The Times They Are a Changing: Sports, Music, and Social Change

A Great Day in Harlem (Harlem 1958) By Art Kane

One of the most important and powerful impacts of sports is in the universe of social change, particularly as it relates to diversity and civil rights. The fundamental principles that drive progress in these areas are tolerance, acceptance, and cooperation. Sports are a very effective platform through which these principles can be demonstrated. There is no question that sports have played, and will continue to play, a vital role in providing examples of these fundamental building blocks of a civil society.

For example, one of the most significant events in the history of the struggle for civil rights was Jackie Robinson’s breaking of the color barrier in Major League Baseball. During a time when Blacks were considered, to put it mildly, second-class citizens by many and, more bluntly, less than human by others, the sight of Robinson playing alongside white teammates, all on equal footing on the field, was both instructional and inspirational.

Sports are an enterprise where race, creed, and background have, for the most part, little impact on achievement and opportunity, at least on the fields of play. Coaches are interested not in the color of a wide receiver’s skin but in whether that player is able to contribute to the team’s success on the field. Coaches play the best players regardless of color or creed because they want to win above all else. Their jobs and livelihoods depend on it. 

Similarly, for the most part, athletes are unusually tolerant and accepting of other athletes. Like their coaches, athletes want to win, and a player’s color or background means little if he or she can help in achieving that result. 

The sight of athletes working together toward a common goal, sharing in the sweat, pain, and sacrifice, provides a powerful example of the possibilities for tolerance, diversity, and integration. Sports offer a vivid display of how people, regardless of background, can work together to accomplish impressive things. Seeing black athletes perform on equal footing with their white teammates sparked a light that suggested the possibility that the same could be done in many other occupations and situations. A lot of the progress we have made as a society, whether in business or everyday life, has to do with examples of racial tolerance and acceptance demonstrated through sports. When the public sees athletes working together successfully, it provides an example for others to emulate. 

There are plenty of stories of whites refusing to stay at a hotel that would not accept their Black teammates.  Pee Wee Reese went out of his way to put his arm around Robinson in the field to demonstrate solidarity when Robinson was the target of racial slurs. And, of course, Jesse Owens defeating his white opponents in the 1936 Berlin Olympics, a platform Hitler planned on using to demonstrate his despicable notion of white supremacy, resonated throughout the world. In short, sports have played an important role in the world’s ongoing civil rights journey.

This is one of sports’ most powerful and enduring legacies. 

But sport is not the only vehicle to play an important role in this regard. While sports may have a more visible public platform, music has the same potential, power, and history in promoting tolerance, diversity, and integration.

While Jackie Robinson was breaking the color barrier in baseball, there were many bands of all types, styles, and sizes demonstrating the power of inclusion and tolerance. Like the stories of white athletes standing up for their Black teammates, there are similar stories of musicians doing the same for their Black band mates. Like athletes, musicians want to perform their best and don’t particularly care about the color of the saxophonist or drummer as long as he or she can play. 

One only has to take a close look at the iconic Art Kane photograph titled Harlem 1958 (or “A Great Day in Harlem”) to imagine what was transpiring on bandstands in concert halls, clubs, and bars during the civil rights struggle. Kane used a wide-angle lens to capture a telling photo of fifty-eight jazz musicians sitting, standing, and kneeling on the steps of a Harlem brownstone apartment building. Just about all of the jazz “heavyweights” of the era are pictured enjoying what must have been a very lively and entertaining photo session. 

Coleman Hawkins is front and center in the picture. A young Dizzy Gillespie is on the right fringe of the group, laughing. And important jazz musicians of the day, such as Jimmy Rushing, Count Basie, and Thelonious Monk, are pictured as well. While the majority of these jazz greats are black, Gerry Milligan, Max Kaminsky, Gene Krupa, George Wettling, and Bud Freeman, all white, are also pictured. In addition, Maxine Sullivan, Marian McPartland, and Mary Lou Williams represent women jazz musicians. Kane’s photo is a wonderful testament to the fact that music, like sports, was way ahead of the curve in terms of providing examples of blacks, whites, and women working together in the equal-opportunity arena of a bandstand. 

