5 Questions About Race That I am Asked Regularly As An Ally
Should you capitalise the B in Black?
What about the w in white?
Can we still say blacklist?
What about blackboard?
Can I talk about race if I am white?
As the founder of a company called Powered By Diversity, you can imagine I get asked questions like this a lot. People want to do and say the right thing and I think they feel safe asking me without worrying that they will personally offend me - as I have never been on the receiving end of racism.
I also used to think that as a white woman, I shouldn’t talk about any of this publicly.
But then I realised that that was the worst thing I could do.
1. So, should you capitalise the B in Black?
Personally, I capitalise the B in Black when referring to Black as an ethnicity. Black is an ethnicity, a core part of people’s identity, it’s a rich culture, a history, a community…
Whereas black is a colour.
Look at hair as an example, black hair and Black hair are two different things when an upper case B is used to differentiate them. Black hair is often black, but black hair is not always Black hair.
I know Black people who do capitalise and loads who don’t. It’s a personal choice, my personal choice is the capital B.
2. If Black as an ethnicity has a capital B, should white as an ethnicity have a capital W?
White is an ethnicity and can be a core part of people’s identity with a rich culture, a history and even a community…
Personally I don’t capitalise the w in white for a few reasons.
The capital B, for me, is more about inclusion and reparation than grammar. I don’t agree with the default to male in the English language (‘chairman’, ‘man hours’, ‘policeman’-meaning-everyone) just as I don’t agree that we should capitalise the w in white. Both are technically grammatically correct, but it’s not about that.
I love a correctly used apostrophe as much as the next person (I really do), but I don’t agree that ‘what’s technically, grammatically correct’ should ever override one's drive for inclusion and equity.
If someone is reaching for their copy of the Oxford Dictionary of Etymology to make a point about why people shouldn’t be offended by their use of language - they’ve missed the point entirely.
I agree with the reparation sentiment in Ann Price’s words;
“Until the wrongs against Black people have been righted, we cannot embrace equal treatment in our language.”
3. Can we still say blacklist?
This conversation is all about the context in which black and white (the colours) have historically been used to denote bad and good.
Whitelist is fine, safe, let them through, no danger, admission automatically granted.
Blacklist? Unsafe, bad, wrong, dangerous, deny entry, danger!
You can see how this reflects the reality of race-based inequity in the world today.
Personally I use “blocklist” and “allowlist” and I recommend all of our customers to just be conscious of when they encounter language that is black/ dark = bad and white/ light = good - and to look for alternatives.
4. What about blackboard?
Personally I think this one was made up by the same group of people who are also fans of the phrase “we can’t say anything anymore”, just to add a bit more juice to their day.
I have never met a person, of any ethnicity, that has objected to the use of the word blackboard.
Being able to get to a point where you can filter out the red herrings like these, thrown in by the “we can’t say anything anymore” crew just to spark outrage and fuel the comments section is an important step on your journey to allyship.
As a general rule of thumb, if it feels like a red herring to stir up outrage, or derail EDI efforts, it may well be. Do your own research, double check with a close friend who has lived experience and if you’re still not 100%, err on the side of caution and find another word (in this case you can just use chalkboard).
5. Can I talk about race if I am white?
I used to think I wasn’t allowed to talk about race.
When I started in EDI full time I stuck to my lane; gender equality, working parents - things I had lived experience of. I thought I was doing the right thing, but the truth was that I was being a bystander.
Then I did the work. Properly. I won’t go into it because there’s nothing worse than a white person who’s ‘seen the light’ and wants to wax lyrical about it in front of people who’ve spent a lifetime experiencing the thing you’ve been entirely complicit in ‘til, like, 5 minutes ago.
Suffice it to say that I saw the world in a new way. Everything looked different, everything sounded different and I couldn’t stop seeing the racism. Everywhere.
Then it wasn’t a matter of “I can’t” anymore.
it was a matter of “how can I not?”
Around that time I was asked to be on an antiracism panel and that experience changed my mind entirely about the role white people have to play in antiracism. It was soon after the murder of George Floyd and emotions were high. I was the only white person on the panel, and it was going out live. You can imagine my feelings.
But what got me to say yes to speak publicly about race as a white person, was a conversation beforehand with a friend. I asked him, do you think racism has lessened?
And he said no, it’s just become less socially acceptable so it’s gone underground. It's still as bad as before, but now it’s insidious and furtive - which makes it even harder to fight.
As a white person I am privy to a lot of conversations that would never happen in front of a person who experiences racism. I am like a white antiracism mole; under cover. My skin colour grants me access - and I have the chance to change things from the inside.
As a white person I can field basic questions that would, without a doubt, offend, exhaust or deeply hurt a person who experiences racism. I have boundless energy to answer all manner of “but don’t all lives matter?” type questions, because they don’t emotionally floor me on a personal level.
I would take all of those on, for all eternity if it means they’re not being asked of a person who worries that their 13 year old son will be terrifyingly arrested whilst on a charity bike ride with his dad - or that their 15 year old daughter might be strip searched in school.
I’m digging into a privileged bag of white words and experiences with which to norm with people and find ways to explain things in terms they can understand. I’m not digging into an open wound to search for fresh new ways to explain the same thing me and my community have been saying in a million different ways, for hundreds of years. I can put it into terms that white people understand without triggering fragility.
And whilst on that point, I have the privilege to be able to become impassioned about antiracism - and nobody will ever write me off as an aggressive, angry Black woman. I can bring all the emotion if I want to, I can rage, shout, stamp, cry - and people will say at best “she really cares about this” or at worst “woke snowflake”.
And I will still have my position and I won’t get fired, and people will not be afraid to talk to me or disagree with me.
And that is just some of the reasons why I will always talk about race.
having said that, there need to be rules I feel, in white people talking about antiracism. My personal ones are that I don’t profit from any work I do personally as an antiracist. If there is a fee for a panel, I will ask that it be added to the fees for my fellow speakers who personally experience racism - anonymously - or donated to an antiracist charity. For me, a white person talking about race absolutely cannot be a profit making exercise.
I will never use antiracism to further myself. I won’t write and post articles to boost my personal brand, drive traffic to my website or sell anything other than our Collective’s antiracism services (and all our Collective always speak with lived experience).
I advocate and I ally. I never take the place of. So I wouldn’t do work in antiracism, in the place of a person with lived experience. I will happily add my white person perspective, but that’s all.
In talking about race as a white person you’re always at risk of people saying this or that, just the same as talking about anything in public - people will say this or that. If your intentions are good and you have done your work, you have nothing to fear but your own ego getting a poke.
My advice would be to put your ego away in a box in the attic and get started.
White people can - and urgently need to - talk about race.
About the author
Multi award winning digital product creator Cat Wildman decided in 2017 to channel her frustration with the lack of effective action in D&I into a solution. Turning her core values into a business, Cat went on a mission to find like-minded people who shared her feelings of personal responsibility to make change happen - and Powered By Diversity was born.
About the Collective
The Powered By Diversity Collective works with Powered By Diversity to produce a wealth of lived experience playbooks, videos and other training materials to give businesses the tools to create a truly equitable, diverse and inclusive workplace.
Further materials (available though subscription to the Powered By Diversity award winning data platform)
An Allies' Guide to Anti-Racism for the Workplace (free resource)
What You Need to Know About Unconscious Bias
Dawn Moreton-Young and her talk, 'Discussions Surrounding Race'. (free video)
Black Hair Story (video event with Nkechi Allen-Dawson, available with Cultural Calendar Club subscription)
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