On White Supremacy

Four advocates comment on the racist structures on which society is built

From left: Mustafa Santiago Ali, Laura Mae Lindo, Kanika Samuels-Wortley, and Scott Fraser.

The tragic, untimely, and absolutely avoidable death of George Floyd has sparked wave after wave of rallies and marches. For many, his death is another in a long line of unarmed Black people dying at the hands of the police. For many more, this terrible incident has become a catalyst for change.

While media coverage is exposing racial injustices, it has also brought increased awareness and scrutiny of systemic oppression in nearly every aspect of our lives— from media to law enforcement, from academia to healthcare. Social media is awash with calls to acknowledge white supremacy as a foundational ideology in our society.

Long derided as a term associated with hate groups from a bygone era, white supremacy is starting to gain traction in our communications, as we are forced to confront atrocities protected by outmoded legal systems.

White supremacy is police profiling and killing Black men with impunity. It is school boards suing parents for highlighting racism in schools. It is communities of colour being exposed to industrial toxins in the neighbourhood. It is the whiteness that is normalized in the leadership at our work, the whiteness revered in academia, and the whiteness accepted and endorsed in our culture. White supremacy is the culture of fear fed at one end of the societal spectrum and the cultivation of privilege and entitlement fostered at the other. It is the difference between a rapist getting three months of jail time for “twenty minutes of action” and an innocent woman murdered due to a no-knock search warrant.

“White supremacy is the culture of fear fed at one end of the societal spectrum and the cultivation of privilege and entitlement fostered at the other.”

The Black Lives Matter movement has sparked a range of actions designed to confront systemic racism. The conversation has stepped past the naïve, after-school-special narratives that made so many people think that as long as they don’t use slurs and aren’t active members of hate groups, they must be doing enough to create a fair and just society. There is greater acknowledgment that racism is written into the DNA of our governments, our media, and our culture.

A system of government built on white supremacy reinforces racial hierarchy on so many levels that it becomes difficult to identify. For too long, people who have not been invested in anti-racism have been able to ignore the vestiges of white supremacy in our policymaking and societal output because of its intrinsic and covert nature. Ignorance is not an excuse and we can no longer expect forgiveness for it. It has taken a heavy toll on our fellow citizens, friends, and neighbours. We have to identify where white supremacy is reinforced and dismantle it, while giving agency to those whom it has been designed to subjugate.

We reached out to leading advocates and policymakers to share their thoughts on how racist systems are perpetuated, and what we should be thinking about when we take steps to dismantle white supremacy.

LAURA MAE LINDO
Member of Ontario Provincial Parliament, Kitchener Centre

As we hear more and more voices calling to defund the police, what other aspects of government need to be radically transformed to bring about a more just society?

I would argue that every other aspect of government needs to be radically transformed because government as an institution was created on the backs of the oppressed. It was created and rooted in oppressive ideas about Black, Brown, and Indigenous folks.

If you look at early cases of legislation, there was a lot of very overt and racist legislation that passed without any kind of problems, partly because that was part of the social contract. I remember how my own academic journey kind of shifted when I was introduced to The Racial Contract by Charles W. Mills.

It was the first time I had somebody explain that the social contract that was always presented in Philosophy classes as a mutual contract—an agreement between equals—did not include discussion on the fact that many people were not considered equal. Mills talked about how underlying that social contract was a racial contract: only certain people were going to be protected, for instance, when police were created or security of state was discussed. Only certain people would have access to education: it was a given that Indigenous people could not be educated so we should not waste resources upon them, but they could do other things, other jobs that white folks that were part of the contract didn’t necessarily want to do.

“Underlying the social contract is a racial contract: only certain people are going to be protected.”

And so, children’s aid, education, employment, healthcare, justice—all of these institutions need to be radically transformed because they were built on an underlying assumption that only certain people were worth accessing those systems.

Although it seems absurd that we continue to skirt around tackling issues of systemic racism, how can we push people to do more in a way that doesn’t scare them off?

It’s not about scaring people or not scaring people off. It is about finding ways for them to feel invested in the solution. And I think that part of where anti-racism work has sometimes become its own worst enemy is when we don’t necessarily speak in ways that make everybody feel invested in that solution. And when I say that, I know that it can come off in different ways. It’s not to make white folks feel comfortable with change. It’s about them understanding that their discomfort is sufficient for them to mobilize their privilege to make sure that this world is a better place.