Further, the emergence of “Black music” in our cultural landscape served as a powerful example of Black culture being accepted and valued, at least by the younger generation. Not surprisingly, it often took the older generation longer to catch on to the inevitable reality that integration was on its way. Chuck Berry’s popularity with white audiences and Elvis Presley, a white kid singing “black,” are only two examples.  

And the legacy of both sports and music’s role in prodding social change continues to this day in the form of athletes such as Colin Kaepernick and Lebron James and musicians such as John Legend and any number of modern-day rap artists.  

Clearly, in the area of integration, tolerance, and diversity, sports and music have had a powerful impact. Although they are different arenas, their respective potential to provide examples of people of different colors, genders, and backgrounds working together in harmony is, for all practical purposes, identical. 

And in today’s increasingly culturally toxic and polarized society, perhaps now more than ever, it is a blessing that their power in this regard is enduring. 

The Journey of an Old White Dude in the Age of Black Lives Matter: A Primer

As mentioned in my previous blog, I have written a book titled The Journey of an Old White Dude in the Age of Black Lives Matter: A Primer, which will be published in May of this year. 

That begs the question, “Why did I write this book?” 

I’ve asked myself that question often. I know I am putting myself “out there” for backlash and criticism. Many times throughout the process, I felt tremendous self-doubt. I’d ask myself, “With all my white privilege, who do I think I am trying to reach with this? What do I really know about this stuff?” In the end, I decided that silence wasn’t an option. I had to see if I could make a difference and, hopefully, inspire others to do the same. 

There are many books that cover these topics, most written by people of color. That is as it should be. But there is only so much that Black people can say to white people about these issues. At some point, we must create a little extra space for white people to talk about these issues directly with other white people. 

While I may not be as qualified as others, particularly people of color or professional diversity trainers, to write about race in America, I have meaningful experiences. I enjoyed a long and reasonably successful career as a basketball player, which resulted in All-State and All-American honors and a year as a professional. Basketball culture is Black dominated. Thus, I often found myself in positions of a distinct minority. I had to observe and negotiate the mores, subtleties, and nuances of an unfamiliar culture to succeed as a player and teammate. That was because my Black teammates established the team rules and mores. In all other situations in which I found myself, white men made the rules. 

Later, as a college athletic administrator at both the National Collegiate Athletic Association (NCAA) and the Southeastern Conference (SEC), as a non-profit administrator of Music For Everyone, and in books and numerous writings and essays, my work centered on access to educational opportunity, particularly as it applies to POC. In the case of college athletics, it was the educational and economic exploitation of the Black athlete, and with MFE, unequal access to music education opportunities for underserved, mostly minority populations. 

I also felt compelled to write this because, at my core, I am an educator. I come from a family of educators. My father was a high school teacher, my mother worked in the school system, and my sister is a teacher, as is our son. As an educator with a Ph.D., you work hard at researching, gathering, and analyzing information to better understand and place what we learn into a broader context. The more educated we become about various issues, the easier it is to educate others. You do that because increased knowledge of history, theories, and facts brings increased understanding, empathy, tolerance, and, hopefully, action. It also produces increased familiarity and reduced fear of the unknown. I believe that my life experiences, coupled with my work in reading, researching, and contemplating these issues, will benefit others and move the needle of progress further along.  

My hope is that this book strikes a spark of realization and enlightenment and possibly inspiration for other Old White Dudes. There may also be valuable material and insights for young white dudes, white women, and perhaps even some POC. Hopefully, the discussion that follows will contribute to a wider and more informed community dialogue. 

To start that process, I want to call your attention to a couple of previous blogs that will give you a small taste of what is contained in the book. 

The first is titled “Empathy, Grace, and Forgiveness,” and the second is titled “Preserving “Our” Heritage.”

Additional blogs relating to the book will follow in the weeks and months ahead. 

We are all on a continuum regarding awareness, knowledge of, and commitment to, social justice. For each of us, it is a highly personal journey. My hope is that wherever you are on that continuum, reading this book will help you move along that path to impact, in a positive way, your understanding of and commitment to this cause. At the end of the day, there is no way any of us Old White Dudes will ever fully “get it” regarding what it means to be Black in America. But that does not mean we don’t have a responsibility to make an effort to better understand it. But more important, to do something . . . anything . . . large or small . . . to “make it” right.

