So now, after all that snark in the Questions about people who believe in sincere good faith that they don’t need no stinkin’ spiritual healing of White racism, we might be forgiven, to use a certain word, if the mere suggestion that we might be needing forgiveness, let alone any other kind of healing, which right there implies that we’re not perfect, might just make us mad, or otherwise miserable. Perfectionism is as deeply embedded in Whiteness as it is in the family disease of alcoholism, and if we’ve been conditioned to believe that being perfect at all times is a matter of life or death, anything implying that we might be in any way other than perfect can feel life-threatening. In fact, there was a time when at the slightest hint that I might not be perfect—“Miss, you dropped a glove!”—I could go from zero to burning shame and anger in a nanosecond; it was only after decades of spiritual discipline that I started hearing myself say, “Oh, thank you!”—and meaning it.
The demands of Whiteness come at White people from all angles, and one of the most terrifying imperfections Whiteness can be accused of is White racism, so of course the urge to put a halt immediately to any discussion of White racism—that imperfection I couldn’t possibly have, or I’ll die—is fierce. And then, even deeper than our guilt and shame about unconscious racism may be the guilt aroused by rebelling against a core ancestral belief that has been drummed into us since babyhood: that the good people of all colors are the ones who defend Whiteness at all costs. Replicating and passing on inherited character defects being in its own way a form of filial piety, getting over those character defects may feel like a betrayal—impious and ungrateful.
The term “race traitor” for White people who break ranks did not arise in a vacuum. Never mind that loyalty to a sick system is not generally very nicely rewarded, and that when we cast off the shackles of the sick system of White supremacy we are being loyal to ourselves, and to the human race. Guilt is the hook most commonly used to try to ensnare us anew. That guilt may even be the motivator for running away from our moments of solidarity: if you’re a White person who was all involved in Black Lives Matter until someone broke a window, so now you can’t think well of Black people anymore—that’s great! Welcome back into the Tribe of White.
Then there’s adding injury to insult, when forgiveness is urged upon us by people who are being, to use a certain word, unforgivably annoying. When it isn’t a sociopath’s dream—can’t we just let bygones be bygones, so I can have a clean slate to hurt and harm you all over again without having to face any consequences?—it might be telling victims of hurt and harm that they must forgive in order to be free, or to be healed, or to move on, all of which is just another form of abuse.
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