Shooting the Elephant

by Charles Stephens

Read more from Charles on LifeLube

First, let me clear the air, I really hated the film Crash. I found it disgustingly sentimental. Contrived and absolutely overindulgent in it’s political correctness. It was one of those movies that sought to dispel stereotypes, and yet managed to reinforce the most simplistic notions of race since Driving Miss Daisy. It also reminds me of why I cringe at discussions of race in general. It was ultimately a movie to make politically correct white people, and people of color that are thrilled by any acknowledgement of racism, feel good. Even if it’s still racism, just with lipstick on it.

It’s funny to me how awkward discussions about race can be, even among the enlightened, even in 2008, even among the Gay Men’s Healthitocracy. Like the film Crash, this leads to a superficiality in the conversation, one that limits the possibilities of how we can think about, and interact around our racial differences. In conversations about race, we are far too reliant on creating victims and villains, roles that lack the categorical complexity to address the nuanced roles we play.

White people, especially of the liberal variety, are usually terrified of saying something racially offensive. This makes for superficial conversations at best, or self-righteous posturing at worst. They are afraid of being accused of racism. This unfortunately arrests any capacity to have meaningful dialogue and strips away the honesty.

And then there are approaches to race that I’ve witnessed, especially in progressive movements. There is the “I don’t see race, everyone is human” approach. The problem with this model is that it attempts to ignore the impact race had and continues to have. Just because you put a bag over your head, or cover your faces, or close your eyes, doesn’t mean something ceases to exist. Further, we are all exposed to and socialized around notions of racial difference and racial hierarchy. Saying you don’t see race, also suggests you don’t see racism, your own or someone else’s.

There is, within racial discourse, the chronically appalled model. One keeps score in the discussion or meeting of the various racial offenses. For some white people, this provides them the opportunity to “out anti-racist” each other, creating a hierarchy not of race, but of anti-racism. They each compete to show the others how much they “get it.” And before you know it, after the score has been tallied, the meeting turns into a support group.

There is the “I am too evolved to be a racist,” approach. Humor, or an attempt at it, is the key ingredient of this model. The best example of this model in pop culture is Sarah Silverman. Meaningful dialogue is substituted with provocation, and if you don’t “get it,” then you don’t have a sense of humor. And though humor is useful, and satire can be illuminating, every time one acts out or reinforces racial stereotypes, doesn’t mean they are shattering some taboo, and isn’t always funny.

What I would propose is rather than seeing race as something to transcend, wallow in, or make light of, we should seek to acknowledge racial difference without reinforcing racial hierarchy. At best this is done by recognizing racial difference and rejecting racial mythology. Insisting upon racial complexity rather than falling into notions of what constitutes good or bad versions of racial representation. Institutional discrimination is contrary to democracy and must be banned. Whiteness has to be talked about and called attention to, so it’s not seen as a standard, a universal, where everything else is a deviation. As gay men in particular, we must vigorously seek out ways to grapple with racial difference, be it erotically, politically, or socially. We also might have to invent models from failed past ones in our movement, models that have worked for other movements, and dare to imagine new ones.

Charles Stephens is an Atlanta-based writer and organizer. Check out his blog.