Leadership 101: Diversity Includes Disruptors

As a result of my ongoing work as founder and executive director of Music For Everyone, I have been thinking more critically about leadership, particularly as it applies to volunteerism and community service. Specifically, how to inspire others to take those first steps to follow their passions and in the process, change the world. Or, if not the world, maybe their city, neighborhood, or block. Those thought processes have led me to begin to write about leadership, drawing upon not only my MFE experiences but also lessons learned from my parents and family, on basketball teams, and in blues bands. 

One of the most fundamental lessons I am learning is that effective leaders understand the value of putting together a diverse team. And that includes a few disruptors. They understand that diversity equals strength, is a sign of maturity, and presents tremendous opportunity.

Whether as an individual, business, or CBO, it is important to periodically take an unvarnished, honest look in the mirror. Such honest self-reflection can reveal uncomfortable truths about yourself or your organization. We do not do that often enough. It can be quite painful when, after such honest self-examination, you find you might not be living up to the standards and ideals you profess to believe in and act upon. Throughout the process of researching and writing this book, I have experienced those feelings, both personally and through MFE organizationally. 

For example, after the George Floyd murder in 2020, we began a 360-degree review of our policies, procedures, and bylaws seeking to identify criteria and goals for strategically diversifying the organization. There is no question that these measures have made us a much better organization. But the fact is, we should have made these efforts long ago. While we have had POC on our board, we were not directional and strategic regarding our diversity efforts and how that diversity could be leveraged to effectively advance our mission. Why didn’t we? In a word, we (particularly me as executive director) were, quite frankly, lazy. I take full responsibility for that. 

This is what I mean by lazy. Most children and families we serve are of color. While we may not have consciously thought this, I’ve come to realize that, subconsciously, we were using that as an excuse not to feel any sense of urgency to become more diverse organizationally. We used the makeup of our constituency as a “free pass” on having to make a serious, top to bottom commitment to diversity. After much reflection, self-assessment, and critique, we have come to realize that precisely because we serve primarily children and families of color, our organization should reflect that diversity. By not doing so, we were underperforming because we didn’t fully leverage our resources to best serve our main constituents and fundamental mission. This was a painful realization. How could we think we were serving a particular group to the best of the organization’s ability if we did not have organizational representation of that group? How can an overwhelmingly white organization think they are most effectively serving a population consisting largely of POC without a strong presence of POC throughout the organization? While we are proud of the work we have done, I lament the fact that we could have done more and done it more effectively had we been a more aware and diverse organization.

It’s like a tasty Louisiana gumbo. You are not going to create a good, thick, spicy gumbo using only two ingredients. Gumbo requires many spices complimenting each other and coming together to create a great taste. Like gumbo, a diverse population (“spices”) added to the mix makes an organization, business, team, band, or community stronger and more effective. 

That said, it’s not enough to acknowledge the need to become more diverse. That is but the first step. Once acknowledged, the next step is to follow through with intentional and direct actions to achieve diversity. Becoming more diverse as an organization is not simply about adding a few POC to the board. Rather, it is evaluating all aspects of your programs, services, and structures from top to bottom. While the change will not occur overnight, the fact is, it won’t occur unless you, as an individual or as an organization, take directed, strategic actions, big and small, to embrace and leverage diversity and, as a result, become more effective in meeting your mission. 

While we still have much more work to do, the greatest lesson we have learned because of our 360-degree reassessment is that commitment to meaningful; genuine DEI is not about “charity” or burnishing public perception and reputation. It is about business and organizational effectiveness. In other words, it’s not simply about doing the right thing. It’s also about business and doing the smart thing.

As for the disruptors? As a leader, you don’t want all “Yes” men or women. You want some people who will, when necessary, push back and challenge you. Being challenged is of tremendous value to a leader because it forces you to sharpen, rethink, or even change your line of thinking and reasoning. And sometimes, that lone voice of dissent might end up saving your organization from heading down the wrong path. Effective leaders understand that they are not infallible. They understand that they have blind spots. Having people on your team who are not afraid to raise questions is a sign of leadership strength, not weakness. 

