I’m a Racist (and 5 Steps I’m Taking Toward Anti-Racism)

My name is Priti Nemani, and I am a racist.

I am a South Asian American, and I am a racist.

I am the daughter of immigrants, and I am a racist.

I am a woman, and I am a racist.

I have been and often am the victim of racism, and I am a racist.

While I cannot recall a time where I made fun of someone for the color of their skin or when I attacked someone because they looked different than me, I am a racist.

You might be confused because you thought that, unless you say and do expressly racist things, you would never be considered racist. You’ve never burned a cross on someone’s lawn. You’ve never used racial slurs against a person of color. Neither have I, but guess what?

I AM A RACIST.

Allow me to allay your confusion.

For me, being a racist started with my birth as a South Asian American woman. While you may be thinking that a South Asian American would be blameless of racism given my own status as a minority, allow me to remind you that the unyielding backbone of racism is privilege. Although my privilege is not like Karen’s, the assumptions that I enjoy as a result of being South Asian American and a member of the Model Minority are powerful.

My privilege allows me to do the following without thinking twice:

1. People assume that I am a hard worker and responsible because I am Asian.
2. People assume that I am disciplined because I am Asian.
3. People assume that I will be cooperative in nearly all situations.
4. People assume that I am submissive and quiet, which translates into being someone who does not pose a risk to the safety of others.
5. I can positively engage with law enforcement officials without fear for my life or my safety in a majority of situations.
6. I can be in an elevator with white people who do not clutch their purses out of fear of my person.
7. People assume that I am college educated.
8. People assume that I am polite and well-spoken.
9. People assume that I am a (albeit distant and not entirely welcome) cousin of whiteness and not the opposite of whiteness.
10. People assume that South Asian cultural events are harmless, safe, and fun, even though they are different from white cultural events.
11. People assume that I am cooperative, easy to work with and that I am not a difficult woman.
12. People assume that I have a home, that I can read, that I am educated, that I have spiritual and moral values.
13. People assume that I am unfamiliar with guns and violence.
14. People assume that I have money to spend when I shop.
15. If pulled over by the police, I am granted due process of the law and can ask about why I’ve been stopped. I do not have to be afraid of physical violence by the police.
16. If I am at a public gathering, I am not singled out by security or law enforcement because of the color of my skin.
17. If I have children, I probably don’t have to tell them how to act around the police.
18. My neighbors are not afraid of me.
19. People assume that I am innocent of wrongdoing when they look at me.
20. I’ve never had someone call the police on me for walking in the park or going for a jog.

These are just 20 of the many ways that I have privilege.. And, again, I am a person of color. I am a brown woman, and I have significant privilege. Instead of continuing to list how my privilege shows, let me sum it up for you in 8 words.

I enjoy an assumption of not being Black.

Need more?

I enjoy an assumption of not being Black, and my failure to rebut this assumption is racism.

My racism, seemingly quiet, is, in fact, the catalyst of a devastatingly painful reverberation, particularly when coupled with millions upon millions of other people who like me, fail to question their privilege. By accepting my privilege (though qualified as it may be by my own race), I have volunteered for racism. By failing to challenge my own privilege, I have implicitly accepted the task to carry out the oppressive goals of a racist majority.

It is easy to say, “No more,” and that, yes, I’ve checked my privilege. It is easy to engage in showmanship and performances of anti-racism by throwing up re-posts and shares. It is easy to put a sign in your front yard.

You know what’s not easy? Questioning why you get to enjoy your freedom in the first place when others that are identically situated do not. Why is it that the young Black man that was born at the same moment as me in the same town as me never received the same privileges as me?

You know what else isn’t easy? Staying focused on dismantling racism. Doing more than just identifying your own privilege. Once you’ve accepted your privilege, you have to do more than just feel guilty.

Why? Why doesn’t your guilt actually make the system change?

Because, quite simply, if guilt alone could change the system, we wouldn’t be having this conversation today.

