My White Fragility and What I’m Going to Do About It
I am white. That is to say, the pale pinkish color of my skin that Crayola used to call “flesh” puts me in the socially constructed category of “whiteness.” But I don’t typically think of myself as having a race. If you ask me to describe myself, there are lots of adjectives that will pop to mind before my skin color. And when I look at myself in the mirror, I don’t think about (or even really see) my race. When I walk into a new setting, I seldom if ever think about the fact that my whiteness has set me up to be the beneficiary of positive assumptions and privileges. As a result...
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