White Mamas, Privilege & Racial Mental Tango

I recently tweeted and blogged about my latest "is that your child" encounter I had at a conference this weekend. One very interesting reply to my tweet came from Julie, who blogs at Duck You Forever and Freelance Writing & Editing

I was shocked to see something like that said (admitted) when other white moms would swear otherwise. As I traded tweets with Julie I wanted to learn more about this "white privileged blindness" some white women/moms have. I asked Julie to share her thoughts on the subject in a guest post. I think it's important that moms of color with biracial children hear/read/ understand what's really happening in the minds of some white women/moms.

White Mamas, White Privilege & Racial Mental Tango
by Julie Jordan Avritt

Hypothetical Scenario:

If I’d been sitting at the playground alongside a group of other white mothers when one of them asked me who the light skinned child of a darker-skinned mother belonged to, I would have found myself in the instantaneous psychological tango that never flows gracefully and certainly isn’t sexy.

Let’s say the woman on the playground has been holding the child, offering the child affection, soothing the child’s tears—usual indications that a woman is a child’s mother. But learned stereotypes, less real than imagined, want us to believe this woman, because of her race, is more likely to be the child’s nanny. Still, I would quickly pivot on my mental feet and say, “I’m sure the child belongs to her.”

But the truth is that the dance I’d be doing in my head would be partly obstacle course around my own learned prejudices. I might have looked and wondered for a brief second too, and I have to admit that if I’m interested in honest exchanges about race. Racism is systemic and even when we choose to eliminate it, or further, become social activists around its elimination, we are still called to address it all the time—not just in others, but in ourselves.

As a white person, I’m automatically assumed to be the rightful mother of my child. That’s white privilege. As a white person, I’m less likely to be assumed to be poor, even though I’m a member of the poverty class. I don’t appear to be, and this has partly to do with it, but being white as opposed to being a member of a minority race or ethnicity affects this perception. As a white person, it is more commonly assumed that I am educated and hold a degree or degrees. As a white person—and this one is frightening for what it means about minorities—it is automatically assumed that I am likely to be a decent parent.

Certainly not all white people are assumed to be decent parents, but we tend to think that educated, high income white folks are automatically going to be good at parenting. Hmm. And the opposite is assumed of low income minorities. This is dangerous thinking.

My experience with white people is that the vast majority of us are unconscious of our privilege and what it means, how it impacts others. This is a powerful ignorance. My experience of folks who are working to unpack our privilege is that we are a tricky bunch; anybody who becomes bogged down by “white guilt” is likely to be sometimes smarmy, sometimes inauthentic, and no help to anyone, including themselves. We like to debate about white privilege with one another forever, but actually listening to folks of color tell us why the things we believe, say, and do are obnoxious? Never! So, the privilege-ignorance equation regenerates and recycles.

Not long ago the Chicana owner of a social site informed the membership that it was becoming “too white.” (Folks of color were leaving because of all the unmonitored privilege and ignorance.) Her statement actually enraged members; they called it racist. Racist against whom; white people? And I should say here that this was a website in the LGBT community, people already very personally familiar with what it means to be oppressed.

My position is that white folks should not look to or expect people of color to teach them about their inherent racisms or the privilege they’re not ready to acknowledge they have. That is a further enacting of privilege. Working to eliminate our inner racism should be work we commit to do ourselves. When I think about the job of mothering, though, I wonder if there isn’t overlap, because I know that support is important, mentors are vital, and believing that we can affect change for the better—in ourselves, and maybe in at least one other little person—is essential. And perhaps also love. A lot of love.