quietlyradical

I love a good card game! My dad taught me to play Solitaire (with real cards, not on the computer, because…well…I’m on the elderly side of Generation X) when I was about 7 years old. In high school, we’d play Hearts and Uno in the school cafeteria at lunch time. When I got to college, where I was no longer the only African American student in my friend group, I took up Spades but only watched, mystified by the hardcore card sharks playing something called Bid Whist. (As far as I could tell, Bid Whist is Spades on steroids with constantly changing trump cards that always made my head spin!) I generally had a pretty good poker face and generally no obvious “tells” when I drew great cards like the “Draw 4 wild card” in Uno or a perfect combination of face cards and the Big and Little Jokers that would allow my partner and I to “run the board” and “set” our opponents even though there wasn’t any big money involved, but merely the right to talk trash about their lack of card-playing skills. So, when I entered the corporate word and began to hear white people complain about Black Americans who constantly “played the race card,” I was intrigued.

According to white people, the “race card” seemed to be some all-powerful trump card that gave Black people the power to gain the upper hand in any conversation related to inequality or unfairness. Furthermore, there seemed to be the idea that Black people wielded the so-called race card as a weapon both to shame and silence white people so that we could gain some sort of advantage. (Although what that advantage is has never been made completely clear to me.)

More recently, the terminology seems to have shifted from references to “the race card” to accusations of having a “victim mentality”, of “wokeism”, or practicing “cancel culture.” However it is framed, the implication seems to be that some white Americans hope that by making these types of accusations, they will be able to successfully shut down awkward conversations about race and either shame or bully people of color into silence. What I find interesting, however, is the lack of awareness on the part of the subsection of white Americans try to do this, is that it simply doesn’t work, for a number of reasons.

First, it doesn’t work because the “race card” isn’t a real thing; at least not to people of color. When we talk about our personal experiences with prejudice, bigotry, and discrimination, we’re not waiting to pull these out of back pockets like Skip, Reverse, or Draw 2 cards in Uno. We are simply sharing our very real experiences of life in a white-dominated society. These experiences have given us strength, resilience, and resourcefulness; therefore, I guaran-damn-tee that if the race card were real and truly carried the power to right the wrongs of the past and level the playing field for people of color in the United States, we’d be printing those suckers up at Staples and Office Depot by the thousands, carrying backpacks full of them with us, slapping them down, and screaming, “Uno!” or better yet, “Equality!” everywhere we went!

Second, I think that the fact that there are some white people who believe so vehemently in the existence of the mythical race card shows a lot about the true differences between white people and people of color. The main difference, in my opinion, is the ability to deal with discomfort.

Throughout my life, I have had to deal with the discomfort associated with being automatically suspect simply because of my physical appearance, even when I am doing nothing wrong. I’ve been followed in stores, refused service in restaurants and hair salons, and pointedly questioned by police and security guards  when simply trying to go about my day. From childhood my parents schooled me on how to safely and effectively navigate these challenges with advice like, “Always insist on getting a bag and a receipt for anything you buy.” “Don’t carry bags from one store into another if you can help it. Put your purchases in the trunk of your car or get a locker if the stores have them.” “Keep your hands out of your pockets in stores.” “On traffic stops, keep your hands at 10 and 2 on the steering wheel and always ask for the officer’s permission before doing anything.” We accept these lessons as matters of survival, as natural and as necessary as, “Look both ways before you cross the street,” and “Don’t take candy from strangers.” However, many white Americans will totally crash out if they are forced to contemplate that these things are real for people of color.

Many white people are offended by the term, white privilege; however, I think they take exception to the term for the wrong reasons. Oftentimes their issue is with the idea that they haven’t had to work hard for what they’ve achieved, but I don’t think that is the issue or the problem at all. Living in a world where for decades, whiteness was the default, had  prevented white Americans from developing the self-awareness and the coping mechanism to deal with a society that is rapidly changing. People of color have always had to adapt and change as a matter of survival, but now the tide is shifting, and many white Americans are unprepared for the inevitable societal changes. I think that accusing black Americans of playing the race card or of adopting a victim mentality is simply an example of a lack of coping strategies by a group of people who are slowly coming to the realization that the complacency borne out of generations at the top of the pecking order has now rendered them weak and vulnerable to other groups of people who have grown strong in the face of adversity.

Finally, I think there are some white Americans who cling to the idea all people should “suffer in silence.” I believe that they know, deep in their hearts that although there has been progress toward racial equality (at least in the pre-Trump era), many inequities do still exist and this troubles them. However, for whatever reason (if someone can explain this in the comments, please share because I truly don’t understand why this is the case), they seem to believe that addressing uncomfortable truths head on is somehow, bad form. As a Black person, as a woman, as a person who grew up on a working-class family, I was raised to approach problems and challenges from a practical standpoint. Avoiding hard conversations and sweeping distasteful situations under the rug was never going to solve anything. Although standing up in the face of adversity usually isn’t pleasant, it is often necessary, and if one can bear the initial discomfort, the benefits on the other side are usually well worth the effort.

However, for white Americans, there seems to be this idea that even admitting that inequality still exists will somehow bring catastrophe raining down upon their heads. As a result, they desperately attempt to deflect, avoid, and make excuses. I would assert, however, that in the long run, this achieves nothing. The problem isn’t that people of color have a victim mentality upon which they double down by playing the mythical “race card.” The true problem is a society that prefers silent suffering over honesty and truth.  The irony is that, in actuality, it is the people who agree to remain silent who are the most disadvantaged victims. Victims who remain silent enable their attackers to continue to abuse them. Pointing out injustice isn’t a lazy attempt at avoiding personal responsibility as many would like us to believe; rather, it is an act of dignity designed to facilitate continued change.