In recent years, Christian colleges and universities have made significant progress on issues of race. Many would even say they are âantiracist.â At the same time, they have been inconsistent on the topic of privilege. Overt racism is condemned, but the subtler .
White privilege, as defined in social science, refers to âthe myriad of social advantages, benefits, and courtesies that come with being a member of the dominant raceâ (Delgado and Stefancic, Critical Race Theory). Or, as , âan invisible package of unearned assets that I can count on cashing in each day.â
White privilege does not mean that every individual white person is always better off. Rather, it means that being able to claim the âwhiteâ identity in North America comes with certain social, cultural, and economic advantages, from getting a to finding an apartment or. As James Bratt wrote on the Reformed blog âThe Twelve,â this privilege has, and acknowledging it is not intended to induce guilt but a sense of responsibility. As a personal example, Christina is often pigeonholed on our campus as one of the âdiversity peopleâ in ways that Joe is not, even though we both have scholarly interests in a wide variety of topics. She is often assumed to represent the views of people of color as a whole, whereas Joe is allowed a more holistic individuality.
On college campuses, part of white privilege is safety. In 2013, the most recent year for which we , there were 781 reported hate crimes on U.S. college campuses. The single largest motivation for these crimes was raceâabout 40 percent. A found that 40.1 percent of respondents had experienced some incidence of hate crime. Race or ethnicity was a major motivator (23.3 percent) with Aboriginal people, and Afro-Caribbeans were particularly vulnerable.
We work at Calvin College in Grand Rapids, Mich. For us, the disparity between conversations about racism and privilege was made evident last winter, when one of our students wrote âwhite powerâ and drew a swastika in the fresh snow on the rear window of a parked car. Photos of the graffiti found their way onto social media, and our campus was confronted with a sobering reminder of the persistence of white supremacy. We , and our president condemned the action as having âno place at Calvin College.â The primary student involved later and issued an anonymous public apology. While some members of our community attempted to minimize the incident (the student was âonly joking,â for example), there was almost universal condemnation for invoking white supremacist imagery.
However, many people failed to see t. We believe that the denial of white privilege rests on an implicit assumption of white supremacy. If you deny white privilege, if society is indeed meritocratic and the game is essentially fair, it is difficult to avoid assumptions about who tends to win and who tends to lose. If the white population is not privileged in some way, how else does one explain the discrepancies between them and people of color? Whatâs left is assuming that .
But if you talk too much about white privilege, youâre told youâre being extreme. In some cases, youâre told that talk about racism and white privilege is actually what perpetuates racism. Inevitably, someone quotes Dr. King: âI have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.â Calling attention to white privilege is holding back the dream. If you are surrounded by this sort of attitude, you begin to question yourself. Maybe trying to talk about privilege is too confrontational. Maybe you should be less âextreme.â
We donât think thatâs the case, and it certainly isnât what Dr. King meant. Hereâs a passage from his âLetter from a Birmingham Jail,â in which he laments the role of âwhite moderates.â Given that Dr. Kingâs words are often reduced into easily misunderstood feel-good sentiments, weâll quote him at length:
I must confess that over the last few years I have been gravely disappointed with the white moderate. I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negroâs great stumbling block in the stride toward freedom is not the White citizenâs âCouncilorâ or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate who is more devoted to âorderâ than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice; who constantly says âI agree with you in the goal you seek, but I canât agree with your methods of direct actionâ; who paternalistically feels that he can set the timetable for another manâs freedom; who lives by the myth of time and who constantly advises the Negro to wait until a âmore convenient season.â Shallow understanding from people of goodwill is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will. Lukewarm acceptance is much more bewildering than outright rejection.
Our suspicion is that many of those working to confront white privilege on Christian campuses know something about lukewarm acceptance and how bewildering it can be. Why is this conversation so difficult?
It shouldnât be. As Christians, we are confessional people. At many Christian Reformed churches, confession is part of the weekly liturgy. What would it look like to confess white privilege? Weâd like to take this a step further. The church often talks about confessing and lamenting sins, and in the context of racism particularly, the sins of the past. Thatâs appropriate. But weâd like to name the subtle white supremacy that props up white privilege for what we think it is: an idol.
We think this is why the conversation about white privilege is so contentious. As Christina wrote about the controversy on our campus, âIf you ever want to see somebody get . . . really mad, threaten their idol.â Idols attempt to rob God of Godâs deserved glory. They minimize our needed dependence on the gospel, and they lead others astray. So what does it look like to tear down or repent of this idol?
First, we must ask for the spiritual sight to see racial injustice. For those who live it, like Christina, it is as evident as the day is long; but for those who benefit from it, like Joseph, this is harder. Our tailored history and politically aligned media sources shape worlds and worldviews that feed the idol of racism. However, seeing this idol does not require some supernatural experience but rather a willingness to learn the full narrative. To listen to our brothers and sisters in Christ and to turn away from the voices of âpost-racialâ or meritocratic false prophets.
Second, this awareness will hurt. Resist rushing past or suppressing the deep sadness of this idolatry. It is so easy to medicate with avoidance, delusion, and quick tears. Repentance requires real sorrow and grief. It is a sorrow that acknowledges that we have missed the mark, that we have fallen so very short. The Bible provides us with images of godly sorrow that include weeping, wailing, and the ripping of clothes. We are broken people who ought to be broken up by our sin.
Third, our lament must lead to change. Christians serve an embodied Savior. We must have an embodied faith. A faith that has real implications for not only what we confess but how we live. We must walk up to and into racist systems and structures to change them. Lament must have legsâor else it serves to prolong the suffering of others.
Turning from idols is difficult. We cannot do it in our own. But we are not alone. Christ himself provides us with the ability to see our sin, the strength to repent, and the wisdom to proceed towards justice.
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Questions for Discussion
- What comes to mind when you hear âwhite privilegeâ? How do you feel and why?
- Have you ever experienced being âpigeonholedâ? How did you feel? What can we do to minimize such experiences for others?
- What is your response in reading Dr. Martin Luther King, Jrâs frustrations with âmoderatesâ and âlukewarm acceptanceâ?
- Do you agree that white privilege is an idolatry? Why or why not?
- If you have the power, what racist structures in society would you change and how? What potential steps can you take to make that a reality?
About the Authors
Joseph Kuilema is an assistant professor in the social work program at Calvin College. He and his wife attend Sherman St. Christian Reformed Church.
Christina Edmondson serves as Dean for Intercultural Student Development at Calvin College. She trains congregations and organizations nationally about implicit bias, multicultural accessibility, and leadership development.