Rising Out of Hatred centers on Derek Black, a former white nationalist who’s considered the “rising star” of the movement before he renounces his ideology. When Derek’s peers at the New College of Florida discover his background after his first semester there, a debate springs up about whether to completely ostracize him to protest his racist opinions and activism, or whether to accept him and remain friends with him in hopes of eventually changing his beliefs. Alienating Derek makes him feel very isolated and does cause him to start doubting his beliefs. But in the end, the reason Derek renounces white nationalism is because a few students are willing to stay friends with him and openly discuss and debate his ideology. Thus, the book suggests that while ostracizing a person can cause them to question their ideas, tolerance and open dialogue are usually more effective at changing a person’s mind and reforming their behavior.
When Derek is outed as a white nationalist, other students’ ostracism provides a starting point for Derek to question his ideas, but it doesn’t fully change his mind. When a peer discovers that Derek is a prominent white nationalist, students spark a debate on an email forum: “Was it better to shame and demonize Derek? Or was it more effective to somehow reach out to him?” Ultimately, most of them choose to ostracize Derek, completely avoiding him on campus. This is effective to a certain degree: when Derek’s Jewish girlfriend, Rose, stops talking to him, he sees the pain and sadness he has caused her because of his views. Thus, ostracism does give Derek a starting point in questioning the morality of his beliefs. Later, students even protest Derek’s views by dropping classes that he’s enrolled in the following semester. While Derek at first dismisses his rejection on campus as “an overreaction from hysterical classmates,” he begins “to consider if there [is] truth to what they sa[y].” In experiencing ostracism, Derek realizes that his views might be harmful. Though Derek feels completely isolated and rejected, this isn’t enough to change his beliefs overnight—in fact, he initially gets defensive and doubles down on his racist beliefs. He does, however, try to find ways to reenter the social life on campus, which is why he opens himself up to conversations about his politics. In this way, the book makes clear that ostracism is only a starting point—it alone won’t be enough to change someone’s mind. It is only a piece of making someone realize that their views are socially unacceptable.
Tolerance, on the other hand, is the key to helping Derek see the people around him as human beings and not as “others.” Before Derek is outed as a white nationalist, he befriends people he would normally consider “enemies” due to their ethnicity—Juan Elias, a mixed-race student from Peru, and Matthew Stevenson, an Orthodox Jewish student. After Derek’s background becomes clear, Matthew still invites Derek to Shabbat dinner alongside Juan and another Jewish student named Moshe. Their goal is for Derek to “to learn what the enemy was actually like,” knowing that “there is no better way to make sure Derek keeps [his] abhorrent views than if [they] all exclude him.” In this sense, Matthew, Juan, and Moshe recognize that building relationships is more effective than exclusion. Even though the friends don’t talk about politics, these relationships prove effective, as Derek changes his views in part because he builds genuine friendships with Matthew, Moshe, and Juan. He begins to “like and accept Jews,” and he no longer understands why white nationalists view them as such a problem. He thinks that “maybe every minority [doesn’t] need to be his ideological enemy.” This shows that friendships—even without the goal of trying to change people’s views—can make someone like Derek reassess their prejudices.
In addition to these friendships, Derek’s political conversations with Matthew’s roommate Allison—and her willingness to engage with his ideas—are what help him see white nationalism as a flawed ideology. At first, Allison ostracizes Derek like most other people on campus do. But when she realizes that Derek is a kind and interesting person despite his white nationalist beliefs, she wonders about befriending him and trying to change his views. She thinks, “Even if I could have some direct, positive impact, I'm not sure it is morally okay to befriend someone like this.” While she weighs the moral implications of fostering a friendship, she also realizes that she can only hope to change Derek by talking with him. Allison decides to openly engage with Derek’s ideology by learning what he thinks—she even listens to his radio show and attends a white supremacist conference with him. In doing so, Allison can fully understand his views and find evidence to counteract them. Ultimately, she succeeds: the research she sends him helps him disavow the white nationalist beliefs that he’s held all his life. Through this process, the book suggests that openly engaging with a person and finding middle ground with them may be the best way to change a person’s beliefs.
However, Rising Out of Hatred does offer an important concession on why engaging might not always be the easiest or best strategy: it acknowledges that one of the reasons Derek and Allison’s relationship is so effective is because Allison is white. Therefore, she isn’t threatened by Derek’s beliefs, and she can approach the conversation as a “confused and curious friend” rather than an “enemy armed for battle.” Thus, there are circumstances where ostracism seems like the only option, especially for people who feel that Derek’s prejudice is directly targeting them. But even Derek himself states, “Through many talks with devoted and diverse people there—people who chose to invite me into their dorms and conversations rather than ostracize me—I began to realize the damage I had done.” Thus, while ostracism can serve a purpose, the best way to change a person’s mind is often through respect, tolerance, and conversation.
