Me and Layla F. Saad's Me and White Supremacy

I have already written about this book on the Sunday blog:

https://preparedspork.blogspot.com/2021/05/fighting-white-supremacy-cleansing.html

That post had its own context, though, and I did not write everything.

One thing I did admit is that I had a bad attitude about the book right from the beginning.

Although I was pleased that it was not written by a white person -- as their books often tend to be the most popular among other white people -- Saad is not from the United States. The US has its own specific problems with racism (though we have done a great deal of successful exporting), and it may be more valuable to hear from people who have dealt specifically with that. 

Right now, the book I would recommend most strongly is Austin Channing Brown's I'm Still Here: Black Dignity in a World Made For Whiteness. It is excellent, and touching, but even so I found it from an article where I was once again irritated by Robin DiAngelo, so there's that.

(Yes, I know I'm white.)

(Also, racism is a big enough deal that reading more than one book is advisable; just let some of your author choices be people who actually have to deal with it.)

There were things that made Saad's book a good fit for the book group. It is divided into individual assignments that build on each other, with discussion questions and a section in the book on how to go over the material in a group. 

In addition, I really like the subtitle: Combat Racism, Change the World, and Become a Good Ancestor

Especially with that last part -- about becoming a good ancestor -- I like that eye to the future. 

Still, I was frequently irritated with the book when it was going over material that I was too familiar with. Yes. I know that. I don't do that anymore. I have not done that for seven or eight years! 

Then I would worry that I was fooling myself, or trusting too much in my own growth. That didn't make me less irritated.

What brought me around to the book was hearing the thoughts of the other group members, people who had not specialized in African-American history for their undergrad, and continued reading lots of history since then, with it growing into a conscious effort to listen to marginalized voices for several years. 

(This sounds like bragging; a "but" is coming.)

As other white people -- mainly with the same religious background, but also people willing to join a book group that was focused on countering racism -- spoke, I got to hear thoughts and opinions that sometimes appalled me, but then, I also got to hear their growth. They absolutely did grow by working through this book.

That is worth a lot.

Here's the "but": if I were Black, I would never have been able to have been surprised or shocked or caught off guard by the things admitted by nice white people. 

That is part of my white privilege. I can do things to try and pay attention, and I should. I believe that is important. 

But it doesn't get thrust in my face.

One thing I had to question for myself was how much of that was merely white privilege, or whether a lot of it was exacerbated by how isolated I have become during this care giving followed by pandemic, burned out phase of my life.

That school board election comes up again, in that as I tried reaching out to other nice white people I know (all from church), well, I was ignored more than getting outright disagreement, but the conversations that did happen were really disappointing. 

Which I guess means that as I get out there more, especially in the cause of anti-racism, I will get more frequent reminders of how selfish, small-minded, vapid, condescending, and ignorant people can be. 

And yet, there's still not really the microaggressions or the outright hostility. Maybe I am not trying hard enough, but also, that is white privilege. 

If that allows me to absorb some of the brunt of it, I should do that.