Themes
Key
LitCharts assigns a color and icon to each theme in So You Want to Talk About Race, which you can use to track the themes throughout the work.
Racism, Privilege, and White Supremacy
Confronting Racial Pain
Intersectionality, Oppression, and Social Justice
Cultural Appropriation
Summary
Analysis
Oluo’s in a coffee shop talking with a smart, well-meaning friend who thinks that more progress would be made if people talked about “class” instead of race. Oluo is tired of this sort of conversation. Since the 2016 election, liberals and progressives have been scrambling to figure out why so many people feel excluded by the left wing’s message. They typically assume that all the focus on race has left out “working class white men” from the narrative, and that focusing on class will also help disenfranchised minorities. Oluo has heard this argument many times, but she decides to engage with her friend and hopes to show him that class and race aren’t interchangeable.
Oluo emphasizes that having this sort of conversation is both tiring and laborious for her, thus stressing the emotional burden that people of color face when talking about race. She also hints that such conversations also unfairly burden people of color to educate others on racial disparity in the U.S. Oluo uses this example to stress that oppression is multifaceted (or intersectional), meaning that people are oppressed for many reasons, including race and class. Talking about one issue (say, class alone) won’t fix problems with the other.
Themes
Even if the government raises the minimum wage, Oluo argues, her “black-sounding name” still limits her chances of getting a job interview. The lower value of homes in predominantly black neighborhoods affects her access to loans. Her sons are still more likely to go to prison than white men. Teachers are more likely to consider black youths aggressive, affecting their abilities to graduate. Oluo is ranting now, but she’s not angry—she’s hurt. Oluo’s well-meaning friend suggests focusing on America’s class problem first, thinking it’s a good start. Oluo sighs and says that black people have been hearing that suggestion for hundreds of years, and they’re still waiting.
The exchange between Oluo and her friend illustrates how conversations about race typically go wrong. Oluo’s well-meaning friend fails to recognize the burden he places on Oluo to educate him on all the ways that people of color are oppressed because of their race. She stresses this point by discussing specific issues faced by people of color that aren’t related to class, such as her “black-sounding name.” The conversation also burdens her emotionally, which she highlights by emphasizing her emotional agitation. Her friend also fails to see how his dismissal of her lived experience and first-hand knowledge further exacerbates the situation.
Themes
Many people say that race is a social construct, but Oluo thinks this is effectively a lie that justifies crime: people treat certain races as less human in order to legitimize slavery and genocide. Money is also a social construct—people choose to pretend that little pieces of paper are worth centering their lives around. Yet, to Oluo, both are “alive.” She thinks that dealing with class alone will not solve the inequalities of a system based on the idea that one group gets more because another exists to get less. The lure of racism persists in a system where people believe there isn’t enough power or resources to go around.
Oluo believes that racism is a tool used by people in power to help them amass wealth. She notes how those in power have historically dehumanized people of color so they can justify stealing land and labor from them through slavery and genocide. She thinks that the same motivations (to oppress others by race for personal gain) still have force in contemporary U.S. society. Oluo thus argues that talking about class alone won’t address the fundamental role that racism plays in perpetuating economic inequalities in the U.S. She also describes social constructs (like race) as “alive” to emphasize the real human cost—measured in lives and emotional trauma—involved in abusing “social constructs” like race.
Themes
Oluo thinks that the narrative of white supremacy is so entrenched in society that in every demographic, “black and brown people are consistently getting less.” She agrees that the class system violently oppresses and harms people of all races, but she also thinks people of color are also harmed for their race. She says that a disabled white man might end up as poor as an able-bodied woman of color, but the reasons why they’re poor are different. Oluo argues that oppression is about class, but it’s also about race, gender, sexuality, and ability.
Oluo thinks that racism is systemic in the U.S., meaning society is set up to ensure that no matter where a person of color falls in the class hierarchy, they will still be disadvantaged—or “consistently get[] less”—compared to a white person in the same position. Oluo also emphasizes that oppression is intersectional: a lot of people are poor, but they’re poor for different reasons that all need to be addressed to eliminate inequality.
Themes
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It bothers Oluo that in many conversations about social issues, the discussion rarely goes beyond questioning if the issue is really about race. She understands that such conversations are difficult and complex, but if things are going to change, people need to start somewhere. She sets out some basic guidelines to help people: an issue is about race if a person of color deems it so, if it disproportionately affects people of color, or if it follows a wider pattern of events that disproportionately affect people of color. Oluo is going to break each of these down a little more fully.