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Ostracism vs. Open Dialogue Quotes in Rising Out of Hatred
And then there was Derek, the white nationalist prodigy living anonymously in his dorm room, helping to moderate the world’s largest white pride website and calling in to his own political radio show five mornings each week. On the air, he repeatedly theorized about “the criminal nature of blacks” and the “inferior natural intelligence of blacks and Hispanics.” He said President Obama was “anti-white culture,” “a radical black activist,” and “inherently un-American.” There was nothing micro about Derek’s aggressions. He knew that if his views were discovered at New College, he would be vilified on the forum and ostracized on campus. So he decided that semester to be a white activist on the radio and an anonymous college student in Sarasota.
But what became most evident at New College during those first overnight hours was the beginnings of an ideological rift, a divide that would widen over the next few years on campus. Ultimately, similar debates at campuses all over the country would convulse, splitting America’s liberal Left. What was the appropriate response to the most intolerant kinds of free speech? Exclusion or inclusion? Was it better to shame and demonize Derek? Or was it more effective to somehow reach out to him?
But nonjudgmental inclusion—Matthew believed that tactic had potential, and the more he researched Derek, the more convinced he became. On Stormfront, Matthew learned Derek had been homeschooled by his white nationalist family and therefore spent little time with people of color or Jews. By listening to snippets of Derek’s radio show, Matthew came to understand that Derek was sharp, rational, and good at making arguments with outsiders. He could deflect anonymous callers who belittled him and questioned his ideology. He had spent the last decade practicing—and teaching—the verbal tactics of debate against the enemy. So what information could Matthew provide during the course of one Shabbat dinner that would reorder Derek’s worldview? There was nothing. So instead of trying to build a case, Matthew began working to build a relationship in which Derek might be able to learn what the enemy was actually like. “The goal was really just to make Jews more human for him,” Matthew said.
Because there was nothing else to do that day—and nowhere else to go with classes canceled—Derek wandered by the event on his way to lunch and stopped at the edge of the quad to listen. In front of him he saw a few of his professors, Matthew, Moshe, and at least two hundred other students. For a brief moment, he wondered: If this many smart people were so affronted by his beliefs, could they all be wrong? He listened to a succession of minority speakers tell stories about the ways in which racism affected their feelings of safety and self-worth. All this time, Derek had dismissed his rejection on campus as an overreaction from hysterical classmates, but now he began to consider if there was truth to what they said. The moment felt significant to him, so he took out his phone and snapped a photo of the crowded quad.
Their conversation on the roof had remained mostly civil and productive, largely because Allison also had the advantage of being white. Derek didn’t feel implicitly challenged by her racial identity; Allison didn’t feel personally threatened by his beliefs. Because she wasn’t the one he hoped to oppress or deport, she could also engage with him in discussions that were less emotional than logical. She could present herself not as an enemy armed for battle but as a confused and curious friend who hoped to better understand Derek’s racial conclusions.
James posted an image of a kickboxer pummeling a Nazi, and hours later Allison saw it on the forum and decided to write a public response. She had spent the last year sitting with Derek, Matthew, Moshe, and others at polite dinner parties. And even if the result wasn’t exactly revolutionary, she believed those conversations had opened Derek’s mind and begun to change his thinking. What she worried now was that the forum would undo that goodwill and push Derek back into a corner, where he would again see the campus as his liberal enemy.
By the time he arrived in Bordeaux, France, in the first days of 2013 for his French-immersion class, Derek felt increasingly detached from his white nationalist views. “The ideology is flawed, and I’ve moved away from it,” he told Allison, and when they traded New Year’s resolutions, he told her he wanted to “be more mindful of other people and concerned with what they say.” Then he started his French classes and befriended a handful of other American college students who were studying abroad. Eventually one of those students searched Derek’s name on Google, and soon the group was uninviting him to parties and talking about him loudly in the school. “His name is Black and he doesn’t like black people,” Derek overheard one of them say. He closed the door of his room and vented online to Allison. She asked him: How many more potential friendships was he willing to sacrifice for an ideology he no longer really believed in? How many more opportunities would he allow himself to lose?
“People who disagreed with me were critical in this process,” he wrote. “Especially those who were my friends regardless, but who let me know when we talked about it that they thought my beliefs were wrong and took the time to provide evidence and civil arguments. I didn’t always agree with their ideas, but I listened to them and they listened to me.
“Furthermore, a critical juncture was when I’d realize that a friend was considered an outsider by the philosophy I supported. It’s a huge contradiction to share your summer plans with someone whom you completely respect, only to then realize that your ideology doesn’t consider them a full member of society. I couldn’t resolve that.”
