoza 6/1/21 Nicole Cardoza 6/1/21

Travel ethically for inclusivity and belonging.

The travel industry, one of the most profitable, fastest-growing industries globally, is worth $8.9 trillion (World Travel and Tourism Council). In 2018, Black travelers spent $63 billion on global tourism, an enormous leap from $48 billion in 2010 (Mandala Research). Additionally, in 2001, the United States Travel Association (USTA) identified African Americans as the fastest-growing segment in the travel industry. With these numbers, it’s clear that Black travelers are ready, willing, and able to spend their money on experiences in their chosen destinations, yet we are treated like we don’t belong.

Happy Tuesday and welcome back to the Anti-Racism Daily! This Memorial Day weekend brought the most people to than airport in a single day since COVID-19 (Washington Post). Half of the U.S. population is now vaccinated, and many are eager to get their hot girl summers started. This resurgence is sure to transform the travel industry.

And this gives us new opportunities to create a space that's more inclusive for all travelers. Reneé shares her perspective of traveling as a Black woman, and offers ways that we can create safer opportunities for us all.

Our free, daily newsletter is made possible by our passionate team of readers that give one time or monthly to help sustain the work. If you want to support, give monthly on Patreon. Or, you can give one-time on our website or PayPal. You can also support us by joining our curated digital community.

Nicole

TAKE ACTION

Note: Please be sure to abide by all coronavirus precautions and best practices if you are considering traveling during this time.

Prioritize booking travel with companies led/represented by people of color and committed to equity and inclusion.
Consult Ethical Traveler to understand which countries are most ethical to travel to based on their infrastructure and dedication to human rights, the environment, and social welfare.
Honor the Indigenous communities that have stewarded the land you visit. Use Native Land to learn more about Indigenous communities across the world.
Know the difference between cultural appropriation and cultural appreciation, and make a point to respect cultural practices.
Speak up when you see or hear of discrimination against people of color while traveling.

GET EDUCATED

By Renée Cherez (she/her)

When we think about travel, we imagine a worry-free time without interrupting the “real world.” Unfortunately, this level of unadulterated escapism does not ring true for Black travelers.

A quick Google search of the terms ‘traveler’ or ‘solo female traveler’ and pages of young white women against picturesque backdrops of the turquoise ocean with pink sand or famous landmarks like the Taj Mahal appears. Absent are the faces of Black travelers who are most certainly traveling to destinations both near and far. Over the last decade, with the help of social media, the Black travel movement (a movement that encourages Black people – particularly Black millennials – to travel both domestically and abroad to build community while also immersing in other cultures) has grown to unprecedented numbers.

Over the last few years, more and more Black travelers have been vocal about the anti-Black racism they’ve experienced while traveling in various parts of the world. Black professionals who often fly first-class are notoriously assumed to be in the “wrong line” when they’re on the priority line solely based on their skin color (LEVEL).

Black women have to research their destination and whether or not they will be safe from racialized and gender-based violence. White supremacy has made it so that the sexualization of Black women is worldwide, causing many Black women to experience unwanted advances abroad from men who assume they are prostitutes. Ugandan-American Jessica Nabongo, the first Black woman documented to travel the world, shares her experience with safety as a Black woman:

“...[women] of color are in more danger because a lot of people think we are prostitutes… My fear is always that if something happens to me in a European city, no one will care. I could be running down the street screaming in Italy, and onlookers won’t care because I’m Black. I think this is true no matter where in the world we are.”

Jessica Nabongo, world traveler, for the New York Times

For years, Airbnb branded itself as a way for travelers to stay at or with locals in new places; however, said locals have discriminated against Black travelers on several occasions (Fast Company). Whether it was kicking them out without reason or not responding to their inquiries on their accommodations availability (Fortune).

Also worth noting, 15% of Black travelers stated racial profiling played a role in their destination travel decisions (Mandala Research).

In the travel industry, people of color have played a supporting role in the tourism space. In contrast, white travelers have been the lead actors, not only as travelers but also in leadership positions at marketing agencies and press trips, travel media outlets, and tourism boards. Black people, wherever they are in the world, have been painted as the “gracious host,” “the safari guide,” and “the individuals who need ‘saving’ from white volunteers” but are rarely represented as “the adventurers in far-off lands.”

This lack of representation plays a significant role in the anti-Black racism Black travelers face on the road. For example, if locals from a country have limited real-world experience with Black people, they can only rely on what they’ve seen in the media. This misconception is likely to affect Black travelers negatively. A solution to this is simple: real diversity and inclusive initiatives rooted in anti-racism with a commitment to amplifying Black travelers.

Racism in the travel industry stretches beyond the average Black traveler but impacts the entire industry. Black travel agents make up a mere 6% of agents, while white travel agents make up 72% of the space (Data USA). Luxury travel is primarily represented by white travelers, erasing the Black travelers, journalists, and creators who create luxury travel content. In the PR industry, white professionals make up 87.9% of the space, while Black professionals make up 8.3%, Latinos 5.7%, and Asians a measly 2.7% (Harvard Business Review). With the absence of diverse voices, the stories, reporting, and content created from these trips lack the nuance that Black, Indigenous, and people of color (BIPOC) can provide.

And this is particularly tense for the Asian community experiencing increased levels of anti-Asian racism because of COVID-19. The attacks earlier this year coincided with the Lunar New Year, which is one of the busiest travel times both across Asia and for the Asian community in the U.S. In an article for National Geographic, several travelers shared their hesitations on traveling in the future. But even before the pandemic, Asian people have been notably absent from executive positions and marketing campaigns (Washington Post).

Tourism boards must create marketing campaigns that reflect the diversity of the world, not the status quo. People of all kinds should be represented and celebrated in advertisements, not just light-skinned, slim, able-bodied, cis-gendered people. Diverse advertising in the travel industry has a two-fold result: it allows non-white travelers to feel welcome while showing locals that we, too, travel and deserve respect. Recent research shows travelers who identify as ethnic minorities (64%) and LGBTQ+ (67%) say the companies they book their travels with must be committed to inclusion and diversity practices (Accenture).

Like most industries, the travel industry is undergoing a reckoning. Black travelers and industry professionals demand real representation in the industry from the highest levels in leadership to the entry-level positions. Anti-racist policies must be adopted in the travel industry on a global scale to ensure Black travelers and Black locals are treated with the utmost care and respect post-COVID-19.

Key Takeaways

In 2018, Black travelers spent $63 billion on global tourism and are currently the fastest-growing segment in the travel industry.
Over the last few years, more and more Black travelers have been vocal about the anti-Black racism they’ve experienced while traveling in various parts of the world. It’s not uncommon that Black women are presumed to be prostitutes solely because of skin color.
People of color deserve to be seen, heard and respected in the travel industry, including marketing, executive leadership, and business ownership.

10/30/2020 | Don't be racist this Halloween.

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Nicole Cardoza 5/24/21 Nicole Cardoza 5/24/21

Analyze corporate commitments to racial equity.

But race is a social construct, and social constructs have social histories. Our The first place generating criticism is in financial commitments. Companies in the U.S. pledged a collective $50 billion to various racial initiatives (Financial Times), an unprecedented response to social issues (Washington Post). But, research indicates that only $250 million has actually been spent or committed to a specific initiative (Financial Times). William Cunningham, the chief executive of Creative Investment Research, who published the study, notes that until those funds are actually spent, there’s no reason they couldn’t be retracted or allocated to another initiative. Another survey found that tech companies that made commitments have 20% fewer Black employees on average than those that didn’t (Bloomberg), adding more skepticism to some organizations’ intentions.

Happy Monday, and welcome back to the daily newsletter! Today is a quick check-in on how corporate accountability has progressed since pledges made last year. I see this as an opportunity to both recognize pitfalls and explore the possibilities of where we can grow from here.

Thank you to everyone that supports our independent publishing! If you can, consider giving $7/month on Patreon. Or you can give one-time on our website or PayPal. You can also support us by joining our curated digital community. I'm grateful for your support!

Nicole

TAKE ACTION

Explore how major corporations have committed to racial equity using this tracker by Just Capital.
Use these instant downloads provided by Diverse City, LLC to improve your ERG group, navigate difficult conversations or address trauma at your workplace.
If you work at an organization, check in to see how any potential pledges have been implemented since last year.

GET EDUCATED

By Nicole Cardoza (she/her)

After the racial reckoning last summer, many companies quickly made broad public statements on how they can do better. But, one year later, research and testimony indicate that many haven’t lived up to their promises.

