第 4 章
The Roots of Racial Thinking: How Power Created Race
Race is a power construct that lives socially despite being a scientific mirage. I experienced what I call "racial puberty" at seven years old when visiting Grace Lutheran School with my parents. I questioned why there was only one Black teacher among a majority Black student body. This awareness came after reading biographies of Black leaders that awakened my racial consciousness.
While race isn't scientifically meaningful, it matters because "our societies, our policies, our ideas, our histories, and our cultures have rendered race and made it matter." I identify as Black for cultural, historical, and political reasons, seeing myself as part of the global community of peoples who have been degraded by racist ideas.
The historical construction of race begins with Prince Henry the Navigator of Portugal, who created the first transatlantic slave-trading policies in the 15th century. His biographer Gomes de Zurara became the first "race maker" by grouping diverse African peoples into one category to justify their enslavement. Carl Linnaeus solidified the racial hierarchy in 1735 with his taxonomy, color-coding races with Europeans at the top and Africans at the bottom, ascribing fabricated characteristics to each group.
Contrary to common belief, racist policies came first, driven by self-interest, with racist ideas following to justify them-not the other way around. This insight is crucial: racism doesn't stem primarily from ignorance or hate, but from the economic and political self-interest of those in power. The ideas came afterward to rationalize the policies already in place.
Understanding this history helps us see that race, while not biologically real, has been made socially real through centuries of policy and practice. To be antiracist means recognizing this construction while working to dismantle the inequities it has created.
第 5 章
Beyond Biology: Debunking Myths of Racial Difference
The false concept of biological racial differences has been one of racism's most persistent and damaging myths. A biological racist is someone who expresses the idea that races are meaningfully different in their biology, creating a hierarchy of value. A biological antiracist, conversely, expresses the idea that races are meaningfully the same in their biology with no genetic racial differences.
Biological racism persists through common beliefs about supposed racial differences in physical ability, blood, intellect, and sexuality. Historically, this thinking developed through curse theory (misreading the biblical story of Ham), polygenesis (the theory that races are separate species with distinct creations), and eugenics. Though marginalized in academic thought after Nazi Germany, these ideas persist in common thinking.
In 2000, the Human Genome Project announced that all humans are 99.9% genetically identical, confirming our common humanity. Despite this scientific breakthrough, segregationists still focus on the 0.1% difference to justify racial hierarchies, while assimilationists promote a "post-racial" view that ignores the real social constructions of race.
Race is indeed a mirage, but one that humanity has organized itself around in very real ways. Ignoring racial categories prevents us from identifying racial inequity and challenging racist policies. We must acknowledge race as a social reality while rejecting the biological myths that have been used to justify racial hierarchies.
My own journey with biological racism included standing up to a racist teacher in third grade, being transferred to schools with Black teaching staff, and later participating in cruel joking as a teenager. I recall my reaction to the O.J. Simpson verdict, when Black Americans celebrated not because they believed Simpson innocent, but because they saw it as rare justice in a system that routinely failed Black victims.
The persistence of biological racist thinking shows how deeply embedded these ideas are in our culture. Even when science thoroughly debunks them, they find new expressions and continue to shape how we see ourselves and others. Becoming antiracist requires actively rejecting these myths and understanding how they serve to maintain racial hierarchies.
第 6 章
The Complexity of Identity: Ethnicity, Culture, and Behavior
Ethnic racism is a powerful collection of racist policies leading to inequity between racialized ethnic groups, substantiated by racist ideas about these groups. In contrast, ethnic antiracism leads to equity between these groups through policies and ideas that recognize their equal value.
As an eighth-grader, I participated in cruel jokes targeting Kwame, a Ghanaian classmate, paraphrasing dehumanizing comments about "barbaric and animalistic Africans" from the movie "Coming to America." These racist jokes originated from the slave trade era-ethnic racism is essentially the resurrected script of the slave trader.
The slave trade created market dynamics where enslavers ranked different African ethnic groups based on their perceived value as slaves. French planters favored Congolese as "magnificent blacks," while American planters valued Gold Coast (Ghana) captives as "the best and most faithful slaves." These hierarchies were justified with racist explanations about supposed inherent traits.
My childhood mockery of African peers stemmed partly from anger at continental Africans for supposedly selling "their own people." This "anachronistic memory" projects modern racial concepts onto an ethnic past. Africans involved in the slave trade didn't see themselves as selling "their own people" but rather individuals from different ethnic groups they considered as foreign as Europeans.
During the 1990s, immigrant populations of color grew dramatically in America following immigration reforms. While some African Americans were wary of Black immigrants, my family welcomed them. I spent time with Haitian neighbors but sensed a distance reflecting documented tensions between West Indian immigrants and African Americans. These dynamics contrast with earlier restrictive immigration laws like the 1924 Immigration Act that privileged Northern Europeans.