Like it or not, our world is becoming more diverse. You can fight that or embrace it. But make no mistake, it’s happening, and as individuals, businesses, or organizations, you will eventually pay the price for ignoring or denying it.

A New Years’ Resolution

I have never been much for New Years’ resolutions. Too much pressure not to break them. And in times like these, who needs that? 

But 2023 will be different because 2020 – 2022 has been so radically different. A worldwide pandemic that required strict isolation. I didn’t see that coming. Then, the racial reckoning in the aftermath of the George Floyd murder. While not all that surprising given our history, it was mind-bending in its naked illustration of how much further we must go to achieve some semblance of social justice for people of color. Throw in the increasingly toxic impact of social media, and you have a world in tremendous flux and upheaval. 

That said, the greatest opportunity for growth and impact occurs when things are in flux. Upheaval challenges you. In a world in flux, you suddenly find yourself outside your comfort zone. On the other hand, a static, status quo world is just that…static and status quo. It’s hard to grow and even more challenging to impact change in a numbingly familiar, unchanging world. Or, in the words of David Byrne of the Talking Heads, in a world where everything is “same as it ever was.” But between 2020 – 2022, our world was turned upside down. We were navigating new territory. 

Yes, change and upheaval can be challenging, but it also provides opportunities to look at the world differently. During Covid isolation, I did an enormous amount of thinking, researching, writing, painting, playing music, and work related to navigating MFE through a world turned upside down. I have learned a lot with many new experiences and material to draw from. At my core, I am an educator and, as such, want to share those lessons, ideas, and realizations. 

So, I’m doing something different this year. I am making a New Years’ resolution. I’m going to blog at least twice per month in 2023. 

Here are some of the activities and experiences I will be drawing upon. 

I have been doing a ton of writing and will have two books published this year. The Journey of an Old White Dude in the Age of Black Lives Matter will be released in May. The book is the story of two journeys. One is my personal journey to understand issues of race, justice, and equity, my role in perpetuating racist practices, and my efforts to learn, grow and become a more effective force against racism. The second is the journey Music For Everyone embarked upon after the Floyd murder to become a more diverse and inclusive organization and, as a result, more effective and impactful as a force for social justice. 

The second book, Lights on Lancaster: How One American City Harnessed the Power of the Arts to Transform Communities, will be released in the Fall. This is a book I edited, which means I have spent an enormous amount of time “herding” thirty-three artists and creatives of all types to provide essays on how they leverage the transformative power of their art form and the creativity it inspires to make an impact in our community. 

Meanwhile, the past three years have been very challenging for MFE. From having to pivot from in-person learning to delivering music education content virtually to adjusting our community-building programming in the age of social distancing. From finding ways to apply music as an individual therapeutic and public health tool amid a public that is still struggling with isolation, depression, and lack of connectedness to figuring out how to engage with our community as it applies to leveraging music as a social justice tool in the aftermath of the Floyd murder. The pandemic placed a myriad of challenges on MFE’s plate. 

In 2018, I began taking painting lessons. I have painted so much that, by November 2022, I was able to stage an art exhibit at a local gallery. Taking on the craft of painting has taught me a lot about the creative process and the discipline and hard work required to produce art on a regular basis.  

Also, shortly before the pandemic, I began recording a 12” vinyl record under my stage name, Willie Marble. This was a bucket list moment for me as I collaborated with my daughter, Wallace, and her band (under the name of The Gritty Pearls for this project). The limited-edition record explores the nexus between Willie’s old-time Delta Blues and the Pearl’s driving rock and roll Philly sound. Copies will be available beginning in early 2023.

These challenges and experiences have also caused me to think more critically about leadership, particularly as it applies to volunteerism and community service. Specifically, how to inspire others to take those first steps to follow their passions and, in the process, change the world. Or, if not the world, maybe their city, neighborhood, or block. To that end, I have been thinking and writing extensively about leadership, drawing on lessons learned from my parents and family, on basketball teams and in Blues bands, and my work in founding, building and running MFE. 

Finally, I will continue to draw on my experiences as an athlete and athletic administrator at the NCAA and Southeastern Conference and as a musician and non-profit entrepreneur at MFE to write about a major focus of much of my work over the years, the role of sports and the arts in our schools, communities, and society. 