Oluo sets out guidelines to help well-meaning people have conversations about race, rather than to shut them down. She advises people to recognize and acknowledge (rather than dismiss) the individualized first-hand experiences of people of color in such conversations. She also argues that acknowledging racial pain (even when it’s not clearly understood) is important because such pain often points to deeper systemic patterns of abuse in U.S. society.
Themes
Addressing the first guideline, Oluo says that when a person of color thinks it’s about race, that doesn’t mean a person of color is always right. But it does mean that their lived experience—which is inherently shaped by their racial identity—is valid, even if they’re talking to someone who can’t understand the issue as an outsider. Things aren’t necessarily only about race, but race is always part of the picture. Oluo feels that if she’s followed in a store by a white clerk, the history of black people being mistrusted by white people is brought into her experience—and the white clerk similarly brings that history into her experience.
Oluo thinks it’s important for privileged people to acknowledge the experiences of disenfranchised people, even if they don’t fully understand them. Effectively, it’s important to trust a person of color who says an experience is racially painful or damaging and acknowledge their pain as valid before bringing up other issues. Dismissing those feelings as irrelevant or demanding explanations from them will likely end in conflict.
Themes
Addressing the second guideline, Oluo says that when she blogs about race issues (like incarceration), white people often respond saying that it’s not about race (because white people can be incarcerated too, for example). Others mention successful black people—like Oprah or Beyoncé—to argue that people of color don’t face hardship in the U.S. Oluo thinks that such arguments oversimplify the way race works in American society. All sorts of hardships can affect all sorts of people, so there are multiple causes for hardship, and a wide range of effects. As Oluo puts it, brain cancer and breast cancer are two illnesses that require two different treatments. Similarly, race and poverty are both hardships, but they require two conversations.
Oluo uses the metaphor of cancer to explain that injustice is intersectional (multifaceted). Beyoncé, for example, is oppressed by her race, but she’s also likely privileged in other ways (say, by having supportive parents who helped her manage the early stages of her career). Intersectionalists (like Oluo) argue that the different features of a person’s life and identity add up to determine how many barriers they’ll face in society. Thinking about each form of discrimination (e.g., race, class, gender, sexuality, or ability) as a specific type of cancer suggests that each cancer needs its own treatment, or the sick person will still suffer. Similarly, talking about class discrimination will do some work to eradicate injustice in the U.S., but it won’t be enough to completely heal society, because racially-based oppression will still be there.
Themes
Oluo explains the third guideline with an analogy: if a person is in an abusive relationship, the issue isn’t about a single incident but about repeated incidents. Similarly, people of color living in a white-privileging society face persistent small indignities day after day. Every time there’s a new hurt, it digs at old “scars.” Similarly, if a person is punched in the arm every few minutes, the issue isn’t really about whether the last punch was actually a punch—it’s more about the person being consistently punched. A person who’s already bruised also feels greater pain from a single punch.
Oluo uses the metaphor of injuries to explain why it’s important to acknowledge racial pain—even when an incident doesn’t seem like such a big deal from the outside. When a person is hit in the same place over and over (or repeatedly targeted because of their race), they’ll develop scars (the long-lasting damage or trauma of sustained abuse). If a small punch does trigger a great deal of hurt, it’s usually an indication that there’s a deeper pattern of abuse in play (systemic racism), which should never be ignored.
Themes
To Oluo, the experience of blackness isn’t only about oppression—her blackness also invokes a rich history of beauty, resilience, and creativity that she’s grateful for. Similarly, she thinks oppression isn’t always or only about blackness. Oluo thinks that many people are afraid that if they make something about race, some people will be left out (like poor white men, for instance). Oluo thinks that people shouldn’t isolate race as society’s only problem, but they shouldn’t ignore it either. They need to think about race like one piece of a “machine.” Oluo says that the world often tells people color that they’re wrong about what they’re experiencing and feeling in their own lives. To Oluo, they’re not wrong, and people of color have just as much of a right to be heard. So, if they think that it's about race, they’re right.
Oluo stresses once again that oppression is intersectional: it’s like a machine with many different moving cogs and wheels—such as racism, sexism, homophobia, or ableism. To fully stop the machine, all the parts need to be dismantled. She reminds people of color that their pain is a valid, natural, and justified response to an unnatural and unjust system (which she illustrates through the metaphor of a machine). Oluo concludes that trusting in the lived experiences of people of color isn’t the be-all-end-all of every conversation about oppression—but it will help to get a conversation going rather than shut it down.
Themes