“How is it radical to make sure that Black kids don’t have teachers or students calling them the N-word
at school?”

And some people would feel their investments lie in this change, these radical ideas, which, to be honest, how is it radical to make sure that Black kids don’t have teachers or students calling them the N-word at school? I don’t know how that is radical but let’s call it radical. Some people will invest in education. Others will invest in social services or in justice. And that’s okay. Not everybody has to understand all of that. But everybody should want to feel that this is making our world a better place.

We have seen that the current Ontario provincial government has been taking the teeth out of the Anti-Racism Directorate. Why is the Anti-Racism Directorate so important and what specifically should it be doing?

In a system that is based on white supremacy, that system of whiteness does not want racialized people to have a voice at the table. They’re mortified by that. And what they want is to make it appear as though racialized folks have a seat at the table. The government makes up departments and talks about their connection to community, but they assume that racialized folks don’t see that where those connections are, there is no power. And I think if we don’t talk about power, then we will never get to a discussion about real radical change. They can have as many committees as they want. They can throw as much money as they want at those committees. But if those people sitting at that table cannot effect change, or not legitimize whatever this party believes is worthwhile to listen to, then it doesn’t matter. And that’s what happened with the Directorate.

Here we are in the midst of an uprising around anti-Black racism. We are literally seeing nonstop protest, marches, solidarity protests all over the place. And the response is, well, we’ll just find that Black Conservative who will repeat the same rhetoric around what our values are and not want to change anything about how the Conservatives see race and get power. And then the Liberals will do the same, and party after party will follow suit. Everybody will just do that, which is not actually addressing the root cause of these issues. That is the actual playing of politics on the back of Black folks. The Anti-Racism Directorate was meant to be a place where everything came together, with research embedded in it where no party could take that position [of saying] “Oh, no, no, no. It’s not based on research,” and every party could agree that this is the right thing to do.

When I go to work, there is all this talk about, “Don’t play politics, racism is a nonpartisan issue.” Except, no nonpartisan work is being done to address the root causes of racism in any of the work that I’m seeing. So, something has to change radically. We need to shake up the way that we do politics. It’s why we talk about reform of the actual political system itself, in order to find ways to ensure that the values that people want, and the values that we hold dear, are actually being implemented no matter who is in power.

The Anti-Racism Directorate was meant to be an entity with policy experts and researchers sitting side by side, with community [representation] embedded in this entity, that would oversee every piece of legislation in all of these sectors [of government] and ensure that they weren’t going to unintentionally harm Black, Brown and Indigenous folks across the province. And should something get missed, because we are still human and we might make a mistake, they would flag it. And that would make it a reputable flagging of racism in our system. Unfortunately, it was not given what it needed to be able to do that work. And you saw from the beginning that certain aspects of it started to be taken away.

Laura Mae Lindo is a respected activist and educator who holds both a Masters and PhD in Education. Laura Mae is the Official Opposition Critic for Anti-Racism and Citizenship and Immigration. Her commitment to building inclusive communities both within and outside of educational environments is grounded in her knowledge of how to put anti-oppression theories into practice.

MUSTAFA SANTIAGO ALI
Vice President of Environmental Justice, Climate, and Community Revitalization, National Wildlife Federation

These days, it can be harder to identify bad policy because it is not as stark as it once was. The laws that propagate structured racism are not as blunt as they were before when slavery was legal, segregation was legal, the Jim Crow laws were in effect. Now, there are softer laws that keep racial hierarchies in place such as the militarization of the police, gerrymandering, and voter suppression. What should be the top priority for policymakers to dismantle white supremacy in the public sphere?

Well, the top priority should be justice and the elimination of racism. And we can do that, no matter what the particular issue is—whether it is in housing, transportation, the environment, civil rights, or in some of the policing issues that we see. The central component of such departments should be structured around justice, including various analyses of where the gaps lie, or which areas are disproportionately impacting communities of colour.

We can address this both from the legislative side and from the resource side so that we can build a strong foundation for the communities who have been the recipients of the negative aspects of these existing laws, laws that have caused all of this pain . . . and sometimes loss of life.