If interested in any of this stuff, periodically check out JohnGerdy.com. Many more blogs will come as I plan on resisting the pressure to break another New Years’ resolution.  

Empathy, Grace and Forgiveness

“The old law of an eye for an eye, leaves everyone blind.”

Martin Luther King, Jr.

In today’s super charged, divided political environment, we often demonize those who don’t agree with us. I recently read an article about Thurgood Marshall that forced me to rethink my inclination to occasionally do the same.

Marshall was a civil rights lawyer/icon who argued many of the cases that broke down America’s color line. He won 29 of the 32 cases he argued before the Supreme Court and eventually became the first Black Supreme Court Justice. The article was written by Stephen L. Carter, who served as one of his law clerks and appeared in the NY Times Magazine on July 18, 2021. Carter marveled at how Marshall would often socialize with dyed-in-the-wool segregationists even mentioning that some were good people. These days, we all might ask, how in the world could he do and say that?

Here's how Carter explained it:

“To the Judge, those who disagreed with him on the most important moral issue of the 20th century in America did not thereby lose their humanity. How is that possible? Because he was able to reach across that deep moral divide and find commonalities with those on the other side. Only rarely did he see his opponents as evil; most were simply misguided. People, he knew, can be complicated.” (P. 27)

Michael Dyson writes about the power of empathy and the importance of “walking a mile in the boots of blackness” in his work Tears We Cannot Stop. Here are, in part, the final two paragraphs of his book. “The siege of hate will not end until white folk imagine themselves as black folk -vulnerable despite our virtues. If enough of you, one by one, exercises your civic imagination, and puts yourself in the shoes of your black brothers and sisters, you might develop a democratic impatience for injustice, for the cruel disregard of black life, for the careless indifference to our plight.”

“Empathy can be cultivated. The practice of empathy means taking a moment to imagine how you might behave if you were in our positions. Do not tell us how we should act if we were you; imagine how you would act if you were us. Imagine living in a society where your white skin marks you for distrust, hate and fear. Imagine that for many moments. Only when you see black folk as we are, and imagine yourselves as we have to live our lives, only then will the suffering stop, the hurt cease, the pain go away.” P. 212

On June 17, 2015, Dylann Roof, an avowed white supremacist entered the Emanuel African Episcopal Church in Charleston, South Carolina church during a Bible study. He promptly shot and killed nine church members, including the pastor Clementa Pickney. Roof was found guilty on all 33 counts lodged against him and sentenced to death. For several members of the church congregation, including some whose loved ones were murdered, his bond hearing was the first time any of them would come face to face with Roof. The judge presiding over the hearing invited them to make a statement. In one of the most powerful and profound displays of grace and forgiveness that has ever been performed, several members of congregation offered him forgiveness and mercy. The grace and empathy required to offer such forgiveness is simply mind boggling. Yet, despite another example of such unthinkable cruelty and pure evil, those simple, regular, everyday folks found room to forgive. It’s hard to imagine anything being more difficult. But somehow, some way, they found the strength, love and compassion to do so.

James Baldwin referenced the strength, resilience and grace needed by Black Americans in the face of systemic racism in his work The Fire Next Time. “It demands great force and great cunning continually to assault the mighty and indifferent fortress of white supremacy, as Negroes in this country have done so long. It demands great spiritual resilience not to hate the hater whose foot is on your neck, and an even greater miracle of perception and charity not to teach your child to hate.” (Pgs 99 – 100)

I offer these passages simply as an important lesson learned from my mother and reinforced by others. Regardless of our backgrounds or opinions, it serves us well to recognize everyone’s humanity and, perhaps in doing so, we can find common ground regardless of political ideology. Or at a minimum, make an honest attempt.

It leads to another story that is instructive. Writing in the New York Times, Nickolas Kristoff tells the story of Darryl Davis, a Black musician who has a rather unusual calling. “He hangs out with Ku Klux Klan members and neo-Nazis and chips away at their racism. He has evidence of great success: a collection of KKK robes given him by people whom he persuaded to abandon the Klan…There’s something to be said for the basic Davis inclination toward dialogue even with unreasonable antagonists. If we’re all stuck in the same boat, we should talk to each other. “

Kristoff continues, “At a time when America is so polarized and political space is so toxic, we, of course, have to stand up for what we think is right. But it may also help to sit down with those we believe are wrong. (Sunday Review, June 27, 2021 p. 7)

Speaking of talking to each other, it is fair to say that a lot of whites feel “under attack” when it comes to the discussion of racial justice. While that might be considered as our white fragility creeping to the surface, it is something that can feel real. Many white people are feeling cowed and intimidated into silence. As a result, we don’t feel that we can say, question or challenge anything at all relating to race and social justice.

