White Supremacy is in Washington, D.C.
And in You.
“When you get scared, keep talking anyway. Tell the truth like Sojourner Truth.
Spill all the beans. Let all the cats out of all the bags.
If you are what you eat, you become what you speak.
If you free your tongue, your spirit will follow.
Just keep saying it, Girl, you’ll get whole.
Say it again and again, Girl, you’ll get free.”
- Kate Rushin
Dr. Chanequa Walker-Barnes starts out her latest book, “I Bring the Voices of My People: A Womanist Vision for Racial Reconciliation” with these lines. I need to hang them on my wall, not because I am one that is prone to silence, but because I am all too used to the pushback that follows and want to be reminded that in speaking, my spirit and soul get free.
What we saw in D.C. Saturday night was pushback. Certainly not to me, as a white woman the pushback I receive, though vile and full of hatred and misogyny, does not rise to the level of violent displays that are seen when the veil of whiteness doesn’t cover the speaker.
The Idol of Whiteness
I laid awake Saturday night into the early hours of Sunday morning watching videos coming from the streets of D.C. Historically Black churches were vandalized for standing boldly for the inherent value of Black life. The Black church has always stood as a beacon of light and truth in a culture drowning in oppression — a place where the Imago Dei in the Black Christian could be felt and experienced, so of course it was the target as it always has been. Chants of disruption, overthrow, and white supremacy; anything to not allow another BIPOC to peacefully enter the hallowed white space of leadership in this country. There were even some pastors and faith leaders participating rather than denouncing, again, the history plays out again and again each time opening an old wound that is never given the time or care needed to heal.
Idol worship. That’s really what I saw. I saw the idol of whiteness being worshipped.
In that, I had to deal with the fact that my own body bears that idol. My experience is shaped by the reality of white idol worship. My thoughts, feelings, and words given preeminence being something I wrestle with even as I type these words knowing they will be given credence over voices of color sharing their pain. The words of Andrew T. Draper came to mind, “whiteness is best understood as a religious system of pagan idol worship that thrives on a mutually reinforcing circularity between the image and the social constitution of those who worship it.”
The Souls of White Folks
I started my Sunday morning by re-reading the work of DuBois in “The Souls of White Folks” where he makes a bold claim of the causes of world war as laying at the feet of whiteness. In that I see such strong connections between the mindset of those who filled our capital’s streets ready for bloodshed and dividing a nation and ideologies that previously led us to world war. Not because these ideas were held at the fringes, but because they were so normalized, they infiltrated the thinking of everyday people.
“Am I, in my blackness, the sole sufferer? I suffer. And yet, somehow, above the suffering, above the shackled anger that beats the bars, above the hurt that crazes there surges in me a vast pity — pity for a people imprisoned and enthralled, hampered and made miserable for such a cause, for such a phantasy.”
The fantasy, the idol, of white supremacy, leads white people to burn Black Lives Matter signs, to throw everything they said they believed about democracy out the window, to march through the streets trying to grasp at the power they have ingrained into their souls as belonging to them! Watch white supremacy at work! Watch it writhe and scream and protest as bit by bit its power is stripped from it!
See how this ideology is so central to our society, in the core of our beings as truth so much so that it will supplant all other thought processes. Can you see in this moment how white supremacy benefits no one? That freedom from white supremacist ideology and idol worship is also the work of emancipation of our white souls and mutuality for all?
History Rhymes
As I write this my heart feels endlessly heavy in my chest. The images of burning signs are this generation’s images of burning crosses. Saturday’s march through the streets is this generation’s KKK 1925 March on Washington. I watched historically Black churches be targeted in ways that so perfectly fit the historical narrative of our country. The police standing by allowed the events to happen, not just 95 years ago but mere hours ago, while months ago those protesting for racial justice were shot with rubber bullets, tear gassed, and treated as less than at every turn by law enforcement and elected officials. The pain this harsh and persistent reality causes our siblings of color feels insurmountable. The work that needs done, an Everest to climb. I mourn and weep and sit in sackcloth over the ways white supremacy has shaped this planet, this country, our relationships, and each and every one of our souls.
I don’t want to just decry the display of white supremacy in D.C.’s streets, I want to call out every little tributary and stream that flows from its river. Yes, speak boldly in this moment, speak directly and intentionally about this evil. Name ideologies. Name names. Do not cater to the niceness and politeness while the streets fill with evil.
But also, do the work of digging out the root in yourself. Shine light on it in ways that will destroy supremacist thinking within your own heart and mind and everywhere your sphere of influence lets you touch. Do not take the concept of white supremacy and ascribe it to “them” while you sit in predominantly white spaces, vote in voting booths for white interests, and worship with the same theology that has allowed white supremacy to reign rather than be snuffed out. It’s on us, not just those who are outward about their hatred, to eradicate racial hierarchy and see justice roll down.