The first place generating criticism is in financial commitments. Companies in the U.S. pledged a collective $50 billion to various racial initiatives (Financial Times), an unprecedented response to social issues (Washington Post). But, research indicates that only $250 million has actually been spent or committed to a specific initiative (Financial Times). William Cunningham, the chief executive of Creative Investment Research, who published the study, notes that until those funds are actually spent, there’s no reason they couldn’t be retracted or allocated to another initiative. Another survey found that tech companies that made commitments have 20% fewer Black employees on average than those that didn’t (Bloomberg), adding more skepticism to some organizations’ intentions.

In addition, Jay Peters at The Verge adds context to the true amount of the commitments made by big tech companies. Although Apple’s commitment of $100 million, for example, sounds quite large, it’s relatively minuscule when considering that they made $6.3 million in profit every single hour last year (The Verge). This isn’t to discredit the clear impact that $100 million can make, but to emphasize how much more companies could do with lasting, consistent investment.

This graph, from the same The Verge article, adjusts corporate contributions to racial equity against the median U.S. salary of $63,179 to demonstrate how little, relatively, tech companies pledged.

Many also pledged to improve conditions internally by diversifying their talent pipeline, addressing barriers to employment eligibility, and increasing representation in the executive suite (Financial Times). But, a year later, many of those same large companies have yet to release their diversity metrics, making it challenging to quantify comprehensive change.

Ada*, a Black woman, watched this unfold at the financial services company she works for. The company publicly announced significant investments into companies owned by marginalized communities and plans to diversify its hiring practices. But the company has yet to share its metrics on hiring. “I’ve asked human resources for the data,” she explains, “but they say it’s tricky because they don’t have the accurate data. This makes no sense to me, considering they asked me my race/ethnicity on my job application.”

Khalia*, who worked in development at a national nonprofit organization, noted that her company made commitments to change internal culture last June. But, efforts that were implemented faded after a few months. “We had an ERG that met monthly to discuss areas where we could improve company culture. This space brought up a lot of things the executive leadership wasn’t aware of. But now, most of the people that initially joined don’t come to the meetings anymore, including those same leaders. It feels like an afterthought. And I don’t think we’ve actually changed anything for the better”. She ultimately left the organization because she desired a stronger commitment to the cause.

This scrutiny is compounded when considering how companies invested in equity initiatives before last summer. Because of COVID-19, jobs with titles like “chief diversity officer,” “diversity and inclusion recruiter,” or “D&I program manager” fell nearly 60 percent between early March and early June, according to the careers site Glassdoor (Washington Post). In comparison, jobs overall fell by 28%, and human resources roles fell by 49%, demonstrating that many companies felt like this was the best place to reduce costs. Since the murder of George Floyd and the subsequent protests, diversity job postings are surging. But filling the position isn’t enough; experts warn that these can be performative hires if leaders aren’t empowered and supported to guide corporate change (Axios).

Individuals, often employees of color, have taken on the task of carrying this work forward, regardless of their company’s investment. Ada has been intentional about incorporating initiatives to address systemic oppression and racism with her team, which she believes increases feelings of belonging and solidarity. “We have ongoing conversations, book clubs, watch movies, etc. My team has said that they look forward to it because they don’t have that outlet anywhere else.”

But individual employees aren’t the only ones taking note. Shareholders at major companies are pressuring executive leadership to perform racial audits for transparency and accountability (Forbes). Of seven big Wall Street banks, six urged shareholders to reject the proposals, despite the deep history of racial inequity in the financial sector (Inequality). Shareholders at Amazon, which is facing a slew of new allegations of racism and discrimination through its product offering and working conditions, are expected to vote on a racial audit on May 26 (Forbes).

Nevertheless, it’s important to recognize that all progress made so far – and how far we have to go has happened because each of us raise our voices and rally for change. “The only reason companies cared is because their employees did,” said Ada. “If people continue the momentum, there will be more accountability.” As the summer unfolds, continue to hold the organization you may work for, buy from, and engage with accountable to shift culture, both for employees and broader society.

We’d love to hear from our Black, Indigenous, and other readers of color: how has the company you work for respond to the events last year? How has it changed your experience working at your company? Reply to this email with your thoughts.

*Names have been changed.

Key Takeaways

As we approach one year since the racial reckoning of last summer, individuals and shareholders are scrutinizing the pledges made by major corporations to addressing racial equity
Over $50B was pledged by major corporations to racial equity initiatives, but so far, an estimated $250M has been committed
A growing number of shareholders are voting for their corporations to perform racial audits for accountability

10/4/2020 | Don't blame the pipeline.

2/1/2021 | Honor Black History Month with action.

PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT

Nicole Cardoza 5/21/21 Nicole Cardoza 5/21/21

Understand whiteness.

But race is a social construct, and social constructs have social histories. Our modern understanding of race was created at a specific historical juncture in colonial Virginia. Prior to that, it did not exist.

It's Friday! Welcome back to the Anti-Racism Daily. Ta-Nehisi Coates, author of "Between the World and Me," says that "race is the child of racism, not the father." Put simply, racism created the social construct of race that perpetuates racial bias and discrimination to this date. Andrew shares a bit more about the history of race in the U.S. and more resources to learn about the formation of whiteness.

Thank you to everyone that supports our independent publishing! If you can, consider giving $7/month on Patreon. Or you can give one-time on our website or PayPal. You can also support us by joining our curated digital community. I'm grateful for your support!

Nicole

TAKE ACTION

Learn about the social and historical construction of whiteness.
Educate yourself about the benefits of whiteness, provided by the National Musuem of African American History and Culture.
Take steps to disrupt and abolish race and whiteness.
Consider: How does being white grant certain privileges? How might white people experience oppression through other social identities, e.g., class, gender, sexual orientation, religion, ability, etc.?

GET EDUCATED

By Andrew Lee (he/him)

There’s a general conception of racism that goes something like this: just as some people are naturally short or tall, we are all born into one race or another. Racism is unfair discrimination, but the racial categories themselves are natural and universal. Just as we might imagine someone in Shakespeare’s England or the 16th century Mali Empire being short or tall, we would imagine that person fitting into one of the modern U.S. census’s racial categories.

This doesn’t mean that everyone previously looked the same. If those subjects of the Mali Empire and Elizabethan England met, they would have recognized differences in skin pigmentation or eye color or any number of other things.

Similarly, I notice people’s heights. But I do not have a mental map that divides people into either The Talls or The Shorts. I do not think of The Talls and The Shorts as two different sorts of human beings. I do not immediately make a subconscious decision on whether someone I am talking to sight unseen is either A Tall or A Short person. And our society isn’t designed to universally provide one of these groups of people more power, privilege and opportunity than the other. This is an absurd example, but we all make instant judgments of this sort concerning race. Not necessarily because we are racist, but because race is a fundamental feature of social life in ways the fictitious Tall/Short division is not.

In colonial Virginia, landowners brought workers from England, Ireland, and countries across Africa to cultivate tobacco. These enslaved or forced laborers were poorly treated, and none had many rights, but African and European laborers were treated largely the same. African laborers able to acquire their freedom could exercise voting rights in the colonial legislature, accumulate wealth, and hire European laborers. People of African and European ancestry intermingled and intermarried without penalty and there is no evidence that they thought of themselves as members of two great camps of Black and white people (Understanding Race).

But after African and European servants joined forces in 1676’s Bacon’s Rebellion, the colonial legislature began passing laws to make such solidarity impossible in the future. The rights of African people were reduced until African descent was synonymous with slavery. On the other hand, a new category appeared: white. For the first time, people who might have been referred to as Christian, or English, or Scottish, or Swedish were all lumped together under this new name. Even the poorest white person now had greater rights than any enslaved African.

“What colony leaders were doing was establishing unequal groups and imposing different social meanings on them,” said Audrey Smedley. “As they were creating the institutional and behavioral aspects of slavery, the colonists were simultaneously structuring the ideological components of race” (Understanding Race).

Much later, when mass Irish immigration began in the 19th century, Irish people were not yet considered properly white. Racial stereotypes about Irish people abounded in popular media. For Anglo-Americans, the Irish were thought of as being much closer to Black people than to whites. Black people were even referred to as “smoked Irish.”

Irish Americans today are a nationality firmly within the universe of whiteness. What changed wasn’t any physical characteristic of Irish people but rather their political position within American white supremacy. Irish Americans largely rejected calls by nationalist leaders like Daniel O’Connell to join forces with Black people, instead of opposing abolition and acting “unabashedly American in the way they dealt with the slavery controversy” (Irish Times).

“Essentially what happened was the Irish became white,” said scholar Noel Ignatiev. “To the extent to which they could prove themselves worthy of being white Americans–that is, by joining in gleefully in the subjugation of Black people–they showed that they belonged… Having fair skin made the Irish eligible to be white, but it didn’t guarantee their admission. They had to earn it” (Z Magazine).