George Floyd would be alive. Breonna Taylor would be alive. Ahmaud Arbery would be alive. Rayshard Brooks would be alive. Tamir Rice would be alive. Laquan McDonald would be alive. Sandra Bland would be alive. Michael Brown would be alive. Eric Garner would be alive. Black parents wouldn’t have to have the Talk with their kids to explain to them that the police can hurt you. Black families wouldn’t be afraid every time their loved one leaves the house. Black people would be able to exist freely without fear, like the rest of their American brothers and sisters. Black people would be afforded their constitutional rights. Black lives would matter.

Guilt is useless, but guilt transformed into action is powerful. Self-awareness, including awareness of your own privilege and your individual contribution to a system that oppresses some of our citizens and not others, is the opposite of guilt. It is the moment when you realize that you have privilege, and having privilege means having power. It means having a step up in being heard.

Therefore, I — the racist — am working to transform my guilt and past uselessness into something of actual impact. While I am trying to do as much as I can to externally support the BLM Movement, I’m taking time to look at my life, including my relationships, my actions, and my inactions, to genuinely understand how the variety of ways through which I have participated in or otherwise fostered systemic racism.

I write this post not to show you that I’ve changed overnight. I write this post to share that accepting my role in contributing to the unacceptable status quo as it relates to our BIPOC brothers and sisters has given me a chance to do better and do more. That said, I to invite you to join me in these 5 steps to hold yourself and your community accountable for playing a part in the systemic racism that has and continues to oppress BIPOC communities every day.

1. Write out your privilege.

For me, writing just 20 instances of my privilege took less than 10 minutes, and the efficiency of this exercise horrifies me. We cannot change problems internally or externally until we admit that they exist. Write it out. Read it. As my brilliant friend Thyannda Mack (IG: @thymack) of Inclusive Resolutions, LLC says: “Sit with your discomfort.” Thyannda urges allies to first acknowledge and sit with our discomfort, and then do something about it. (Yes, you should check her out NOW.)

2. Post with Intention.

If you’re going to repost or share something on social media, review the posted item carefully to prepare yourself for any arguments that may come up. If you can voice your support for the Movement, you can voice your support against opponents of the Movement. Don’t post and bail. Don’t post and falter. Post and show up when the opposition voices their opinions. Post and defend your position. Post with intention and without anonymity. If you’re going to use your fingers to post the article, use your voice to defend it.

3. Inventory your current relationships, and let go as needed.

Question your current relationships, and break up with the ones that don’t align with your values. Who are your professional bed fellows? Where do you generate your business? Where do you network? What kinds of clients does your company take on? Take inventory of your relationships — personal, professional, and organizational alike — and identify the connections that prefer inaction and silence over a change to equality. Think deeply on whether those connections are worth maintaining. How do the spaces where you network look in terms of diversity? Are there BIPOC and NBPOC individuals present? If so, are they being welcomed into the space with the same fervor as white attendees?

Many organizations have put out statements in support of the Movement, but have they put money into giving life to those statements of support? If the organization doesn’t have the financial backing to contribute to the Movement, how else are they contributing to equality and ending systemic racism? Are they engaging with Black leaders about how to make change, or did their commitment to the Movement end after #blackouttuesday.

Remember how your parents used to say, “You are the company you keep?” Well, that rule still applies.

Yes, breaking up is hard to do. No, you can’t have your cake and eat it too. You can’t be a supporter of the BLM movement and be affiliated with organizations that are not taking meaningful steps to dialogue about systemic racism and create positive change. Don’t be a hypocrite. Hold yourself AND the company that you keep to the highest standard of humanity. I’ve been breaking up left and right, and it sucks.

Breaking up sucks, but you know what’s worse?

Being a traitor to your own values.

Betraying your values is worse than breaking up.

That’s the worst.

Racism permeates every aspect of our society. To pretend that racism is not your problem or my problem is not only ignorant, but it is to contribute to the toxic status quo that breeds racism against BIPOC communities and individuals wherever they go.