All ethnic groups become racialized under "race makers," creating hierarchies of value both globally and within nations. I've experienced people assuming I can't be African American because of my accomplishments, repeatedly asking where I'm "really from." When confronting a Ghanaian student who expressed ethnic racist ideas about African Americans, I helped him recognize the parallel to British racism against Ghanaians.
Cultural racism similarly creates hierarchies between racial groups, imposing standards that privilege certain expressions over others. As a teenager in Queens, I immersed myself in hip-hop culture, connecting with artists whose music spoke authentically to my experience. I defended hip-hop as sophisticated poetry against critics who claimed it reinforced stereotypes and hindered Black success.
When I moved from Queens to Virginia, I initially looked down on Southern Black culture, judging their go-go music, fashion, and speech patterns against my Queens standards. I eventually recognized this as cultural racism-"judging the culture in Manassas from the cultural standards of Black New York" was no different than "White America judging Latinx America from White America's cultural standards."
To be antiracist is to see all cultures in all their differences as on the same level, as equals. It means rejecting the idea that any cultural expression is inherently superior or inferior to another.
第 7 章
The Politics of Black Bodies: Violence, Perception, and Control
Racist ideas about Black bodies as inherently dangerous and violent have persisted throughout American history. Historical characterizations of Black people as "beasts" and "savages" connect directly to modern perceptions where Black bodies are seen as more threatening and requiring more force to control than White bodies.
A bodily racist perceives certain racialized bodies as more animal-like and violent than others, while a bodily antiracist humanizes, deracializes, and individualizes both violent and nonviolent behavior. This framing has justified lynchings, deportations, and mass incarceration of Black Americans.
As a teenager, I navigated perceived threats, from an encounter with a gun-wielding classmate to participating in a crew fight. My own fears about Black violence were shaped by racist ideas I had internalized. My parents' warnings about "dangerous" Black neighborhoods cultivated fear of my own community. Despite constant vigilance, the violence I feared rarely materialized.
Solutions to violence in Black communities must address economic opportunity through higher-paying jobs-Black youth unemployment topped 50% in the mid-1990s-while rejecting the concept of "dangerous racial groups." My own high school experience at overcrowded John Bowne was one of disengagement, where I merely "clocked in" without working, except on basketball, my "first love."
The perception of Black bodies as inherently dangerous serves to justify policies of surveillance, control, and punishment. These perceptions aren't accidental-they're the product of centuries of racist ideas that have been deliberately cultivated to maintain racial hierarchies. To be antiracist means rejecting these perceptions and working to dismantle the policies they support.
第 8 章
The Shades of Prejudice: Colorism and Its Impact
Colorism creates inequities between Light people and Dark people, supported by racist ideas about both groups. Color antiracism promotes equity between these groups through antiracist policies and ideas.
At Florida A&M University, I wore lighter-colored contacts while simultaneously embracing natural Black hairstyles like cornrows-embodying my "dueling consciousness" between assimilationist and antiracist ideas. I wanted to "be Black but not look Black," unconsciously pursuing a "post-racial beauty ideal" that values lightness.
Studies show colorism manifests in multiple ways: Dark students receive lower GPAs, employers prefer Light Black men regardless of qualifications, Dark African Americans face higher hypertension risks, and Dark immigrants have less wealth and income than Light immigrants. Dark sons and Light daughters receive higher-quality parenting than Light sons and Dark daughters. Skin color influences perceptions of attractiveness most often for Black women, with self-esteem rising among Black women as skin tone lightens. Dark African Americans receive harsher prison sentences and more time behind bars.
At FAMU, I observed how my friends valued Light women, calling darker women "Ugly-Black" and "Nappy-headed" while praising straight, long hair as "good hair." After briefly dating a Light-skinned woman whom my friends admired, I rebelled by pledging to date only Dark women-ironically perpetuating colorism by simply inverting the hierarchy. I recognize this hypocrisy, noting how Dark people judge Light people as "not Black enough" while Light people employ their own exclusionary standards.
Colorism traces back to slavery, when slaveholders created hierarchies placing Light enslaved people in houses and Dark people in fields. Samuel Stanhope Smith, Princeton theologian, became "the U.S. father of colorism" claiming enslaved people working near whites developed "regular and agreeable features" while field slaves were "ill shaped."
By the 1970s, Black Power activists inspired a movement embracing natural hair and Dark skin, though colorism persisted. By the 1980s, Light children were adopted first and received lighter sentences, while skin-bleaching products became multi-million dollar industries worldwide.
Antiracism isn't about reversing beauty standards but eliminating any standard based on skin color, hair texture, or facial features shared by groups. True color antiracism means recognizing the equal humanity and beauty of people of all shades.