Whiteness is a social construct, but that doesn’t mean we can just wish it away. Police officers and Lutheranism and Thursdays are also social constructs, but we can’t snap our fingers and make any of them disappear, either. Your non-belief in police officers won’t help you when you get pulled over; if you choose to ignore Thursdays you’ll always have the wrong day of the week. To say something is a social construct implies it has not always existed and could exist otherwise or not at all. Nonetheless, there are practices, policies, and institutions that make social constructs real, powerful, and potentially deadly while they exist.

Ignatiev’s suggestion was to instead work collectively towards the abolition of whiteness, meaning the destruction of those privileges associated with being part of the “club” of whiteness. “The white race is like a private club based on one huge assumption: that all those who look white are, whatever their complaints or reservations, fundamentally loyal to the race. We want to dissolve the club, to explode it” (LA Times).

It is not just that some white people or institutions are racist but rather that the category of whiteness in the United States has always had racial oppression as its function. To “explode the club of whiteness” does not require self-pity and hand-wringing by self-proclaimed white allies. If the fundamental assumption of whiteness is that all white people–neighbors, bosses and employees, police officers and civilians, family members or strangers on the street–have some basic loyalty to each other, a more powerful response would be to break the color line, practicing disloyalty to whiteness in favor of loyalty to humanity.

Understand, unpack, and abolish whiteness.

Key Takeaways

We often think of racism as unjust discrimination between objective racial categories.
In fact, categories like “white” didn’t always exist. Whiteness was created as a legal category in colonial Virginia to prevent lower-class solidarity.
Racial categories have always been part of a racial hierarchy.
To interrupt racism, we need to disrupt whiteness, including white intra-racial solidarity at the expense of people of color.

RELATED ISSUES

3/19/2021 | Divest from whiteness.

12/21/2020 | Have tough conversations.

10/9/2020 | Learn about slavery and the White House.

PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT

Nicole Cardoza 5/7/21 Nicole Cardoza 5/7/21

Advocate for critical race theory education.

Yesterday, the governor of Idaho signed a bill into state law designed to prevent critical race theory from being taught in schools and universities. Specifically, the law bans discourse on the notion that any members of any race, sex, religion, ethnicity, or national origin are inferior or superior to other groups and that certain groups benefit from privileges based on society’s perception of their identity (The Guardian). A similar law was also enacted this week in Tennessee, and other states – including Texas, Missouri, Oklahoma and Florida – have proposed to do the same.

It's Friday! Welcome back to the Anti-Racism Daily. We briefly touched on this topic last fall, but as the conversations heat up again in schools, it's important to revisit the foundation of critical race theory. If you're reading this email, you're already familiar with the framework – we touch on many of the themes regularly. Take action to protect this necessary curriculum in schools.

This newsletter is possible because of our gracious supporters! Consider giving $7/month on Patreon. Or you can give one-time on our website or PayPal. You can also support us by joining our curated digital community. Thank you to all those that support!

Nicole

TAKE ACTION

The Department of Education has a list of proposed priorities for creating a more culturally-responsive American History and Civics Education. They are requesting public comments from the community to gauge sentiment. Take a few minutes to review the curriculum and leave a (positive) review. The majority are negative.
Read this introduction to critical race theory to get a comprehensive overview.
Research specific bills that have been proposed or passed in your state, and the best way to take action.
Consider: How has your education so far informed your perspective on racism and systemic oppression? If you experienced institutionalized education, what has it contributed to what you know now?

GET EDUCATED

By Nicole Cardoza (she/her)

This is the latest iteration of a long conservative tirade against the notion of educating on race in schools and organizations, accelerated by the Trump administration. Former President Trump wielded conservative sentiment around critical race theory to his advantage, using his platform to admonish the idea of diversity and inclusion trainings, the 1619 Project, and talking about racism in school (PBS). During its time, the Trump administration passed an executive order banning the federal government and its contractors from using curriculum that examined systemic racism, which was reversed by the Biden administration immediately after taking office (USA Today).

A common refrain against introducing critical race theory in schools is that it “indoctrinates” kids into racism. But in reality, critical race theory is a framework designed to help identify and understand how racism plays a part in our society. It helps provide insight and understanding of how racism can be studied, processed, and dismantled. It was created during the 1970s by a group of lawyers, activists, and legal scholars. Although it began as a theory for legal studies, critical race theory is widely taught and studied across disciplines, including education, sociology, and medicine (Critical Race Theory).

There are six key tenets to critical race theory:

Racism is a normalized and commonplace part of society. It is not just reflected in individual actions but embedded in our cultural and political practices and systems.
Consequently, whiteness is a “property” – something with tangible value – that offers white people unearned privileges and opportunities not afforded to people of color at the same level, like access to wealth, safety from law enforcement, opportunities for academic success, etc.
Because of this, the notion that all are treated equally, and have the same rights and opportunities, is a myth, challenging concepts like colorblindness and meritocracy.
Since racism benefits those with power and privilege, there is little incentive to solve it – unless it benefits both people of color and dominant members of society. This is also referred to as “interest convergence.”
Intersectionality is critical for understanding racism. Everyone has intersecting identities based on their racial/ethnic background, socioeconomic status, gender identity, etc., which means that each person experiences racism in unique ways.
The personal experiences of people of color are worthy and legitimate forms of discourse in the conversations on racism, especially when countering the default narrative.

There are several variations of critical race theory that focus on specific ethnic/racial groups, or intersectionalities within ethnic/racial groups – including critical race feminism (CRF), Latino critical race studies (LatCrit), Asian American critical race studies (AsianCrit), South Asian American critical race studies (DesiCrit), American Indian critical race studies (TribCrit), and disability critical race studies (DisCrit).

Our social world, with its rules, practices, and assignments of prestige and power, is not fixed; rather, we construct with it words, stories and silence. But we need not acquiesce in arrangements that are unfair and one-sided. By writing and speaking against them, we may hope to contribute to a better, fairer world.

– Critical Race Theory: The Cutting Edge (Third Edition)

If you’ve been reading this newsletter for some time, you’ll notice that we cover all of these topics regularly. Explore our archives to find many of these topics covered in previous newsletters. And if you’re interested, you can find a more comprehensive overview of critical race theory here.

When understood from this lens, it’s clear how necessary this discourse is within our schools and universities. Like any other subject, racism needs theory to help understand it in practice. And students are already learning about racism in practice, whether it’s on the syllabus or not. If they are a person of color, they are impacted by it directly. And either way, it’s unlikely they do not hear about racist incidents through the news, social media, or other aspects of their everyday lives. I think our youth are due, at minimum, a framework for contextualizing the world they live in.

This conservative attack isn’t just for the sake of education but one of many attempts to delegitimize the notion of racism and, consequently, the policies and practices to change that. We must advocate for this, not just in education, but normalized in all aspects of our society. As Justice Harry Blackmun stated, “in order to get beyond racism, we must first take account of race. There is no other way.”

Key Takeaways

States across the country have proposed or passed legislation to ban critical race education in schools and universities
Developed in the 1970s, critical race theory is a framework created by activists and scholars to understand how racism persists in the U.S.
This is part of a broader campaign to discredit the concept of racism and its influence in U.S.

9/7/2020 | Learn about critical race theory.

9/21/2020 | Support the 1619 Project.

PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT

Nicole Cardoza 3/30/21 Nicole Cardoza 3/30/21

Support the mental health of students of color.

Everyday, millions of minority students suffer in silence, struggling to cope with the formidable hurdles they face on their path to receiving a higher education. Combating direct and indirect racial discrimination is an all-encompassing battle that continually dares people of color to survive. Carrying this weight while balancing a rigorous curriculum can often come at a serious cost to the mental health and well-being of students of color. In addition to this, the pandemic and the rise in white extremist violence and police brutality has added more strain to the life of students of color. This college mental health crisis is only exacerbated by the lack of support students of color receive from their institutions who fail to provide sustained efforts for equity, and the tangible resources needed to thrive (The Steve Fund Crisis Report).

Happy Tuesday! Today is publication day for my first book, which offers accessible mindfulness resources for kids. I've spent the past decade working in schools to help mitigate the impact of what we're discussing today: the difficult emotions that students are processing while trying to get an education. I'm grateful that Kholiswa shared her perspective based on her experience.

This newsletter is a free resource made possible by our supporters. We'd love you to consider making a monthly recurring donation on our website or Patreon. You can also give one-time on PayPal or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza). Thank you for all your support!