But we shouldn’t let that paralyze us into complete silence. Retreating into silence when challenged is a product of our white fragility. We can, in fact, ask questions and even challenge certain assumptions, regardless of who expresses them. But here is the key. In doing so, we must be respectful, humble, empathetic and most important, open minded and willing to learn and as a result change our beliefs and behaviors. If we have questions or perhaps a different opinion on an issue, we shouldn’t feel that we cannot express our thoughts or impressions. Being able to ask questions and talk about points of contention in a civilized and respectful manner is critical in engaging in productive dialogue and ultimately, change. But it is only when that dialogue is approached with an open mind, a genuine willingness to learn and a profound sense of humility and respect that true understanding and progress can be achieved. So, yes, you can express your opinions, even when controversial provided you are open to the possibility that you may be challenged and corrected if they are misguided. And when they are misguided, you should recognize that, learn why they are misguided and change your perspective, opinions and behaviors accordingly. So much of the path to reconciliation depends on our ability to understand and empathize with POC and their everyday realities. Issues of race and social justice involve difficult discussions. But the more we can engage in those difficult discussions, the greater our capacity and ability to engage in additional difficult discussions. It’s like a muscle that can be built up with repeated use and exercise. The more we “train” and build up our empathy, grace and forgiveness “muscles”, the better we will become at understanding each other and reconciling our differences.

I’ll leave the final thought on this subject to Darryl Davis. “If I can sit down and talk to K.K.K. members and neo-Nazis and get them to give me their robes and hoods and swastika and all that crazy kind of stuff,” Davis said, “there’s no reason why somebody can’t sit down at a dinner table and talk to their family member.” (New York Times: June 27, 2021 Sunday Review p. 7.)

MFE's Songs for Justice: Observations, Reflections and Lessons Learned: Race as a Social Construct

“Race is the child of racism, not the father.”

Ta-Nehisi Coates

According to Merriam-Webster (Merriam-Webster.com), a “social construct” is “an idea that has been created and accepted by the people in a society.” In other words, they are shared ideas or perceptions that exist only because people in a group or society choose to accept them. Or, to put a finer point on it. Social constructs are created out of thin air. They are made up and promoted to where a segment of society accepts them as having meaning or as truths. For example, the idea that pink is for girls and blue is for boys is an example of a social construct related to gender. There is however, absolutely no data or scientific research behind this notion or belief.

Race is a social construct. It is a system of stratification based on the belief that some racial groups are superior to other racial groups.

Anthropology and human evolutionary biology prove that all humans are of the same type, species, and kind. Research has shown a lack of genetic difference between racial groups. In other words, the difference between whites and Blacks is literally only skin deep. Under the skin, we are no different. We’re essentially genetically identical. Yet, why is the notion of the racial inferiority of POC so prevalent?

Historically, the notion of creating human hierarchies around constructs such as race, ethnicity or groups was not created in America. It can be traced back to Aristotle. Ibrahm X. Kendhi references this in his work Stamped From the Beginning. He writes:

“In studying Aristotle’s philosophy, Puritans learned rationales for human hierarchy, and they began to believe that some groups were superior to other groups. In Aristotle’s case, ancient Greeks were superior to all non-Greeks. But Puritans believed they were superior to Native Americans, the African people, and even Anglicans – that is all non-Puritans. Aristotle, who lived from 384 to 322 BCE, concocted a climate theory to justify Greek superiority, saying that extreme hot or cold climates produced intellectually, physically, and morally inferior people who were ugly and lacked the capacity for freedom and self-government…All of this was in the interest of normalizing Greek slaveholding practices and Greece’s rule over the western Mediterranean…”Humanity is divided into two: the masters and the slaves, or, if one prefers it, the Greeks and the Barbarians, those who have the right to command; and those who are born to obey.” (P. 17).