第 9 章
Intersections of Power: Class, Gender, and Sexuality
Class racism racializes classes, supporting policies of racial capitalism against race-classes, and justifying them through racist ideas. I critique both White Americans who castigate "White trash" and Black elites who degrade poor Blacks as "them niggers." To be antiracist means recognizing that conditions, not people, are pathological.
The "culture of poverty" concept perpetuates class racism. Anthropologist Oscar Lewis argued poor people of color were raised on behaviors preventing escape from poverty, while politicians like Paul Ryan blame inner-city problems on men "not learning the value and culture of work." This contrasts with research showing poor Blacks are actually more optimistic about their prospects than poor Whites.
Capitalism and racism emerged as "conjoined twins" during the "long sixteenth century" when Portugal initiated the transatlantic slave trade. Today, their legacy is evident in stark racial inequities: Black poverty rates triple those of whites, persistent unemployment gaps, and a median white family wealth ten times that of Black families. These inequities stem from both capitalism and racism working together as "racial capitalism," requiring both antiracist and anticapitalist approaches.
Gender racism creates inequities between race-genders, seen in statistics showing Black women with college education earning less than White women with only high school degrees, Black women's higher maternal mortality rates, and higher incarceration rates. Gender racism also impacts White women through constraining stereotypes of "weak White womanhood" and affects men of color through tropes like the "hyperdangerous Black man."
My parents presented mixed messages about gender. My mother demonstrated physical strength and managed family finances as "CFO," while my father showed emotional intelligence and affection. Yet they still maintained some traditional gender roles. My mother rejected wedding vows requiring wives to "obey" husbands, declaring "The only man I obeyed was my father, when I was a child. You are not my father and I'm not a child!" Instead, my father proposed they "submit one to another," integrating Christian concepts with feminist equity.
Black feminists rejected the patriarchal idea that Black women's primary role was submitting to husbands and producing babies for the "Black nation." Through organizations like the National Black Feminist Organization (1973), they fought sexism in Black spaces and racism in women's spaces.
To be truly antiracist requires being feminist, as both reject hierarchies of race-genders. Similarly, queer antiracism means equating all race-sexualities and eliminating inequities between them. One cannot be antiracist while being homophobic or transphobic. Transgender Black women face extreme oppression with an average life expectancy of just thirty-five years.
第 10 章
The Path Forward: From Failure to Success to Survival
Understanding racism requires understanding antiracist failure-why people have failed to create antiracist societies. Popular but ineffective approaches include viewing race as merely a social construct rather than a power construct, believing in a singular march of racial progress, and thinking racism stems from ignorance rather than self-interest.
The "failure doctrine" avoids self-blame, with activists blaming others rather than examining their own methods: blaming closed-mindedness instead of wasting time on closed minds, blaming hate rather than our alienating approaches, blaming stupidity rather than our unclear ideas. Antiracists must constantly self-critique and refine methods until they work.
Success is the "dark road we fear" where antiracist power and policy predominate, where equal opportunities and outcomes exist between equal groups, where people blame policy rather than people for societal problems, and where nearly everyone has more than they have today. In this vision, racist power lives on the margins while antiracist ideas become common sense.
After publishing "Stamped from the Beginning" in 2016, I faced a challenging question from readers: "What are you doing to change policy?" This forced me to confront my own hypocrisy and shift from being a public scholar focused on changing minds to producing public scholarship aimed at changing policies. In 2017, I moved to American University to found the Antiracist Research and Policy Center, bringing together scholars, policy experts, journalists, and advocates to address racial inequities through policy change.
Steps to eliminate racial inequity include: admit inequity comes from bad policy not bad people; identify inequity in all forms; investigate racist policies causing inequity; invent antiracist policy solutions; identify who has power to implement change; educate about racist policies and antiracist alternatives; work with sympathetic policymakers; deploy antiracist power against resistant policymakers; monitor results; adjust failing policies; and prevent new racist policies from being instituted.
As I launched my Antiracism Center, I faced both racist intimidation and personal health issues. By January 2018, a colonoscopy revealed stage 4 colon cancer. In shock, I recalled my response when my mentor asked why my wife got cancer: "Why not her?" Now I thought, "Why not me?" I struggled with the diagnosis, drawing strength from my mother and wife who assured me "We will deal with it."
Throughout treatment, I couldn't separate racism and cancer in my mind. I began seeing parallels between treating cancer and treating racism. What if we approached racism like cancer? Saturate the body politic with antiracist policies to shrink inequities, surgically remove remaining racist policies, ensure clear margins with only healthy cells of equity remaining, and monitor closely for recurrence.
Before treatment, we must believe healing is possible. Racism is not even six hundred years old-a cancer caught early. Though racism spreads rapidly, I maintain hope because "once we lose hope, we are guaranteed to lose." Fighting for an antiracist world gives humanity a chance to survive in communion and freedom.