Nicole

TAKE ACTION

If you need mental health care, visit findtreatment.samhsa.gov or call 800-622-HELP (4357).
Petition local school boards to hire more counselors and advisors of color to help support students of color who have mental health needs related to exposure to racism. 14 million kids go to school that has cops, but no counselors.
Donate to Active Minds, a nonprofit that partners with students on campus to address mental health.
Visit the Equity in Mental Health website and support by donating to The Steve Fund and The Jed Foundation—partners in the Equity in Mental Health Framework—to support the advancement of programs and services dedicated to supporting the emotional wellbeing and mental health of young people of color nationwide.

GET EDUCATED

By Kholiswa Mendes Pepani (she/her)

While transitioning to college is a challenging time for all who are privileged enough to experience it, the adjustment is even tougher for students of color, particularly those who arrive from low-income backgrounds and are first-generation college students. Most college campuses that are not historically Black carry legacies and traditions indicative of white supremacy. From buildings named after racist figures to the white students who go unpunished for racist acts, the message being sent to students of color reverberates clearly, you do not belong here (The Hechinger Report).

The alienation of entering a space inherently designed for white students is only worsened by incidents of racial discrimination from peers and the institutions themselves. Students of color have, for years, been reporting incidents of racial hostility both subtle and blatant that includes microaggressions, racist vandalism, verbal slurs, and physical assaults (Inside Higher Ed). Such incidents are compounded by a lack of intervention from institutions that fail to condemn or address racism on their campuses. Take Colbie Lofton—a Black student at the Appalachian State University—for instance, in 2018 on the first week of class, Lofton sat in her macroeconomics class and proceeded to ask her professor a question. Behind her, she heard some of her white classmates make the racist comment, “I guess n*****s don’t understand.”

Lofton was unaware of the process of reporting the comment to her university and kept the disturbing insults to herself and neither did her college professor have the heart to take up for her. This left Lofton with the heightened awareness that there are deep prejudices that some people hold against Black people and therefore left her feeling unwelcome and ‘out of place’ in a predominately white school. More often than not, students who are struggling with racism on campus are left feeling invalidated, ignored, and undervalued by administrators who minimize the experiences or redirect injured parties to seek reparation through bureaucratic and time-consuming processes, especially those campuses that cater mostly to white students (Inside Higher Ed).

Many students have stories of being called a racial slur directly or seeing it through racist posts by students on social media. But these types of incidents don’t only happen on college campuses. It also exists in high schools as well. In April 2020, two Georgia high school students posted a disturbing, racist video on TikTok that implies the contents that Black people are made up of. Some of the words and phrases used include ‘Black,’ ‘don’t have a dad,’ ‘rob people,’ ‘go to jail,’ and the last comment implies that Black people always make bad choices (New York Times). Though the students were expelled, there were no evident steps taken to ensure the mental wellness of their black schoolmates was taken care of. It is people who think and act like this who helped ignite the national racial movement, Black Lives Matter.

The outrage over the police killings of George Floyd and other unarmed Black people has given the students’ cause momentum and has forced school administrators to act with urgency and speak out against racism and implement diversity, equity, and inclusion initiatives. But the efforts of these students have come with a heavy price. During the 2020 protests, two Black college students were repeatedly stunned by tasers and arrested for being in traffic past the nine o’clock mandated curfew. The students were tased because officers felt like they might have had a gun. Turns out the two students were unarmed and were simply driving by the chaotic protests near downtown Atlanta. Later in an interview after the students were released from jail, they said that they felt like they were going to die and that, “it was a blessing that they are still alive.”

The mental healthcare problem in universities has been further exposed by the global pandemic as COVID-19 has cast light on the deeply ingrained racial inequalities that exist in American society. In a recent study done by the United Negro College Fund, one student described their experience saying, “Dealing with COVID-19, the police brutality, and trying to come up with money to pay for fall semester is [causing] me a lot of stress and anxiety because either way, it’s the stress of trying not to get sick, not getting killed by police or finding a way to pay for school that has me on edge (UNCF Student Pulse Survey).”

Thriving under these conditions is not just exhausting, but also psychologically destructive. These adverse conditions mean that Black and brown students experience depression, anxiety disorders, burnout, and other mental illnesses at a rate higher than their white peers (The Harvard Gazette). Studies show that students of color are more likely to feel overwhelmed at college and keep their struggles to themselves. Before the pandemic began, twenty-three percent of Asian-American students, twenty-six percent of Black students, and thirty-three percent of Latino students with mental health problems sought treatment versus the forty-six percent of white students (The Steve Fund Crisis Report).

The rejection and lack of trust and belonging felt by students of color create huge barriers in their ability to seek help from their institutions. In addition to this, the cost, lack of access to counselors of color, and the stigmas associated with therapy prevent minority students from getting the life-saving care they need (The Atlantic). John Silvanus Wilson, former president of Morehouse College, describes how this student health crisis puts an emphasis on getting colleges to foster an environment that allows students of color to feel safe.

“This really brings into focus the institutional responsibility,” Wilson says “If I don’t believe you want me here, I’m not inclined to come in and use your services. So trust is how this is going to change.” (The Harvard Gazette)

To close the divide between students of color and wellness, organizations like The Steve Fund are committed to working with universities to promote programs that build understanding and assistance for the mental and emotional health of young people of color. This task force recommends that institutions take a ‘trauma-informed response’ to decision-making to show empathy and build trust with students of color (The Steve Fund Crisis Report).

The subtle and often seamless ways illnesses like depression and anxiety work their way into the mind leaves people feeling dangerously isolated within the mental anguish they experience. One bad day quickly becomes a bad week that begins to feel like a bad life. Seeking help when struggling with feelings of depression and anxiety is the only remedy to an illness that wants to swallow you in a quicksand of grief, panic, self-loathing and suicidal ideation. If you are currently struggling with mental illness, please know that it is nothing to be ashamed of. Mental illness is a disease and one that you can survive. If you or anyone you know is struggling to cope with feelings of depression and anxiety, please reach out for help. You are not weak and you are certainly not alone.

KEY TAKEAWAYS

Students of color are at a higher risk for developing mental health issues due to systemic racism and intergenerational trauma.
The systemic inequalities and racism on college campuses leave minority students feeling alienated and mentally overwhelmed.
Students of color are less likely to seek help from academic institutions due to a lack of trust and belonging.

RELATED ISSUES

3/17/2021 | End standardized testing.

10/19/2020 | Support restorative justice in schools.

8/17/2020 | Fight for equity in remote learning.

PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT

Nicole Cardoza 3/12/21 Nicole Cardoza 3/12/21

Close the life expectancy gap.

Happy Friday and welcome back to the Anti-Racism Daily. A year ago yesterday, the World Health Organization declared coronavirus as a global pandemic (NPR). Since then, so much of our lives have forever changed. Its impact in the U.S. didn't just exacerbate the existing disparities in our country, but create new and distinct issues that directly affected our wellbeing. And it's evident in the latest data on life expectancy. Hannah shares more in today's newsletter.

And just a quick personal note – grief is not linear. Give yourself grace with any feelings or sensations that might be arriving with the one-year marker of an event that turned our lives around. There's no right way to heal from this, only the way that is right for you. I'm sending you all the love for what's been lost this year, and all that there is to discover in the days ahead.

This newsletter is a free resource made possible by our paying subscribers. Consider giving $7/month on Patreon. Or you can give one-time on our website, PayPal, or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza). You can also support us by joining our curated digital community. Thank you to all those that have contributed!

Nicole

TAKE ACTION

Explore the Kaiser Family Foundation to advocate for health reform; push for medicaid expansion and learn about the causes of the life expectancy gap and what is needed to reverse it in your state through the Health Resources & Services Administration and the Office of Minority Health at the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services.
Use resources from the Equal Justice Initiative website to dissect America’s racist roots and learn how to be engaged in the current fight for equal rights.
Support the People’s Institute for Survival and Beyond with a charitable contribution, and attend one of their community workshops—whether in person or virtually. The Institute seeks to organize diverse networks of people in order to understand and undo racism on a personal and global level.
Watch The Essentials documentary that addresses health equity and immigrant health at the Center for Health Progress website.

GET EDUCATED

By Hannah Edmondson (she/her)

In the United States, great expectations within the healthcare sector are not endowed to everyone. Black and Brown populations have continued to fall behind the average life expectancy of white populations—a chasm that has widened considerably in the wake of COVID-19. Though recent years saw a shrink in the gap between Black and white lifespans in the U.S., the pandemic brought the difference to its widest breadth since 1998 (Intelligencer). In 2020, the average life expectancy for white Americans decreased by 0.8 years, but Latino and Black populations dipped more notably, losing 1.9 years and 2.7 years, respectively (NPR). This shocking statistic does not boil down to genetics or biological fitness, but rather economics.

