From what I've noticed, white supremacists often have conflicted feelings about Jewish people. On one hand, they're quick to stereotype and ostracize them. On the other, they love using the Jewish community as an example of white people being oppressed based on race (never mind the fact that Jewish people were oppressed for being Jewish, not for being white, and were even considered an ethnic minority as a means to justify the persecution. Also, they were attacked by other white Europeans, not POC). Additionally, racists often assume that all Muslims are anti-Jewish and will cling to that as an Islamophobic stereotype, even if they themselves feel hostile toward Jewish people.

Another factor I've noticed is how they will either say that race isn't the same as nationality/religion or that it is, depending on whether that will further the "white people are oppressed" narrative. This is a pattern that occurs often:

Person: "White people are targeted. Look at what happened to the Irish and the Jews!"

Then the same person will rail against affirmative action, calling it "racism against whites." When told that Irish and Jewish scholarships exist and benefit a lot of white people, they'll backtrack and say, "Well, that doesn't count because those benefits are based on nationality/religion, not race."

Blather, rinse, repeat.

Raceless?

There’s a viral video by Prince Ea which has the tagline “I Am NOT Black, You are NOT White. These Labels were Made Up to Divide Us.” It’s a sentiment I’ve heard pretty often. While that often comes from benevolent intentions, it misses a necessary point.

Scientifically, there may not be much of a delineation between races, if any. And it’s absolutely true that none is innately more intelligent, capable, or worthy of being treated with dignity and afforded rights than another. But it sets us back to ignore the fact that our society continues to uphold a very Eurocentric, white supremacist standard, and that arguing that “whiteness” and “blackness” are just constructs doesn’t erase that from existence. The problem isn’t that we recognize aesthetic and cultural differences. The problem is that we place white culture and white aesthetics on a pedestal and set that as the standard by which all others are measured. When we decide not to see race, we also decide not to see racism. We decide not to see patterns of discrimination. After all, there’s no basis on which to call Jim Crow racist if we cannot acknowledge that it was white Americans oppressing black ones; if we just call it “people oppressing people.” Which it was, but to ignore the specific hierarchy is to dismiss the experiences of so many. Ignoring and denying a problem by saying its very definition is invalid doesn’t stop it from existing.

I have seen this manifest in several damaging, dismissive ways. When the Charleston church shooting occurred, there was a viral post featuring a newspaper headline with a hand blocking out the words “white” and “black,” so that it read “Man Shoots Up Church” instead of “White Man Shoots Up Black Church.” The meme said underneath, “The media is trying to divide us.” But to ignore the fact that this was a racially motivated hate crime is extremely harmful, and to say it has nothing to do with race is a lie. The shooter himself said it was racially motivated. Accepting that as truth isn’t “dividing” people; it’s being honest. He was the one trying to divide people by shooting up a black church.

This rhetoric is also damaging when used to reject “Black Lives Matter.” The blogger Onision recently tweeted, “Black Lives Matter--What the fuck is a ‘black life’??? Last time I checked, we’re all just people.” Obviously we’re all people, and the Black Lives Matter campaign has never denied this. What it highlights is the fact that people who are socially designated as black are all too often treated as though their lives don’t matter, and so taking pride in your black identity and proclaiming that your life matters is an act of empowerment. Essentially saying “Well, racism is your fault because you identify as black” is incredibly callous.

Additionally, I’ve noticed that most of the people spreading the “We’re all one race, so stop labeling yourself white or black” message are white. This doesn’t seem coincidental. Us white people can afford to see ourselves as raceless and to disassociate ourselves from our ethnicity; others don’t have that luxury because of how others treat them. This includes some people of minority races who have internalized those attitudes, but that ultimately doesn’t benefit them. Also, a lot of white people will say “there are no races” and then go on to spread propaganda about white people being persecuted by minorities, without awareness of the contradiction.

I’ve observed in my own life that whenever I’ve been “colorblind,” I’ve ended up inadvertently erasing people of color. This happens when I draw. This happens when I reblog photos on Tumblr. Unless I make a conscious effort to include people of color in the media I create and repost, they end up unrepresented. This is because I am not immune from subconscious racism, either. I’m not exempt from seeing white people as raceless default humans. This is why it’s necessary to be aware of this bias rather than deny and ignore it. We shouldn’t only be able to acknowledge that someone’s life matters when their non-white ethnicity is taken out of the equation.

The black feminist writer Audre Lorde once said, “It is not our differences that divide us. It is our inability to recognize, accept, and celebrate those differences.” This is a situation to which this definitely applies.

Racist mentalities can change with shifting values, not just "an appeal to the facts."

