White America Depresses Me

Disclaimer: This post may contain affiliate links, which means I may receive a commission for purchases made through the links. I only recommend products I have personally used or recently purchased but not yet used.

The reality.

“Dad. I’ve been looking and I don’t think I’ve seen a single Black person this entire trip.”

“I hear you. I’ve seen a couple, but there haven’t been many.”

About an hour after my eldest made this observation, we saw our sixth Black person in Charlevoix, MI. On the drive back to our home in Southeast Michigan, I reflected on the practice I’ve often engaged in my adult life — counting the number of Black people I see in rural or otherwise very white spaces — and realized that I was depressed.

This week’s post isn’t meant to depress you. I do, however, want you to understand, if you don’t already, how certain spaces are understood by people for whom those spaces were not meant to be lived in or visited.

I’ve written and talked a lot about how race and the outdoors intersect. There are dozens of scholars, activists, content creators, and people talking and educating about the same topic. We do this because space is shaped by power rooted in specific narratives and ideologies of the humans creating that space.

When I’m in most rural spaces, affluent spaces, and academic spaces, I sometimes feel an overwhelming sense of the ideologies that shape the culture and practices of those spaces. This feeling is probably familiar to many people in the form of what we call “culture shock”; that feeling of being in a space that functions very differently from what one is used to.

I’ve never gotten used to the way hyperwhite spaces function, and I’m getting tired of that feeling. It’s depressing because the culture of these spaces is hyper-ahistorical, racist, celebratory of ignorance, rife with inequality, and incessantly wasteful and destructive.

There are wonders of technology, luxury, and material possessions to be sure, but when I see the multi-million dollar yacht with the same “blue lives matter” flag that the rusted out HVAC truck driven by a poor white guy who chain smokes and doesn’t have dental care, it’s hard sometimes not to despair.

Camping in Charlevoix, MI, this past weekend was a lot of fun, but it was also depressing and constantly uncomfortable. I saw six Black people among hundreds. This was not a melting pot where all were welcome and present; it was and is a white space constructed by white people for entertaining white people in white ways of being.

The history.

I don’t know the specific history of Charlevoix, MI. Still, the history of so many recreational areas in America is a story about how non-white people were explicitly — and today, implicitly — excluded from occupying.

The formal exclusion of non-white folks from spaces is well-documented. What’s less well understood is the informal policies of white spaces and the violence that everyday citizens were willing to go to keep those spaces “white only”. Sundown Towns are a great example of informal white policies for making sure non-white people never felt like they could be comfortable or welcome in spaces that white folks wanted all to themselves.

This clip from the fantastic show Lovecraft Country expertly captures the tensions and psychological violence that Black people have been under in spaces in the U.S. If you haven’t watched this show, and can handle the horror genre, it’s well worth your time.

One of my favorite parts of the book I recommended after watching the movie Sinners discusses the impact of policy changes in Mississippi on American politics post-Reconstruction. The echoes of the tactics former enslavers looking to regain power amid a wave of Black political participation is so similar to what the current administration is practicing, it’s disturbing.

Essentially, the plantation bloc directly terrorized Black folks (the rise of the KKK), disenfranchised and re-educated white masses, while asking, and in many cases demanding, northern white folks to look the other way. Debt peonage has always been the policy of conquest for the leaders of this nation. However, it is still a bit shocking to witness how deeply invested some humans can be in the structural and generational suffering of others.

The future.

“We just have to endure until the old racists die out.”

This commonly heard bromide, often uttered in response to a racism, is one of the most annoyingly untrue things that’s ever been spoken. It’s so frustrating to hear because you know the people who say it have no understanding of how white supremacy works.

There has never been a time in this country where those perpetuating whiteness were not deeply invested in the indoctrination of the next generation. This work continues to be done so well that idiotic ideas about this nation’s history and the nature of white supremacy are welcomed.

The prospect of breaking a 500-year campaign of deliberate brainwashing is grim. I often despair of the white majority escaping the gravitational pull of whiteness and the seeming benefits it provides its people.

Where I am hopeful is in the area of education. Not necessarily formal education, because that system in this country, like all systems, was built on a foundation of exclusion, exploitation, and preserving white patriarchy. When I say education, I mean effective learning that can take place anywhere under any circumstances.

Just the other day, I met with former students for dinner to catch up on their lives since graduation and to talk about their careers. The conversation touched on the current state of the U.S., and I began to share some historical facts that, I think, provide context to the current moment.

“You see, I never knew that, but that makes so much sense!” one student said after I explained the ways pro football players, despite earning million-dollar salaries, are still heavily exploited.

I get this response all the time in my classrooms, as well as from the content I put out on other platforms. So it’s a wonder to me, especially when I hear other educators prescribe outlasting old racists as the cure for racism. So many of us are wildly ignorant of how things actually work, yet, because of the very real overwhelm many of us feel, we resort to statements, policies, and world views that comfort us more than anything else.

My goal in any interaction where there’s an opportunity to kick white supremacy in the teeth is for those I’m in conversation with to never be able to claim ignorance of knowing one way whiteness is working to maintain oppression. And for those open to interrogating the easy explanations on offer for why some people are suffering, then they will hopefully remember the seed of facts and perspective they encountered in spending time with me.

Young people are much more prone to self-reflect on what they think they know, which is why the United Daughters of the Confederacy spent so much time restructuring the narratives of the South and shaping how we’re socialized to think about and talk about racism and slavery today.

Also, f*ck Joe Rogan for using his platform to convince hundreds of thousands of young people of so many bad ideas.

The Wild Kitchen and Whiteness

Interrogating whiteness is a big reason for the wild kitchen. The construction of a racial identity and power system rooted in the inherent supremacy of a specific group of people is antithetical to recognizing and respecting the autonomy of others.

I’m drawn to the ways that Black and Indigenous peoples think and write about the world because it aligns with my deeply held notion that we all (all beings and spaces) deserve our inherent respect and reverence. That doesn’t mean that we don’t cause harm, something we humans and other heterotrophs (beings that can’t produce their own food in their bodies) physically cannot do and stay alive, but it does mean that we never seek exploitation as a means of accumulating material wealth.

I’m heading back to the northern lower peninsula this weekend for a fishing trip with my dad. I’m sure we’ll talk about the state of the nation and world during. What will ground us despite the awful things happening is the love, gratitude, and joy of being in spaces created, maintained, and bountiful through the lives and intentions of so many relatives.

CONSIDER THIS

My new favorite pen

If you have a nice pen, I want it. I’ve always been this way. Something about writing with a pen with a good hand feel is just so satisfying.

My pen “borrowing” days may be over, now that I’ve found fountain pens by Lamy. What I love about these pens is their ergonomics, their looks, and how many color, pen tip, and ink options you have to choose from.

I also love the fact that these pens have reusable cartridges. My only complaint is that the pens are a little on the lightweight side, but given the price, I think I can overlook such until I’m ready to spring for a fancier version.

If you like to physically write, a practice I am falling in love with again, then Lamy pens are a wonderful way to rekindle that practice.

Thanks for reading!

-Jonathan