The pandemic has killed one in every 645 Black Americans, but as of March 1, only seven percent of COVID-19 vaccine recipients have been Black (Now This News). This goes to show that access to medical care is not dictated by actual need; instead, it is a matter of privilege, leaving Black and Brown Americans to scramble for resources that should be readily available. There are several factors behind the burgeoning lifespan disparity throughout the pandemic, but they each share a common denominator: racism. Insufficient access to healthcare in the United States is bemoaned by working-class citizens across the board, but the brunt of its effects are absorbed by Black and Brown families.

Sickle cell disease sheds a light on the deeply entrenched prejudice that plagues the U.S. healthcare system. The disease predominantly affects Black individuals; on average, one in thirteen Black children are born with the sickle cell trait (CDC). The disease is inherited and requires intensive, regular care in order to be treated properly. In this way, it is similar to cystic fibrosis, a disease which occurs most commonly among white Americans. However, cystic fibrosis receives significantly more funding and national attention, with new treatments being approved regularly over the past decade. The issue at hand is proven to be a matter of access rather than intel as a majority of sickle cell patients are forced to go without even the earliest sickle cell treatments (KHN).

According to a study conducted in 2009, the average life expectancy of Black men and women was seventy-five years of age, mirroring the average life expectancy of white populations in 1979 (Business Insider). The fact that Black American lives are set back nearly thirty years when compared to the well-being of white counterparts is telling. The gap in life expectancy cannot be chalked up to violence or mere coincidence, though, as this lag in Black survival is largely a product of the U.S. healthcare system. The evidence shows a marked swell in the gap between Black and white life expectancy during the 1980s, demonstrating the dramatic impact of the AIDS crisis on communities of color. The latest national health crisis—the COVID-19 pandemic—has similarly ravaged BIPOC while leaving white populations with significantly fewer fatalities.

While the difference in life expectancy between ethnic groups has gradually grown less severe, the underlying cause remains. Black and Brown communities are too often barred from receiving quality care on account of financial setbacks and discriminatory legislation. Residential segregation leaves Black and Hispanic neighborhoods without conveniently-located hospitals and healthcare facilities (TCF). Most U.S. cities and suburbs reflect the racist tactics of city planners throughout the twentieth century. Nonetheless, these geographic barriers stand strong to this day, effectively keeping white communities comfortably within their privilege.

The economic inequality that has plagued BIPOC since America’s origination ultimately leads to health inequality, perpetuating the lower life expectancy among non-white persons (Intelligencer). Adequate healthcare requires ample funding, and Medicaid patients are rarely prioritized over wealthy clients able to fully cover their medical expenses. The United States continually shirks the possibility of socialized healthcare in favor of maintaining privatized, for-profit institutions, making it exceedingly difficult for low-income patients to receive proper care. On average, Black families devote twenty percent of their annual household income to medical expenses; that portion is only half as much for most white families (TCF). Systemic racism in the U.S. works to ensure that the nation’s lowest-income communities are disproportionately Black and Brown. Until this economic inequality is dissolved, non-white citizens seeking decent healthcare will be consigned to the bottom of the waitlist.

The economic challenges facing BIPOC undoubtedly heighten the risk of health issues, as proper nutrition and safe housing are simply not affordable. The dog-eat-dog ideology that has come to undergird the American Dream serves only those who are currently in power—namely, affluent white people. Furthermore, unemployment insurance rates are significantly lower in Southern states with high concentrations of Black inhabitants. This practice of state-controlled unemployment benefits dates back to the New Deal; Southern politicians rallied to keep Black workers within their home states oppressed, crafting their unemployment rates to withhold vital government funds from non-white laborers (RAND). This long-standing power imbalance leaves people of color with little upward mobility. Proper healthcare, then, is a luxury reserved for those at the top. This discrepancy is why Black women are three times more likely to die of pregnancy-related causes than white women (TCF). Non-white lives are treated with less reverence because the racist foundation of the United States insists upon the preservation of one population at the expense of all others.

Statistics continue to prove that this antiquated, bigoted ideology is not yet weeded out of the healthcare system; moreover, it steals Black and Brown lives in staggering numbers. In spite of the grim reality, the Affordable Care Act has made a noteworthy stride towards equality. The ACA extended coverage to over twenty million Americans, 2.8 million of whom are Black (AJPH). While this shows a step toward improved medical access regardless of race or class, it is only one minor victory amid a war that will likely drag on for decades to come. Major changes are required in order for society to represent and protect all of its members equally. Privilege should not determine one’s right to survival, but in America it certainly seems to be the case.

KEY TAKEAWAYS

COVID-19 has brought attention to the inequality of U.S. healthcare–a system which has never adequately served minority populations.
The life expectancy gap between BIPOC and white Americans is a result of the social and economic policies that have oppressed non-white citizens for centuries. This gap, contrary to popular belief, cannot be shrunk by the determination of working class individuals alone.
In order to wage a social contract that protects people of every race and economic standing, the existing institutions that govern American society should be deconstructed and purged of their racist tactics.
A healthcare system that benefits all people equally will not be implemented without major political action.

PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT

Nicole Cardoza 2/15/21 Nicole Cardoza 2/15/21

Advocate for Black immigrants.

Last week, the Biden administration deported 72 people, including a two-month-old baby and 22 other children, back to Haiti (The Guardian). Advocates for immigrants approximate that over 900 Haitians have been deported in the weeks prior (Washington Post). This, paired with other recent efforts that disproportionately impact Black immigrants, has spurred advocates to call for accountability on the racial disparities in an unjust system.

Happy Monday and welcome back to the Anti-Racism Daily. We're drawing attention to the work of several Black-led organizations that are highlighting the racial disparities in our immigration system. Follow their work and amplify within your networks.

Thank you all for your contributions! This newsletter is made possible by our subscribers. Consider giving $7/month on Patreon. Or you can give one-time on our website or PayPal. You can also support us by joining our curated digital community.

Nicole

TAKE ACTION

Donate to the Black Immigrant Bail Fund in their mission to eradicate the mass incarceration of Black immigrants.
Act for immigrants from Mauritania, sign onto a letter calling for their protected status. Learn more about why immigrants from Cameroon also require protected status.
Follow and support these Black immigrant advocates and organizers: @HaitianBridge @UndocuBlack @OfficialBLMP @BAJITweet.
Action items provided by the Movement for Black Lives.

GET EDUCATED

By Kashea McCowan (she/her)

Haiti is in the midst of roiling political turmoil. Its president, Jovenel Moïse, is refusing to step down after opposition called for him to step down on February 7 (The Guardian). The United Nations, the Organization of American States, and the Biden Administration all support his plan to remain in office until 2022. However, as protests mount, citizens and human rights activists are worried about the people’s safety.

Similar unrest threatens other Black immigrants being targeted by ICE. Over 40,000 immigrants from Cameroon are at risk of deportation while the country reels from multiple ongoing conflicts. Activists call for the government to offer these immigrants Temporary Protected Status, abbreviated as TPS (Clinic Legal). A similar effort is underway to protect Black Mauritanian immigrants, who are in fear of returning to a country with rampant “police violence, slavery, human trafficking, genocide, restrictions on free speech and association, discrimination in education and access to citizenship and identity documents, and racism and repression” (Ignatian Solidarity Network).

Furthermore, advocates emphasize that these expulsions are happening amid the pandemic, rising unemployment, and just weeks after the Biden administration pledged to improve immigration policies in their first 100 days. On Friday, the administration announced that they would allow approximately 25,000 migrants who have been waiting for months in Mexico under a program called the Migrant Protection Protocols, or MPP, to enter the U.S. as soon as next week. Lawmakers expressed concern that ICE is “disparately targeting Black asylum-seekers and immigrants for detention, torture, and deportation” (Washington Post).

“

It is unconscionable for us as a country to continue with the same draconian, cruel policies that were pursued by the Trump administration.

Guerline Jozef, Executive Director of Haitian Bridge Alliance, for The Guardian

There’s historical data that shows the disparities that Black immigrants face. Although most media attention on immigration centered on the Latinx community, RAICES Texas found that 44% of families in detention during the pandemic were Haitian (RAICES Texas). While 7% of non-citizens in the U.S. are Black, they make up a full 20% of those facing deportation on criminal grounds, even though there’s no evidence that Black immigrants commit crime at greater rates than other immigrants or U.S-citizens (Black Alliance for Just Immigration). While detained, Black immigrants are six times more likely to be sent to solitary confinement (RAICES Texas).