Give yourself permission to repurpose your agency and your platform. Give yourself this permission and find freedom. Now that I’ve mostly eradicated the spaces and individuals in my life that do not share my core values of anti-racism, I can tell you that I feel FREE. I was sad at first, but now I am free! I am now free to support the Movement as I wish and put my money, time, and energy into organizations that share my values with members that share my values. These people will become part of my new eco-system, and I welcome them with open arms.

4. Identify your role within the Movement.

The truth is that no person can do everything that is needed to make real change. This is a beautiful fact, really. Something I’ve been doing is reflecting on my values and how I can make the most of my personal skillset to serve the Movement. To that end, I encourage you to check out a tool that I’ve been using. “Mapping Our Roles in Social Change Ecosystems” is a dynamic tool created by activist, author, and movement builder Deepa Iyer of SolidarityIs and Building Movement Project, that walks you through a series of questions and reflection points to determine what role you should play within a social change movement.

“In our lives and as part of movements and organizations, many of us play different roles in pursuit of equity, shared liberation, inclusion, and justice. And yet, we often get lost and confused, or we are newcomers to ongoing social change efforts and don’t know where to start, or we are catalyzed into action in the midst of a crisis in our community. This is a framework that can help individuals, networks, and organizations align and get in right relationship with social change values, individual roles, and the broader ecosystem.” Deepa Iyer, “Mapping Our Roles in Social Change Ecosystems”,” SolidarityIs and Building Movement Project.

5. Make new friends.

Even though you might not be keeping some of your old friends, that’s OK. Now is the time to focus on creating new relationships and reinvigorating old relationships. One of the beautiful parts of the BLM Movement that I’ve experienced is connecting with strangers or acquaintances that are more socially aware and engaged than I expected. I’ve met many people that have surprised me with their willingness to “sit in their discomfort,” engage in the difficult conversations, do the manual work that goes into creating grassroots movement, contribute money that they don’t have, and support efforts to keep the movement going, and these people, from all walks of life and all backgrounds, are my new eco-system. Unintentionally, these new connections have healed my heart, broken from recent friend breakups. My new friends inspire me. They motivate me. They challenge me to work harder, do more, think bigger. These new friends are not afraid to check my privilege. They are not afraid to take the initiative. They share my commitment to making change.

Together, we are not perfect nor are we the same (thankfully). In our diversity, we share a common goal — to end systemic racism and the oppression of Black lives in every aspect of American society, and our commitment to this goal is unyielding. The thing is, some friends grow together, and others grow apart, and if you grow apart because of a difference in values, give yourself permission to let go and start over. I promise that starting over with the right people is better than continuing to stay stagnant with the wrong ones.

As you do this work, as you have the hard conversations and let go of toxic forces in your life to make way for positive change, I encourage you to always remember the goal. Remind yourself of the big picture. Remember George Floyd, Rayshard Brooks, Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, Tamir Rice, Michael Brown, Eric Garner, Laquan McDonald, Sandra Bland. Remember the millions of Black Americans who have been oppressed, brutalized, marginalized by this country. Remember what you’re fighting for and let that fill your heart.

Keep fighting. We have a long way to go. This is a marathon, and not a sprint. Keep the faith. I’m also here to listen and help you navigate this moment. I’m not an expert, but I’m a human, and we will do the best we can together.

Lastly, this post shares internal steps to take as we evolve into an anti-racist society, but please keep doing the external work. Vote, donate, petition, protest, mobilize, organize, write, call, dialogue. DO. Don’t stop. This is not a trend. This is not a fad. Real lives are being lost due to systemic racism, and we must all fight for our world to become a place where our Black brothers and sisters receive the equity and the equality that has been denied to BIPOC communities for so long. We can do this, but don’t give up. Don’t stop doing the work at home or in your community.

Until later.

Yours, In Power,

Priti