Most voters should be asking how the policies or platforms that folks running for office are promoting will help rectify the injustices of the past. The abolishment of slavery was just the first step because there was still that gap [of racial inequity] in place. If your policy is not focused on helping to build people back up, build communities back up, then it is lacking.

In my engagement with politicians, one of the questions I ask is, “Does it come from what the people are asking for?” And if it’s not, then there is a gap in it. We have to ask how a policy helps move people from the position that they are in currently to the same position as the general society who did not have restrictions placed upon them by previous structural systems and laws. And then that’s the way that you begin to evaluate whether a policy is one that is antiquated or is one that moves you into the twenty-first century.

“If your policy is not focused on helping to build people back up, build communities back up, then
it is lacking.”

How does the loosening of environmental policy reinforce white supremacy and, as stakeholders in the health of our communities, what should we as voters demand from our politicians?

Climate justice and environmental justice came into being because the power structure of white supremacy, those with privilege, did not want to allow people of colour and Indigenous brothers and sisters a seat at the table in addressing the impact and opportunities that those communities were looking for.

You find that the power structure is also focused on disinvestment in communities of colour. That disinvestment has created fertile ground for a number of negative impacts on these communities. Whether it is from a climate justice paradigm or an environmental justice paradigm, you find medically underserved areas; you find places that are sacrificed or are dumping grounds for things that nobody else wants; you find locations where the housing stock is dilapidated or in need of repair.

And all of these other things that come into mix—the transportation routes that are run through communities of colour so they get more pollution, the pipelines and the fossil fuel infrastructures placed within these communities—there is a racial justice component to the decision making. In many instances such decisions are made because there was the assumption that people of colour are lower wealth communities and their land is a better location than a wealthier and whiter area, where people will have access and privilege to stop such initiatives.

“Climate justice came into being because the power structure of white supremacy, those with privilege, did not want to allow people of colour and Indigenous brothers and sisters a seat at the table.”

In many instances, we find communities of colour don’t have that same level of access to politicians and decision makers. So racial justice, climate justice, environmental justice, housing justice, transportation justice, economic justice, all of these are interconnected.

Race is the greatest predictor for placing toxic facilities. And right after that are socio economic standings, which, in many instances are tied to race as well. In the United States, over a hundred thousand people die prematurely each year from air pollution.

Look at the fossil fuel facilities that are located most closely to communities of colour and lower wealth and Indigenous communities and create the chronic long-term medical conditions. We know that having one of these chronic conditions makes you more susceptible to COVID-19, which also makes you more susceptible to, unfortunately, losing your life. So, if we had made sure that these communities weren’t unfairly impacted the way that they have traditionally been, then we could have lowered the lives that have been lost from COVID-19.

“Racial justice, climate justice, environmental justice, housing justice, transportation justice, economic justice—they are all interconnected.”

And for those of us who understand climate science and for those of us that can read (and the hope is everybody), when we look at the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change report and we look at the National Climate Assessment report, reports that are put together by some of the top scientists around the world, we see mentions of infectious diseases and pandemics. And as the planet warms up, we are probably going to be facing more of these issues.

If already we know how many people are already dying, then looking toward future challenges, it makes sense for us to address the laws we have in place, which are supposed to be colourblind, but in fact they are not.

Mustafa Santiago Ali is a thought-leader, strategist, policymaker and activist committed to the fight for environmental justice and economic equity. He previously served for 24 years at high-levels within the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency and has worked with over 500 domestic and international communities to secure environmental, health and economic justice reforms.

KANIKA SAMUELS-WORTLEY
Assistant Professor, Institute of Criminology and Criminal Justice, Carleton University

We hear the term “a few bad apples” often used as an excuse for police misconduct and to overlook racial bias in our criminal justice systems. What are the long-term impacts of police bias on racialized youth when determining whether to issue warnings or arrests?

The problem with the term “a few bad apples” takes away from a thorough examination of the systemic issues that permeate police culture, and instead places the blame on a few individuals. However, for decades, racialized communities, particularly members of Black and Indigenous communities, have expressed concern over their interactions with the police. They are more likely to perceive that these encounters are racially motivated.

While law enforcement agencies will highlight their dedication to fair and unbiased treatment of all citizens, they have not been overly proactive when it comes to demonstrating how they reduce negative police-civilian encounters. In this environment, bad behaviour can thrive.