Black families are not just being detained more often, but ICE also makes it more difficult for them to be released. The bond system allows some immigrants in detention to be released if they can pay thousands of dollars in fees. RAICES Texas, which runs a fund that pays for bail on immigrants’ behalf, found that between June 2018 and June 2020, they paid $10,500 per bond payment, on average. But bonds paid for Haitian immigrants by RAICES averaged $16,700, 54% higher than for other immigrants (RAICES Texas).

Last week, several Black activist groups created Black Immigrant Advocacy Week of Action, calling on the Biden administration to recognize and address systemic anti-Black racism in how the government treats immigrants, refugees, and asylum seekers. Let’s carry that work forward and continue to advocate for Black immigrants.

KEY TAKEAWAYS

The Biden administration is deporting Black immigrants, mainly Haitian, at a time of significant political unrest both here in the U.S. and abroad
Black immigrants are disproportionately targeted for deportation and detained
The efforts of the Biden administration to improve immigration in the U.S. may be racially-charged, and Black advocacy organizations are calling for accountability

10/5/2020 | Protect undocumented Americans.

9/17/2020 | Abolish ICE.

PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT

Nicole Cardoza 10/15/20 Nicole Cardoza 10/15/20

Understand Judge Amy Coney Barrett's stance on racism.

This week, the Senate holds confirmation hearings for Judge Amy Coney Barrett, who was nominated as the next Supreme Court justice appointment. As you watch, be sure to listen for how her confirmation may impact how the U.S. responds to this racial reckoning for decades to come.

Happy Thursday! Today I'm analyzing the Senate confirmation hearings and parsing out Judge Amy Coney Barrett's position on racism. I'm quite (un)surprised by her thoughts on the judicial system's responsibility to racial equity – give me a read and let me know your thoughts.

I'm excited to announce that the Anti-Racism Daily Podcast is here! I'll be hosting conversations on the most impactful ways to take action around critical current events, and interviewing inspiring changemakers. Listen to the trailer on Apple Podcasts or Spotify.

You can help our work thrive by making a one-time or monthly contribution. Thank you to everyone that makes this newsletter possible.

Give on our website, PayPal or Venmo @nicoleacardoza
Subscribe monthly or annually on Patreon

Nicole

TAKE ACTION

Contact your senator and tell them there should be no vote on any Supreme Court nominee before January
Stay informed on the issues discussed during the confirmation hearings
Continue to recognize how racism affects the disproportionate impact of significant court decisions

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By Nicole Cardoza (she/her)

The most divisive aspect of Judge Amy Coney Barrett’s potential appointment is abortion. During the confirmation hearings, Judge Barrett has evaded giving a straightforward answer on how she will approach Roe v. Wade during her appointment (The Atlantic). But we do know that Trump vowed to appoint justices who'd vote to overturn it. Anti-abortion advocates are celebrating both him and Judge Barrett. And in her past work, Judge Barrett has cast votes opposing rulings that struck down abortion-related restrictions (Reuters).

Although abortion may feel like a separate issue when analyzing the significant factors at play in this election, it’s not. The right to abortion affects everyone but disproportionately impacts communities of color. We need to remember that race is a critical component of reproductive justice. In fact, because the abortion movement has historically been a white-led movement, it’s easy to dismiss how many people of color are impacted by these decisions. Read more in a previous newsletter >

A study in 2008 found that abortion rates for Black women are almost 5x that for white women. The abortion rate among Hispanic women is 2x that for white women. A more accurate statistic for understanding the likelihood of abortion is the number of unintended pregnancies, which is also disproportionately higher for women of color (Guttmacher). Much of this is attributed to difficulties communities of color may face in accessing high-quality contraceptive services, one of many health disparities that affect our maternal health and reproductive rights. Many states with a high population of communities of color have greatly restricted abortion access. Explore a state-by-state map via Planned Parenthood >

Another urgent issue on hand is the Affordable Care Act. The Supreme Court is currently set to review the act on November 10th, just a week after the election. Democrats believe that Republicans are rushing the nomination through so that Judge Barrett would be on the court to rule against it (NPR).

Ending the Affordable Care Act would impact millions of people and have devastating consequences amid an economic downturn and global pandemic. The 133 million Americans with pre-existing health conditions may be turned away from other forms of care or be forced to pay high premiums. An additional 9 million could lose access because of the loss of federal subsidies that make accessing it affordable. Twelve million more adults could lose Medicaid coverage. You can read a more comprehensive breakdown in the NYTimes.

These initiatives worked to decrease coverage disparities between white communities and communities of color. The difference between Black and white adult uninsured rates dropped by 4.1 percentage points, while the difference between Hispanic and white uninsured rates fell 9.4 points since the ACA went into effect. Also, Black adults living in states that expanded Medicaid report coverage rates and access to care measures as “good as” or “better” than what white adults in non-expansion states report (The Commonwealth Fund). Although the ACA is far from perfect, it’s unclear what the future will look like if it’s disbanded, particularly a week after an election.

When asked about race directly during the confirmation hearing, Judge Barrett stated that she thinks “it is an entirely uncontroversial and obvious statement, given as we just talked about the George Floyd video, that racism persists in our country”. But she also said that she believes "making broader diagnoses about the problem" is up to lawmakers, not judges (NPR). But that doesn’t sit well with me. If you read our newsletter, you’ll note that major Supreme Court decisions influence systemic issues upholding racism and oppression in our society. We’ve outlined “Milliken v. Bradley” and its impact on school funding disparities. We discussed how the verdict of “Monroe v. Pape” and how the Supreme Court’s revision in 1982 defined qualified immunity. And we’ve analyzed how the ruling on “Shelby County v. Holder” makes it difficult for people to vote in this upcoming election.

This isn’t meant to downplay the historical significance of major laws written into effect that, too, have changed the course of racial equity. But the power of our judiciary system needs to be wielded alongside policy to ensure that laws are implemented and enforced.

Supporters of Judge Amy Coney Barrett will emphasize that Barrett cannot be racist because she has two adopted Black children from Haiti (Washington Post). But having Black children doesn’t mean that Judge Barrett will vote against racist policies. And, more broadly, having Black children – or being in proximity to any Black person – doesn’t mean that people still can’t have racist values, beliefs, or behaviors. Judge Barrett emphasized that she wept along with her children while watching the George Floyd video. But that does not seem to shift her views of the court’s responsibility court to take action (Politico). Remember that proximity to communities of color does not ensure their protection. Read more in our newsletter on playing the “friend card” and our follow-up Study Hall question on playing the “family card” >

Also, note how often people justify Judge Barrett’s empathy not by her voting history, but because she is a mother. Regardless of her children’s race, it’s far too common that women are valued by their contributions to family rather than their work ethic. As we continue to unpack the intersectionality of race, gender, and other identities, consider how voters’ depiction of Judge Barrett as a woman skews their perception of her work. In addition, consider how “being a good mother” is wielded as a defense for any racist rhetoric, which is often used to bypass harm inflicted by white women.

As the confirmation hearings continue to unfold, watch for more conversations on critical issues regarding racism, including immigration and the environment. But remember that racism, not race, causes the disparities in how these decisions impact communities of color. We deserve a judge that holds the judiciary system accountable for how racism will affect rulings on some of the most critical decisions in our future.

KEY TAKEAWAYS

The Supreme Court nominee Judge Amy Coney Barrett holds a generally conservative view, which can negatively impact communities of color
The most critical decisions Judge Amy Coney Barrett may make in her appointment need to be analyzed with the lens of how racism persists in the U.S.
The U.S. Justice system has greatly influenced racial equity throughout history – and will continue to do so
An individual's oroximity to Blackness – and other people of color – does not mean that person isn't racist

7/6/2020 | Abolish qualified immunity.

7/2/2020 | Remove police from our public schools.

8/7/2020 | Don't play the friend card.

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Nicole Cardoza 10/14/20 Nicole Cardoza 10/14/20

Make the outdoors more equitable.

Last month I wrote an essay in Outdoors cataloging my negative encounters with white people who "didn't expect to see me”: a Black man hiking Mt. Katahdin, the highest peak in Maine and a favorite destination of extreme hikers. During my many visits to Katahdin, I have been screamed at, accused of following people, questioned about why I was on the mountain, and treated with such hostility that I have questioned whether I was doing something illegal. I was not.

In today's piece, I'd like us to reflect on the idea of reclamation. So much of this work isn't about granting new access and opportunity, but a reclaiming of rights given to us before oppressive systems even existed. The notion that some of us experience discrimination while exploring the great outdoors is appalling to me, and represents the core of this work – our need to reclaim the most fundamental parts of being human. I'm grateful to share this space with Juan so he can tell his story on reclaiming our right to blaze our own trail.

