I am racist

I am racist.


Now, before my friends jump up to assure me that I am not - because that statement makes them uncomfortable, because, "fuck, if Bill is racist, what does that make me?" - read on.


I am racist, but I hope I am not A RACIST. I do not have any conscious intentions of acting in a racist way, and I most assuredly desire the end of the inequalities in the world. I loathe the institutional and cultural racism I see and actively do try to be a force for ending it. Yet, I am racist.


Years ago, a couple amazing friends pointed out some problematic things I was saying that were racist. I was extremely defensive because I knew I was not A RACIST, and how dare they question my intentions? I confronted them quite angrily, asking them if they thought I was A RACIST because my feeling THEN was, "if I am not A RACIST, then what I say isn't racist."


I maintained that view for way too long after that initial confirmation, doubling down and even being that guy that thought he could use the N word with his black friends because, "they know I'm not A RACIST." That same faulty 'logic' was applied to other marginalised groups when I would 'jokingly' use derogatory language about LGBTQ+, women, etc. because I was certain my friends in those communities appreciated that I was an ally and was going to fix the world for them by "taking those words back." After all, I knew I was not A RACIST, A HOMOPHOBE, A MISOGYNIST, etc.


I defended that horribly wrong position, but there were cracks developing from that first confrontation (as far as my memory goes – at least it is the first I clearly remember) even as I hunkered down into those views.


The next big hit to that wall of crap I had surrounded myself with was when an otherwise lovely, older gentleman that I worked with was openly using the same kind of language I had used, but something about it felt wrong to me. There was a venom in what I heard that I could not deny.


I was now living in the UK and did not yet know many of the regional derogatory terms used, but there was something about the way he said certain words which just felt wrong. When I asked him what (I will just call it) the W word meant, his demeanour changed to that somewhat flustered defensive thing that almost always indicates someone trying to defend what they know is wrong. He explained how that was the name of a black character mascot for an old product and how he wasn't A RACIST but he didn't agree with all of this political correctness, and "why should I have to give up a word I have used my whole life. After all it is not as bad as using the N word (my memory is not clear if he actually used the full word or not) which they call themselves all the time, but we can't?"


I was thinking, “this is a work environment, this isn't you hanging out with your mates. This is not the time or place to say these things.” So, I told him as much. He did exactly what I had done with my friends years before and angrily asked if I was calling him A RACIST. I said, "no, but saying that at work is not okay, and if someone heard you and took offense, you could get in real trouble." Somehow, I was more worried about his getting in trouble than his behaviour.


After that incident, this man that I had looked up to and held in high regard, started treating me like the enemy. He doubled down on the racist quips and started mixing in homophobic and sexist 'jokes' whenever we were together.


Eventually, I confronted him again and asked him to just not say these things around me because it really bothered me. At that point, I was still trying to "respect my elder." He said he would and even did comply for about a week. Then he started back up and it kept ramping up from there. I tried to nicely ask him to stop a few more times but eventually I had to go to HR and file an official complaint. Oh, was work fun after that! Still, I knew I had done the right thing and had the support of everyone else in the department as far as I could tell, even though I did have some folks ask if there was not a better way of dealing with it.


Those cracks that my friends had put in the wall years before had just been pummelled by this wrecking ball, and huge sections of that racist, sexist, homophobic, et al. wall were beginning to crumble. That was when I started to realise what my friends had meant. "Fucking hell, is that what people think about me? Do I sound like that? Was I upsetting my friends as much as he was upsetting me?"


Even then, I continued to use the same horrible language when I felt safe with other friends, who I knew were also not A RACIST, when we would joke and mess about as we justified doing so because we were making fun of RACISTS. Yes, we were all fancied ourselves comedians on the side of righteousness.


Still, I found myself constantly thinking about all of it and noticing more and more how free people felt using this kind of language while also beginning to hear my friends in marginalised groups saying how that kind of language affected them and made them feel even when their friends used those terms. Not that they all suddenly started talking about it. No, I suddenly started listening.


It occurred to me at that time that I might have made people I love feel upset or as if I valued them somehow less because of my choice to use this language. After all, free speech and my rights. I mean, "they know me and should know my intentions," right?


Way too slowly, an unease crept over me, and I started feeling guilty about the bad feelings I was causing in the people I love.


I have a family member that I cherish, respect, and am truly inspired by that also happens to be gay. I was about 12 or 13 when they came out, and I remember being shocked at the reaction that some people had at the time. I even got angry and screamed that those reactions were ridiculous, that they are the exact same person they were before telling us, and how the hell is who they love any of our business anyway?


It truly did not matter to me that they were gay. I loved them and admired them regardless. I just wanted them to be happy, and I was proud of them for standing up and insisting on being accepted for who they are. None the less, I still freely used homophobic terms and told gay jokes as I had before, even right in front of them. After all I was not A HOMOPHOBE.


After the epiphany I had from the work situation I described above coupled with the introspection I had been doing, I talked to my beloved family member and asked if they knew I did not mean to be offensive and said I was sorry "if” they had felt offended. I still was not fully owning up to my responsibility for my words and my actions.


They told me how much it had deeply hurt them when I said those horrible things, but they had put up with it and didn't push it when I would get defensive at their pointing it out to me because they loved me and didn't want to risk pushing me away.


I want you to go back and read that last paragraph again. I will wait.


I was destroyed. I was destroyed to realise how utterly selfish, self-righteous, and horrible I had been. I was destroyed that I had somehow let someone else justify their suffering for my ignorance and privilege. I was destroyed that, for my whole life. I had been the direct cause of pain to someone I loved so much, yet I had always been more concerned with MY rights than their wellbeing. I did not recognise that grotesque 'face in the mirror', but I knew that I could not deny it was me any longer.


Of course, I apologised profusely, and they accepted and reassured me that they loved me as they always had, even at my worst. No matter how I seemed to try, the reality I had to accept was that in the end, it was always about me for my own sake, and I suddenly felt the desperate need to fix that person that I was looking at in that mirror. How many others that belong to other marginalized groups had sat quietly by, suffering as I spewed horribly painful bile at them under the cloak of jokes and ‘good natured ribbing’ because they feared my reaction to their pain just wasn’t worth it? How long and how many people had felt they had to accept my stupid ‘intentions’ over their absolutely justifiable hurt?


Once I had made that determination and realised that it was high time I learned to truly listen, I understood that people had been trying to help me recognise my own privilege, some more directly than others, for ages.




The first time that word, privilege, made sense to me was when another cherished friend asked if I realised that I had the privilege of facing down an aggressive person simply because I am a 6’ 3” tall, 250+ pound man and that she did not have that privilege. Of course, she was absolutely right, and on some level, I had always known that, but I had never truly considered it.


At that point, the wall seemed to be crumbling down to nothing at an astonishing pace. There were even a few times when it felt as if the wall had been completely cleared away, but I managed to keep reminding myself to keep listening. In doing so, I discovered unseen chunks of that wall of ignorance and bigotry, and soon realised that those little bits of the wall could always be hidden under a bit of seemingly innocuous grass. Indeed, the foundations of that wall are buried deep and will take a lot of digging and hard work to break apart and disregard.


So, yes, I am indeed racist, homophobic, transphobic, sexist, and a great many other things that I disdain. I have these things within myself, but I refuse to allow these things to BE ME, and I am actively excavating to rid myself of these traits. I will endeavour to rid myself and the world of them. If you happen to notice a bit of my wall that I have not cleared away yet, I hope you all feel safe enough to point it out to me so I can see it too and get rid of it.


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