She knows: Talking about race is not optional

When I teach the course Colonial and U.S. Literature to 1865, often a student mentions, “I thought this class was supposed to be about literature. We keep talking about race.” Yes, we cover familiar writers of the period such as Thomas Jefferson, Herman Melville, Emily Dickinson and Walt Whitman. But for my slightly disgruntled student, the class had gone a step too far in delving into the world around those authors, beyond their printed pages, to ask additional questions: What realities are not reflected? Whose voices are missing? As I insist, we also need to read William Apess’ “An Indian’s Looking-Glass for the White Man” and Indigenous writing that resisted land dispossession. We need to know the fiery anti-racist writings of David Walker and the rhythmic poetry of Black feminist abolitionist Frances Ellen Watkins Harper. To understand the fuller story of the period, we need to talk about race.

But addressing race isn’t simply a matter of adding the voices of Black, Latinx, Asian American or Indigenous people to our reading lists or, by extension, to our everyday experiences. Whiteness is charged with its own racialized history, one that we too often allow to appear dominant, universal and neutral. That assumption led my student to initially imagine that “American” literature and “race” appear in isolation.

People of color often are accustomed to examining and protesting inequality, whether through lived experience or study. But all of us, regardless of our backgrounds, can broaden the scope and depth of our knowledge. By talking about race in the context of literature, history, science, business, the arts and other fields, we can reveal and challenge structural inequities.

For many, meaningful change begins with talking about race reflectively, repeatedly and responsively.

Exposing myths of white superiority

Beginning with self-reflection, we can think about our individual place within longer histories of racial oppression. Reading, viewing or listening to new perspectives can prepare us to talk honestly with our family, colleagues and neighbors. Whether having spontaneous or planned conversations, think about what you’d like to accomplish with the time and insight you have at the moment. Then introduce new social concepts as the foundation for having more informed ongoing dialogue.

When shaping a conversation about race in public spaces, be aware of the power differentials between participants based on their identities. Don’t expect one person to represent the views of others who share the same racial identity. Make space for less prominent voices to contribute voluntarily, respecting people’s boundaries around what they feel comfortable sharing publicly. Discussions proceed best when mutual trust is established.

In pursuing racial justice, we must challenge ourselves to repeatedly ask a crucial question: What role has racism played in creating the conditions around me? By doing so, we expose the myths of white superiority — in our traditions, symbols, policies and language (as with metaphors of darkness as evil).

Finally, we can talk about race responsively, ready to act. To move beyond conversations to lasting change, we must implement steps, goals and realistic timelines for transformation. We have to marshal our various resources of time, funding and collaboration toward dismantling inequality.

I am always pleased to hear from past students who write back to say that, yes, learning more about race, gender, class and social difference equipped them as more critical thinkers and ethical leaders as alumni. Yet, especially in the wake of national crises in 2020, our need to address racism is much too urgent to wait for awakenings years from now.

So, yes, let’s keep talking about race. There is more to say. But much more than that, there is more to do.