Thank you for all the support for this little newsletter that could! If you can, consider joining in by contribution to our website, PayPal, Venmo (@nicoleacardoza), or subscribe monthly on Patreon. Thank you for all the support!

Nicole

TAKE ACTION

Check out In Solidarity for resources on promoting diversity, equity, and inclusion in the outdoors
Contact major industry brands and associations like the Outdoor Industry Association and Merrell and ask them to support connecting Black communities to the outdoors
Organize and support trips that introduce Black schools and families to the outdoors
Write letters to your local representatives to demand greater funding and services in Black neighborhoods

GET EDUCATED

By Juan Michael Porter II (he/him)

My experiences are far from unique. There are numerous accounts from hikers of color about racist hostility that they have received from white people on the open trail (Outside, OPB, The Guardian).

Though I have grown accustomed to these reactions, I was unprepared for the large volume of emails that I received after writing that piece. Some of those letters were kind, though misguided: white people offered to take me hiking in a paternalistic show of solidarity and protectionism. Rather than shower me in virtue signaling (Vanity Fair), I wish that they would focus on eliminating racism so that all Black people could venture into the outdoors without fearing reprisal.

Mixed in with these solidarity statements were denouncements of disbelief that I had experienced racism at all. These screeds oscillated between denying my experience to threatening to “show me what real racism looks like.” It felt as if these white people lived in a different universe from me.

In one regard, they do: they have the privilege of hiking without fear that someone will assume that they are perpetrating harm. As a Black man, I am always greeted with suspicion, even while on an isolated mountain summit in a state that has fewer than 40,000 Black people living in it (Maine Census).

Despite the threats, I keep hiking because I refuse to be defined by fear or to limit the freedom that I feel by being outdoors. In fact, I returned to Katahdin last weekend to reclaim the space as a place of joy for me. Pursuing pleasure is my version of radical activism, especially in a time when so many Black lives are under threat from COVID-19, police brutality, and governmental neglect (Center for Disease Control and Prevention, NYTimes).

I speak out against these issues, as so many other Black people do, because if we stop, the white community (which has the privilege of occupying the outdoors without suspicion) will keep promoting the lie that racism is dead while also blaming us for the threats that we receive for doing nothing more than sleeping in our own beds (Poynter).

I interviewed Shilletha Curtis, a hiker who is of the same mindset. She aims to be the first Black gay woman to complete hiking’s Triple Crown (the Appalachian, Pacific Crest, and Continental Divide trails). Though Curtis has experienced horrible harassment since she started hiking in March—most notably in a Facebook group for hikers after she expressed concern for her safety as a Black woman hiking in the South—she refuses to apologize for “speaking her truth.”

After Curtis was kicked out of the Appalachian Trail Facebook group for discussing race, rather than stay angry, she says, “I took all of that anger and passion and I threw it into words. I put it into something educational; that isn't harmful." Curtis responds to comments such as “there's no racism on the trail” or “the trees don't know any color” by pointing out, “but humans do.”

Whenever I encounter racism, I recall the words of Paul Laurence Dunbar and decide that I will not "wear the mask that grins and lies" (Poetry Foundation). Instead, I work on decolonizing the outdoors and promoting accessibility to Black people. America’s natural splendor is our inheritance, left to us by kidnapped Africans who were forced to work on stolen lands; who fled bondage through valleys and across rivers as they pursued their natural rights as freed people (History, BBC News, Smithsonian Mag, USA Today).

Denying Black people access to outdoor leisure has a long history in the United States. Consider Madison Grant, who helped engineer the national parks system and promoted the pseudo-science behind eugenics. He had no problem with Black people as long as they remained “willing followers who ask only to obey and to further the ideals and wishes of the master (white) race” (Mother Jones, New Yorker). Grant was intent on preserving the parks to the exclusion of Black people. His racist attitudes blossom throughout white-dominated outdoor spaces even today.

Non-Hispanic white people make up only 63% of the U.S. population, but they account for 88% to 95% of all visitors to its public lands (Resource Magazine). Many white people blanch when I point to these facts as signs of pervasive racism and exclusion. Ultimately, I don’t care about what they think. I care about introducing Black people to the stress relieving and lifesaving experience that comes from spending time in nature (TIME, Science Daily). And if that means snatching a few edges, so be it.

You can join me in reclaiming the outdoors as a safe space for Black people by organizing as many people as you can to build a coalition of support that fearlessly and relentlessly advocates for Black communities. Black people deserve their time in the outdoors as much as anyone else does.

Like Shilletha Curtis, I fulfill this mission by serving as a role model for Black people who do not realize that the outdoors is for them, even if that just means visiting a local park. It may be a small step over the mountain of racism, but through grassroots and political initiatives, together we are all building a coalition to reclaim our birthright. Instead of “40 acres and a mule”, we Black people deserve access to every golden valley, from sea to shining sea.

KEY TAKEAWAYS

Black people face hostility and racism in the outdoor community and at recreation centers.
Non-Hispanic white people make up only 63% of the population in this country, but they account for 88% to 95% of all visitors to public lands across the U.S. (Resource Magazine)
Confronting racism is important, but arguing with racists is less effective than advocating for Black communities fearlessly and relentlessly.

6/18/2020 | Take down Confederate symbols.

7/5/2020 | Support the Navajo Nation through COVID-19.

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Nicole Cardoza 7/27/20 Nicole Cardoza 7/27/20

Support Asian Americans through COVID-19.

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Happy Monday! Thank you for all your kind requests to support the process of consolidating our content – I'll be going through them and following up this week!

We're back to our weekly series on COVID-19 (usually published on Sundays) and looking at the spike in anti-Asian racism that's growing at the pace of the virus. Thank you to Katie for sharing her story here with us today, and sending love to everyone in this community that's dealing with this violence. Full COVID-19 reporting here >

Many of you have mentioned that Gmail keeps hiding this newsletter in your Promotions tab. Apparently, that's happening to a lot of BLM content (h/t to Jason for sending this along). But it's a 5-second fix on a desktop computer. Here's how to do it.

Contributions to this project are always appreciated. Give one-time on our website, through Venmo @nicoleacardoza, or pledge $5/month on our Patreon to keep this work growing.

Nicole

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TAKE ACTION

1. Ensure your company has implemented anti-discrimination policies that protect Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders using this PDF.

2. In your next few interactions with people who are different from you, bring awareness and acknowledge the prejudice or disregard you might initially have about this person based on their surface categorical group (their race, sexual orientation, or gender)...then move beyond that. What else do you notice about this person’s character?

3. Don't refer to COVID-19 using the racist terminology mentioned in this newsletter.

GET EDUCATED

The onset of COVID-19 in early March set off a dramatic spike in anti-Asian racism. The Stop AAPI Hate Reporting Center, organized by the Asian Pacific Policy and Planning Council, has tracked over 1,900 self-reported acts of anti-Asian incidents from March 13 – June, and hundreds more from California and Texas since (A3PCON). 58% of Asian Americans feel it’s more common to experience racism now than it was before COVID-19, and 31% have been subject to slurs or jokes because of their race or ethnicity (Pew Research). A recent Pew Study reports that since COVID-19 about 40% of U.S. adults believe “it has become more common for people to express racist views toward Asians since the pandemic began” (Pew Research).

Our president has played a role in this, applying his divisive approach to conversations around COVID-19, choosing to refer to it as “Chinese virus,” or “kung flu,” consistently. Press noted he used “Chinese virus” over 20 times between March 16 and March 30 (NBC News). I found a source where he agreed to stop using the term in late March to “protect our Asian American community in the United States,” but keeps using it, most recently in late July when he finally encouraged citizens to wear a mask (Bloomberg, CNN). These terms have also been perpetuated by the media and the general population.

I know we’re probably all tired of talking about Trump. I sure am. But, as we’ve discussed in previous newsletters, language matters. And there’s a long history of North America and its leaders using false narratives to associate Asian Americans with diseases to "justify" racial discrimination and violence. In the late 19th century, many Chinese and Japanese people immigrated to the U.S. and Canada for the gold rush, along with immigrants from the UK and Europe. Their labor was indispensable for the growth of infrastructure alongside the West Coast, but they were also paid terribly compared to their white American counterparts (The Conversation).