While the notion or concept of a human hierarchy social construct did not originate in America, it was a notion that prevailed in white society when the first enslaved Africans arrived on our shores in 1619. And that notion was repurposed for the New World by whites, who promoted and perpetuated the narrative about Black “inferiority” to placate their guilt for their unjust and utterly cruel treatment of Black people.

Robin DiAngelo explains it as follows, “Freedom and equality – regardless of religion or class status – were radical new ideas when the United States was formed. At the same time, the US economy was based on the abduction and enslavement of African people, the displacement and genocide of Indigenous people and the annexation of Mexican lands…The tension between the noble ideology of equality and the reality of genocide, enslavement and colonization had to be reconciled….The idea of racial inferiority was created to justify unequal treatment; belief in racial inferiority is not what triggered unequal treatment.” White Fragility P15 – 16.

The most powerful passage I’ve read about race being a social construct belongs to Lillian Smith. Smith was considered by many to be the foremost white liberal writer of the mid-twentieth century. Her book Killers of the Dream, first published in 1978, is one of the most powerful critiques of the pre-1960’s American South. Here’s what she wrote:

“Hypocrisy, greed, self-righteousness, defensiveness twisted in men’s minds. The South grew more sensitive to criticism, more defensive and dishonest in its thinking. For deep down in their hearts, southerners knew they were wrong. They knew it in slavery as they later knew that sharecropping was wrong, and as they know now that segregation is wrong…Our grandparents called themselves Christians and sometimes believed they were. Believing it, they were compelled to believe it was morally right for them to hold slaves. They could not say, ‘We shall keep our slaves because they are profitable, regardless of right and wrong.” P. 61.

And this is where it gets really interesting as she essentially implies that southerners used the excuse that God allowed them to enslave Black people.

She continues, “Our grandfathers’ conscience compelled them to justify slavery and they did; by making the black man ‘different’, setting him outside God’s law, reducing him to less than human…they took God’s place and ‘decided’ which of His creatures have souls and which do not. And once doing it, they continued doing it, and their sons continued doing it, and their grandsons, telling themselves and their children more and more and more lies about white superiority until they no longer knew the truth and were lost in a maze of fantasy and falsehood that had little resemblance to the actual world they lived in.” p. 61.

At risk of over simplifying, as a nation we couldn’t square our supposed fundamental principles of Christianity and America’s promise of all men being created equal when we were enslaving Blacks. The powers that be (a society controlled by whites) had to come up with a theory or “proof” that it was okay to enslave Blacks because they were somehow “inferior”. Whites needed to create a justification for their exploitation; a justification that would excuse their cruelty. Eventually, when enough white folks, including political and business leaders as well as some scientists, developed and promoted this notion of inferiority, it eventually became, at least in the white world, accepted as fact.

“The beneficiaries of slavery, segregation and mass incarceration have produced racist ideas of Black people being best suited for or deserving of the confines of slavery, segregation, or the jail cell”, adds Ibrahm X. Kendi in Stamped from the Beginning: The Definitive History of Racist Ideas in America. “Consumers of these racist ideas have been led to believe there is something wrong with Black people, and not the policies that have enslaved, oppressed, and confined so many Black people.” (p. 10)

In other words, it’s not Black people, who are responsible for the inequalities and the negative life consequences and outcomes that result from those inequalities, but rather it’s the policies that lead to such social, economic and health disparities. And here’s the rub as Kendi sees it. If we in fact believe, as our Constitution suggests, that we are all created equal, then the wide disparity in the conditions can only be the result of systemic discrimination.

Or, in the words of Michael Eric Dyson, “After more than a century of enlightened study, we know that race is not just something that falls from the sky, it is, as anthropologists say, a fabricated idea. But that doesn’t mean that race doesn’t have material consequences and empirical weight. It simply means that if we constructed it, we can get about the business of deconstructing it.” Dyson, Tears we Cannot Stop p. 67.

If we can make up a social construct around the inferiority of Blacks, we can also create, promote and perpetuate an alternative social construct around the notion of justice and equity for all, including Black Americans. That will take a lot of work. The question is whether we are willing to do the work necessary to create and perpetuate that alternative construct.