I should have anticipated it. After I penned an article about our multiracial family formed through adoption and the racism we face, a friend reached out with, “You know, I had a Black boyfriend in college.” (Here we go again, I thought.) She proceeded to lecture me on my focus on race, claiming it might give my Black children a complex. She believed that her past relationship somehow granted her a pass to speak freely about racism.
Conversations with white individuals about race often follow a predictable pattern. They tend to introduce terms that minimize their own discomfort, such as “the race card,” “black-on-black crime,” “reverse racism,” and “colorblindness.” These phrases are often used by some white people to feel justified in their perspectives.
Having a Black partner, friend, or child does not exempt someone from being racist. You can forge deep connections with Black individuals and still hold beliefs or engage in actions that are racist.
As a mother to four Black children adopted at birth, my husband and I, both white, continue to navigate our own biases. The moment my children joined our family didn’t magically erase my white privilege or make me a flawless anti-racism advocate. Motherhood has been a learning journey, and I reflect on past errors that affect the wonderful children I have the privilege to raise.
Despite my involvement in a Black church, having close relationships with Black friends and family, and my commitment to fighting racial injustices, I can still perpetuate racist behavior. Many mistakenly think that racism is limited to obvious acts, such as joining hate groups or using derogatory slurs. However, racism manifests in numerous subtle ways.
For instance, microaggressions are everyday instances of racism, like a white person reaching out to touch a Black child’s hairstyle out of “curiosity.” Or an educator implying that an Asian student should excel in math due to stereotypes. We’ve faced countless moments where strangers have asked my children if they enjoy basketball or hip-hop dancing instead of simply asking what sports they like. These microaggressions carry an underlying current of racism.
Racist dress code policies can also target Black students, including restrictions on traditional protective hairstyles. Black children frequently face harsher punishments than their white counterparts. My son, like many Black boys, is often stereotyped as suspicious or unruly, while my daughters are labeled as sassy or lazy. Such stereotypes are damaging to everyone, especially those who bear the brunt of them.
The real issue arises when white individuals are confronted about their racist behaviors. They often face a crucial choice: to listen, learn, and evolve, or to retreat into their own defensiveness and entitlement. There’s no middle ground; it’s as clear as black and white.
When a white person responds to being called out by referencing their connections with Black individuals—followed by a conditional statement like “if” or “but”—it doesn’t negate the racism. The underlying issues remain. Claims of being “colorblind” or “having no racist bones” don’t absolve anyone from addressing racism.
We all make mistakes. I certainly have, and I will continue to do so. When someone who shares my children’s heritage points out a racist remark or action, it doesn’t warrant a defensive response about my children. Instead, I must listen, reflect, and learn. Any other reaction is counterproductive and insensitive.
If you have a Black partner, children, or friends, that’s great. However, these relationships don’t provide immunity from racism. If we, as white individuals, don’t actively listen and learn from these interactions, we risk causing more harm than good. Reacting defensively when called out only reinforces the notion that white people must always be at the center of every discussion about race.
We must strive to improve. This begins with refraining from invoking our relationships with people of color to deflect accountability for racist behavior. For further insights on this topic, consider reading this related post from our blog.
In summary, while having Black friends, partners, or children does not exempt one from racism, it is essential to engage in self-reflection and continuous learning. Acknowledging our biases and actively working to address them is crucial for genuine progress.