Research suggests that frontline officers often believe that they are more likely to get attention from their supervisors when they do something wrong as opposed to when they do something right. Thus, to cope with the stresses of this organizational environment, police officers often adopt a “lay low,” and “mind your own business” approach to their work. This orientation produces an element of secrecy within the policing subculture. Indeed, police subcultural research suggests that many police officers strongly abide by a “Code of Silence” which intends that they never inform superiors about the corrupt or unprofessional conduct of their peers. Violating this “no snitching” rule, it is believed, can lead to dire professional consequences.

Adherence to this code of silence may promote comradery and solidarity among police officers, but it has consequences with respect to police legitimacy. While most officers may never engage in unprofessional, unethical or corrupt behaviour, the Code of Silence protects those that do. This increases public perceptions that officers can freely engage in problematic behaviours—including aggressive policing, discriminatory racist behaviours, harassment, and blatant criminality—without fear of investigation or reprimand. Therefore, the behaviour of these “bad apples” may strongly undermine public confidence in entire police organizations. It is the protection of unprofessional or unethical officers that can create public distrust.

“Adherence to a code of silence may promote comradery and solidarity among police officers, but it has consequences with respect to police legitimacy.”

This code of silence undoubtedly impacts those from racialized communities, as the acts of those who do engage in racist behaviours are not properly addressed. I suspect that many officers do not engage and would express dismay over actions or behaviours that are perceived to be racist. However, when it is discovered that certain policies and behaviours have a disproportionate impact on members of Black and Indigenous communities, it is the silence of police organizations that maintains the oppression of these communities.

How do negative perceptions of police affect racialized youth?

Research has found that civilians who are not satisfied and/or harbour unfavourable perceptions of the police are less likely to report criminal activity or cooperate with police investigations Furthermore, research suggests that people who view the police as “illegitimate” are less likely to comply with the law.

Exploring the perceptions of Black and Indigenous youth has been identified as an area of importance as emerging research consistently reveals that they experienced increased surveillance and other forms of systemic bias that may account for Black and Indigenous peoples’ overrepresentation within crime data. Thus, not surprisingly, Indigenous and Black youth often feel that they are targeted by criminal justice officials and subsequently develop feelings of alienation from Canadian society.

Scholars are now beginning to explore the impact of these feelings and experiences with discrimination and alienation. For racialized peoples in particular, this may help explain criminal offending. To illustrate, ongoing stereotypes of criminality and inferiority among Black and Indigenous people permeates within society’s functionality. Therefore, Black and Indigenous peoples are subject to limited economic, educational, and social opportunities.

“Indigenous and Black youth often feel that they are targeted by criminal justice officials and subsequently develop feelings of alienation.”

Researchers theorize that as a result of this systemic oppression, some Black and Indigenous peoples may engage in criminality. Thus, as a public institution, racial bias within policing may also add to feelings of hopelessness and alienation for racialized youth.

Kanika Samuels-Wortley’s areas of interest include race and racism, youth delinquency, policing, corrections, and critical race theory. Her research explores the complex relationship between race and crime and is committed to better understand the overrepresentation of Black and Indigenous youth in the criminal justice system. Samuels-Wortley’s research aims to advance critical race discourse in Canada through empirical mixed-methods approaches.

SCOTT FRASER
President/Publisher, Dundurn Press

Studies have shown that reading literary fiction increases our empathy and tolerance to other people by allowing us to better understand and relate to people with different experiences to our own. It stands to reason then that decentering whiteness in literary fiction can go a long way toward creating a more understanding and tolerant society where whiteness is not the default identity. How can the publishing industry ensure that writers of colour are not only promoted, but allowed to tell their stories in a way that is not beholden to Eurocentric notions?

This question needs some unpacking. I can’t effectively talk about publishing specifically, without talking a bit about whiteness as a pillar of a racist ideology called “white supremacy.” I’ve said elsewhere that if you consider yourself “white” there’s simply no hope for you. I don’t know what to tell you. I’ve never been “white,” it’s not my ambition to be “white” and frankly I don’t see how any relatively honest and informed person can cling to that label while simultaneously claiming to not be racist.