As Chinese communities began to grow, white communities turned against them, fearing they would take their jobs and disrupt their quality of life. They ostracized them by blaming Chinese people for diseases – like syphilis, leprosy, and smallpox – growing in the region. This was entirely untrue; poverty, not race, is more accurately correlated with the spread of diseases. Despite that, Canada created a Royal Commission on Chinese Immigration and concluded that "Chinese quarters are the filthiest and most disgusting places in Victoria, overcrowded hotbeds of disease and vice, disseminating fever and polluting the air all around,” even though they knew themselves it wasn’t accurate (The Conversation). This spurred violence and hateful rhetoric, but political changes, too: the U.S. passed the Chinese Exclusion Act in 1882, and Canada followed with their own Chinese Immigration Act in 1885. These were the first law for both countries that excluded an entire ethnic group (AAPF).

“Viruses know no borders and they don’t care about your ethnicity or the colour of your skin or how much money you have in the bank.”

Dr. Mike Ryan, Executive Director of the World Health Organization, for Newsweek

We chatted with Katie Dean, an educator currently working in the tech space, for her perspective of the anti-Asian racism and our country’s history of violence against Asian Americans.

By Katie Dean

How has COVID-19 impacted you?
I was the first person I know to start self-isolating in early March. I was reading international publications, and I saw what was happening in other parts of the world. Out of respect for the suffering and loss Italy, Iran, and China endured, I decided the most responsible thing I could do was stay inside. In my life, I’ve chosen meaningful work over monetary success. I give up my seat on the bus for elderly people. I’m also funny, sharp-witted, and fanatically clean.

Why am I listing all of this? Because right now, who I actually am, doesn’t matter. When I walk out into the world, I am judged by my face. And currently the face of an Asian person, to some, is synonymous with COVID-19, the virus that has taken loved ones, the virus that’s brought the global economy to a crashing halt, the virus that has exacerbated every conceivable racial and socioeconomic disparity. And this hurts, on a profound level.

The last thing I’m eliciting is pity. This is what all BIPOC people endure. This is the same experience people resembling someone of Middle Eastern descent have endured since 9/11. This is what Black people have endured systemically since 1619. This paragraph is just for illustration.

And how has this racism shown up in your life before COVID-19?
On multiple occasions, while I was in high school, a lifelong white friend would look at me, really seeing ME for the first time, and after years of friendship, in a moment of reckoning say, “I finally see you as white.” At the time, my fourteen-year-old self felt a sense of pride and acceptance in those moments, a sense of belonging. As I’ve advanced in my understanding of race, and how my race has shaped my experiences, I look back and am horrified by what these statements in fact meant.

When my white friends said, “I finally see you as white,” what they meant is “I finally see you as human,” and what that translates to is that “white and only white people are able to be fully human, fully themselves, fully individual”. This construct also implies that all non-white people are all somehow “less than” until it’s decided by white people that they are acceptable. Well, BIPOC and other marginalized groups have no interest in our humanity being measured against the white measuring stick.

Where do you believe we need to go from here?
Dehumanizing others, throughout the entire course of human history, is what’s allowed the worst atrocities to take place. The psychology of seeing whole groups of people as less than human, is what allows and justifies egregious mistreatment, apathy towards suffering, and irreverence to the genocide of these other groups. This is currently happening on all fronts, against all BIPOC as well as the LGBTQ+ communities.

Breaking down systemic racism will be the greatest battle we face, spanning many lifetimes. But addressing who we assign and don’t assign individuality to, the basic respect of recognizing the unique human in others, is critical work we can all start immediately to dismantle racist behaviors within ourselves.

KEY TAKEAWAYS

The onset of COVID-19 in early March set off a dramatic spike in anti-Asian racism.
The U.S. and Canada have a history of accusing Asian Americans of disease as one of many ways to discriminate and incite violence against them.
Our country's practice of "othering" has caused significant harm to Asian Americans, which is exacerbated by the current racial discrimination during COVID-19.

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Nicole Cardoza 6/14/20 Nicole Cardoza 6/14/20

Learn how racism is a public health crisis.

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Happy Sunday,

There's been so much urgent news lately it's almost easy to forget that we're living in the midst of a global pandemic. And even as states across the U.S. ease restrictions, infection rates are rising both here and around the world. I'm dedicating space each Sunday to highlight why Black people are disproportionately impacted by COVID-19, because it highlights how widespread and fatal systemic racism is in our society.

And a hearty welcome to all the new faces! If you can, make a contribution via PayPal, Patreon or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza). Your support helps keep this a free resource for everyone who can't financially contribute.

Nicole

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TAKE ACTION

1. Research the racial and ethnic disparities of COVID-19 in your state.

2. Reflect on the following questions if you can – I acknowledge and respect that losing someone to COVID-19 is painful and difficult, and this may not be a good time to reflect:
Do you know someone that has contracted COVID-19?
If so, what underlying factors noted below may have increased the likelihood of contracting the disease?
Which underlying factors didn't affect their relationship to COVID-19?
Which underlying factors could have been more or less severe based on this person's ethnicity?

GET EDUCATED

Systemic racism is everywhere.

The protests over the past week have brought acute attention to the relationship between systemic racism and our law enforcement. Most conversations and protests have been focused on how Black people, particularly Black women and Black trans people, are disproportionately impacted by police violence and harsh incarceration. Calls for reform have been centered on defunding the police, eliminating cash bail, and holding police accountable for their actions. (All links in this paragraph refer previously sent Anti-Racism Daily emails, if you want a refresher)!

But as we push this work forward, we have to remember that systemic racism is pervasive. It's just as present in our criminal justice system as it is in healthcare, in education, in housing, and employment opportunities. It decides who gets to vote and who gets to become a CEO. It's a difficult and complex issue that is easier to understand in specific instances, but has an accumulative impact. Although here at ARD we're breaking down daily actions against specific instances, we also have to remember that all of it is affecting all of us all the time with devastating consequences.

And it's also important to remember that racism doesn't just affect Black people. Although right now we've focused mainly on Black lives, there are so many other people of color affected by racism each day. And remember when we talked about intersectionality? How we are impacted is compounded by other aspects of our identity. And those identities – like our academic background, for example – are also shaped by opportunities based off of race. Whew!

Nothing has exposed this more drastically than COVID-19. This unprecedented global pandemic does not discriminate. People across the globe are affected. But some of us here in America are affected a lot more than others – people of color, particularly Black people. And how can that be? As Kerri Kelly, founder of CTZNWell stated: "this virus doesn't discriminate, but systems do". And because our systemic is inequitable, so is the impact of the disease. Today we'll offer an overview of the relationship between COVID-19 and racism. And for the next few Sundays, we'll dive deeper into some of the specific aspects of society and how they prevent all of us from being well – whether there's a global pandemic or not.

“We know that these racial ethnic disparities in COVID-19 are the result of pre-pandemic realities. It's a legacy of structural discrimination that has limited access to health and wealth for people of color.”

Dr. Marcella Nunez-Smith, director of the Equity Research and Innovation Center at Yale School of Medicine, via this NPR article

African–Americans and COVID-19

First off, let's look at COVID-19 in America. COVID-19 is here and isn't going anywhere. With over 2 million confirmed cases and 113,000 deaths, US is now leading in worldwide tallies, accounting for a total of 26% in confirmed global cases (based on data pulled from here the morning of June 14). And cases aren't slowing. According to this article by TIME magazine, 25 states are continuing to see case counts grow day by day. Four of those states—Arizona, California, Mississippi and North Carolina—have had cases steadily rising since COVID-19 started.

But how is it disproportionately impacting Black people? According to the CDC, almost 1/3 of infections nationwide have affected Black Americans, despite the fact that Black people represent about 13% of the U.S. population. A Yale study found that black Americans are 3.5 times more likely to die of COVID-19 than white Americans. In addition, the team found that Latinx people are almost twice as likely to die of the disease, compared with white people.

And remember that not all states have been reporting data by race/ethnicity this whole time. In fact, this article from John Hopkins' Coronavirus Research Center says racial and ethnic information is currently available for only about 35% of the total deaths in the U.S., which makes it even more difficult to see the full scope of the disparities.

Researchers and medical experts often cite underlying factors that may increase the likelihood of contracting and overcoming the disease. The CDC lists several on their website. We're going to dive into each over the coming weeks, but here's a quick recap below to start reflecting for today's action:

Some medical conditions, including heart disease, diabetes, obesity, lung, liver and kidney disease
People living in densely crowded areas, including dense neighborhoods, multi-family homes, and jails and prisons
Certain occupations that place people in more direct exposure to others, and/or occupations that are deemed essential
Pregnancy
People experiencing homelessness
Not having health insurance

It may not be clear just yet how race and ethnicity play into each of these spaces. We'll unpack them next week. But notice the broad categories. When underlying factors are inherently inequitable, everything becomes more difficult to overcome.

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Systemic racism is everywhere.

African–Americans and COVID-19

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