Facts won’t dissuade people who are stubbornly invested in racism. The fact that Freddie Gray’s death was ruled a second degree murder and that six cops have been arrested won’t mean anything to them. The fact that his arrest was deemed illegal won’t make a difference. They will be unmoved by the fact that even Fox News of all networks is now acknowledging this happened. They’ll still say, “Oh, that ruling was only made to appease the black people. More proof that they’re privileged and oppressing whites.” I’ve heard this point of view expressed loudly from white people who are still somehow convinced that they’re “not allowed” to say it. I’ve also seen Fox’s desperate scramble to try to imply that this wasn’t a race issue because several of the cops involved were non-white. Those accepting this explanation don’t recognize internalized racism and how, in the end, it still serves white supremacist aims.

Talking about this is not “making it about race.” It was already about race and class; talking about that is just acknowledging it. And it’s funny how CNN commenters will make that claim, yet think that making sweeping criticisms of the black population and accusing them of “separating themselves” is somehow not making it about race. This public discussion, of course, is littered by cries of “Why do you have to keep bringing up the past?” Abridged answer: Because the past leaks into the present and future, and because talking about history is a way of recognizing patterns. It’s noticeable how the white people who say they feel no guilt or responsibility for things that other white people did throughout history are the ones who feel so threatened by others bringing up that past. If they really thought it had nothing to do with them, they wouldn’t get defensive.

It’s not hard to be a white person, whatever some might say. I can understand how it might be really hard to be a cop at this time—not a white cop specifically, but a cop in general. It probably feels like people are making assumptions or that these kinds of posts are directed at them individually. But if a cop is not doing or supporting these things, then these posts don’t apply to them. And part of being a progressive, helpful cop is not only refraining from corruption and abuse, but reporting it when they see it in other officers. Part of it is not immediately assuming that another officer must have been in the right, but taking a careful and honest look at what they did. And it’s recognizing that those of us who are against this are not necessarily “against all cops” or solely blaming police officers, but seeing that the police abuse that does exist is part of a larger pattern of oppression. It’s also recognizing that while it may be hard to be a police officer, it’s a much greater challenge to live as a non-white person in America—and yes, there are also those who fit both categories. They need to be recognized, but not used as tokens to derail the topic.

Facts won’t matter to everyone, but that doesn’t mean that those who won’t accept facts are hopeless. Before they can be receptive, they need to come to a point where they no longer feel inclined to cling to white defensiveness (whether or not they are white). That turning point may differ from person to person, but the results are the same and will lead to a true and healthy unity.

The unlearning process

It's amazing how many racist opinions are expressed by people who claim they're not "allowed" to express them. So many bigoted statements start off with, "Well, I'm not allowed to say this, but..." But they are allowed. They're not being censored if they're finishing the sentence without receiving one. People are abundantly vocal about those opinions at home and in bars and while shouting things from car windows and blogging in all caps, and you don't see them being swarmed by the SWAT team for expressing their ideas. The same crowd will swear up and down that the very bigotry they're expressing "doesn't exist" anymore. They do not understand that it exists in themselves and all the others who bluster about things they supposedly "can't" discuss (but always do).

I know that mentality all too well because I grew up espousing it. Not bullying people of other races or using slurs, but definitely having a huge white persecution complex while ranting about things I was "not allowed" to talk about. I thought I held such a bravely unique opinion, even though there were always other white people who enthusiastically agreed. It's an acerbic pill to swallow when you realize that racism is still alive and well and that it's largely because of the attitudes you cling to (not just you as an individual, but also many others like yourself). But if you have the power to contribute to harm, then you also have the power to help. Sometimes I screw up those efforts, and sometimes catch myself still carrying certain biases that need to be let go. That's all the more reason to never stop trying.

I think a lot of racist beliefs, particularly the myth that whites are being oppressed en masse by minorities, stem from a sense of powerlessness. It can be imagined, or it can be based on other factors (such as poverty, disability, etc. Those are genuine causes of disenfranchisement, but none of them are due to being white). While that is a horrible feeling, the prospect of accepting that you do have a certain amount of power can be terrifying. It means you're accountable for your actions and have a responsibility to use that power to improve things. Taking responsibility for the part one played in racism is not "white guilt." If anything, excessive guilt puts us on the defensive and keeps us from moving forward. The objective is to learn from it, share that knowledge with other white people who are unaware (either willfully so or just sheltered), and always be willing to learn from those of different ethnicities who face actual racism. Not to demand that they educate us, but to believe their experiences and give them priority in those discussions.

Almost nobody likes to think they're scapegoating an oppressed group, so they have to view the world through a mirror image. It allows them to primarily gaze at their own reflection without actually doing any reflecting. It causes them to see things backwards—they’re really the persecuted underdog while the other is the oppressor. And it appears full and tactile but is actually just a flat surface, two dimensional. Luckily, it can also eventually be shattered and allow them to see past themselves.
             I went through this six years ago when I was twenty-two, shortly after leaving home. I'm sure I still get a lot of things wrong, but this is one area in which the view is now far less obscured than before, and it's no credit to me. It's because of teachers and friends and books. It's because of the internet. It's because the scenery has changed. If you've experienced this, you know that sometimes the vision becomes sharp and stings your eyes, but it's worth it. You can't walk around with them closed after you've seen behind the glass.