To me, a racist isn’t just someone who says or does nasty things to people who look different from them. A racist is someone who subscribes to the ideology that says humans can or should be categorized according to an arbitrary set of minor physiological differences. Calling yourself white, it seems to me, is inseparable from this ideology. For example, my mother is European, here by way of British imperialism. I don’t run around saying “I’m half white!” How ridiculous would that be? I may be 50% European, but I’m 0% white. I’ve never had the disease of thinking that I’m white. So, I don’t know how people who identify that way can “decentre” themselves short of changing their beliefs and then their behaviour. I don’t even really know what “decentering” means. I’m not being flippant or deliberately obtuse. A quick dictionary check, makes me think that maybe it’s the same thing as what I’m talking about vis a vis white as a valid identity.

“As you go out and learn some basic history, remember to ask, “Who benefitted?” It’s usually some rich, asshole king or capitalist.”

My best advice for European people is to become amateur historians. Actually learn a bit about where you’re from and how you came to be here. Start telling the truth. For example, sometimes I see so-called white people arguing things like, “Well, the Irish were once treated like slaves” or “Well, Africans sold other Africans into slavery.” These people are often quickly shut down, but I think that’s wrong. Instead, I encourage “white” people to take those statements seriously and interrogate the ones that are superficially or partially true.

You should be able to explain to yourselves, your kids, your friends, how the Irish were eventually absorbed into a broader notion of “whiteness.”. You should probably know what “passing” means too, come to think of it. You should be able to explain what had happened in West Africa that led to Africans participating in and profiting from the slave trade. It’s uncomfortable but unless we start understanding what happened and start telling the truth about it, we’re fucked. And as you go out and learn some basic history, remember to ask, “Who benefitted?” It’s usually some rich, asshole king or capitalist. I realize I didn’t say anything about publishing specifically. Whatever is happening in publishing is just a symptom of the disease I described above, so abstract accordingly.

What barriers currently exist that prevent or limit novels by writers of colour from being acquired, published, promoted?

The only barrier is access to control over the means of production. This may come as a surprise, but African people don’t need European people to tell our stories in print or any other format. Right now, the vast majority of books are published by companies that are owned and/or operated by European people of means. There are all kinds of ways in which non-Europeans have been prevented from accumulating the kind of wealth it takes to successfully start, run, and maintain a publishing business.

I’m sick of listening to people pretend that this is a mystery. Take a look at Arsenal Pulp Press. The primary officer of that company is a gay, Asian man. No wonder their list is so open and available to talented LGBTQ+ and BIPOC writers! But of course, they’re quite small in terms of economic resources. Take a look at the board of directors of any of the multinational publishers that dominate the industry. Then take a look at the ranks of their senior executives, and then think about whether answering this question for the I-don’t-know-how-manyth time is a good use of my time.

“We don’t need “white” benefactors, or sensitivity training, or decentering workshops. We need an equitable redistribution of control.”

Here’s a provocative thought . . . since I want to be helpful: Penguin Random House, a company I sincerely admire, is the biggest institution the publishing industry has ever seen. Their Canadian branch just announced a donation of $60,000 to various Black civil society groups selected with the help of Desmond Cole. Hey bravo … Ain’t going to change a god damned thing. They could give a million dollars to Black Lives Matter, or the Black Panthers, or whatever you want, and it won’t address the spirit of your question, which is “why are certain groups underrepresented in publishing?”

I’d rather they scrape the bottom of their couch for another $60,000 and use it as interest free start-up capital for an African publishing entrepreneur in this country. We don’t need “white” benefactors, or sensitivity training, or decentering workshops. We need an equitable redistribution of control over the means of production in the Canadian publishing industry. Call it reparations for the role “white” publishers have played in perpetuating the ideology of white supremacy over the long years.

I won’t go on and on. But here’s the simple fact. There will not be racial, class, gender, sexual harmony in North America without the just and equitable redistribution of the means of production across the whole of society. When we have equal opportunities, when we have equal access, when we have equal control of the key decisions about who to publish, who to promote, and what to do with any surplus, then and only then will we stop having this conversation.

Or, you know, maybe we can have another symposium or diversity panel, or put in an updated HR policy.

Scott Fraser is the President and Publisher of Dundurn Press Ltd. Previously, he spent eight years in the Canadian Armed Forces and earned the Canadian Peacekeeping Service Medal as well as the United Nations Mission in Sudan Service Medal.