April 2003

Views expressed are those of the authors, not necessarily of the AFSC.

Seeing the Color Line in the Quest for Peace

Louise Dunlap is a Boston area educator, activist, and writer. She thanks friends of color Chuck Turner, Michelle Green, Attieno Davis, Gloria Coney, Ty Depass, and Horace Small, plus many white allies, for ideas in this article.

"Shock and awe" in the deep of night is a very old technique in this country. In 1636, terrified Pequot families awoke with their village in flames near what is now Groton, Connecticut. Puritan fathers boasted they had wiped out 600 evil souls. Three hundred years later in my own lifetime, a boy of fourteen was dragged from his bed, bludgeoned to death, and thrown into a river near Money, Mississippi. Far from unique, Emmett Till's murder was part of a pattern of violence toward dark-skinned people that continues. On another night just five years ago, African American James Byrd was dragged to death and dismemberment by three white men in Jasper, Texas. And violence reverberates in communities of color that face bitter need, asthma epidemics, police brutality. In my community yoga class last week, it was the women of African descent whose sons and grandsons have been deployed in the current war.

Student protest, March 20 © Ellen Shub

It was during the first Gulf War that I realized we have to bring the color line to the center of our work. Remember how controversial it was then to focus on "the war at home?" Remember how Iraqis were called "sand niggers?" To empower my peace work, I began to spend time with Native American and Asian mentors. I attended, organized, and led anti-racism workshops. I shed tears of denial, shame, and frustration. I found allies and deep friendships in communities of color. I worked in organizations led by people of color (or with genuine, hard-won joint leadership) and spoke up for change in organizations that were primarily white, including one that fired me for my efforts. I learned to look at every subject through the lens of race. (Who is at the planning table? Which language do we use in meetings, flyers, signs?) I learned to love others who were doing this work.

Looking now, through the lens of race, at the vibrant coalition of peace groups that has arisen in my community over the past painful months, I see there's a lot of work to do to build bridges. This may be hard to hear, but the white peace movement is "racist." Not so much in the way I first learned to define the word--'personal antagonism toward people of color.' A major learning in anti-racism work has been that white people usually see racism as something personal while people of color see it as systemic--a whole pattern of historical and current injustices that prevent peace. (An "ism," when you think about it, is always systemic.) So I am part of racism, even if I hold no racial hate and deplore the idea of it. I am part of racism simply because I am part of the culture I was raised in. To disentangle, I have to recognize and relinquish the privileges I hold without even being aware of them. To white people, the color line and our own supremacy are mostly invisible.

The urgency of these dreadful times forces us to see and dismantle the color line. In Boston, a respected leader in the African American community is willing to spend time helping "peace" activists build bridges with activists from communities of color. As bridge-building has evolved over the past months, African American leaders have shared their reluctance to work with white peace activists due to dismissive treatment during past efforts, feelings of being co-opted, the invisibility to white people of past peace actions by people of color in the past--for instance NBAWADU (National Black Anti-War and Anti-Draft Union of the Vietnam era, the formative experience for one current activist). With difficulty, we have begun to plan major events jointly across the color line, to pool resources, and to educate each other so that white activists can support communities that bear the shock and awe on the home front. It is a small beginning and fraught with backsliding.

Racial justice is the heart of the peace agenda when white people SEE the color line that separates us from those who have most to gain from peace. Here is the advice I give myself as I struggle to do this work:

FEEL--Open the heart to the pain of Emmett Till's mother, the Pequot families, Japanese internees, Palestinians, James Byrd's family. Don't block this pain out any more than you would the pain of your own parents' displacement or murder.

EXPRESS feelings about racial abuse within our own country, past and present--not just to close friends but to others in the peace movement--white and of-color. Silence not only blocks my own healing, but harms relationships with people of color. Challenge the silence! Speak up about the racism that may be invisible to others. Express the pain. An African American activist spoke encouragement to white peace activists at a meeting recently when she thanked us for simply speaking the word "racism." She had just come from a two-day training with white social workers where the R-word had gone completely unspoken.

THINK SYSTEMICALLY Systemic thinking also applies to war and peace. Are we opposing merely a specific war or the whole, continuing history? Our vicious prison system, the death penalty, "welfare reform," school neglect, and the bloated military budget are extensions of the same white shock and awe on which the country was founded. They are racism and they are militarism. Seeing things this way, for me, means devoting some of my peace-making energy to crises that occur on a daily basis in communities of color. Has a child been killed by the police? Is there a call to shut down the control units in prisons? For me the gathering I attended for Ross Byrd--son of the James Byrd and an eloquent speaker against the death penalty (and the Iraq war)--was the most inspiring peace event of the month.

Chuck Turner © Skip Schiel

BEHAVE ACCORDINGLY When working with individuals or groups of color, am I replicating any part of this history? How could I not be!! I was formed by this history. I have to look carefully for how my actions reflect white supremacy. They still do, and I have been working on this devotedly for 13 years. Am I willing to take leadership from a person of color (or do I sometimes think I know better)? Do I even notice when I am assuming leadership over someone else? Do people of color chair meetings and serve on governance bodies in my organizations? How does my group create space that is truly comfortable for people of color? Am I working to build relationships across the color line with individuals and groups? Am I learning new ways of seeing and doing things? Is it enough if we "open the door to all," inviting people of color to support events or action plans WE have already made? Do I look to peace leaders of color like Chuck Turner and Felix Arroyo in Boston or do I look more to white leaders for inspiration? These are behaviors those of us doing anti-racism work have come to question.

ALLOW PEOPLE OF COLOR THEIR SPACE My African American, Latina, Asian, Middle Eastern, and Native American friends have even more baggage than I do to overcome. History has laid enormous psychic and social burdens on them. If a colleague of color seems irrationally hostile or angry, and it bugs me, that's when I have to reflect on the systemic WHY and what I can learn from this about my own healing. As you become active across the color line, you, too, will see the many ways people express their pain. It is important not to judge or make assumptions. Yes, you too, like me, will make painful mistakes.

HONOR, DON'T BLAME OURSELVES People of color and white people who share this vision are trying to undo something that's been going for more than 500 years, creating deep habits that are hard to change. I honor myself for doing any of what's on this list, and I try to notice, honor, and support others who do this work too. Our true power to act comes surging forth when we have made even a small step forward in seeing the color line.

Previous Article    Next Article