“Thank you, Mr. C. Wright, for taking time out of your schedule for this interview about racism and what it means,” I began.

“It’s my pleasure,” he replied. “Although I know that you and most of your listeners are not going to agree with what I have to say,” he said, with a calm confidence. 

“Well, I’m sure that may be right,” I replied wondering if he was going to be vulgar in his responses. “In fact,” I continued, “I want you to speak your mind and feel free to share any of your insights with my listeners.”

“That’s exactly what I do all the time,” he said, still confident.

“Great. So, let’s begin by—” but before I could finish the statement, 

C. Wright interrupted me.

“Excuse me,” he said. “May I ask you a question before we get started?”

Surprised by the interruption I answered, “Ahh, sure. What’s on your mind?”

“Would it be a distraction if I consulted some of my books as we talk from time to time?” he asked. 

“No, not at all,” I said. However, I was curious about the request and asked, “But why do you feel the need to consult books on this topic?”

“Well, it’s not that I feel I need them,” he said with an exaggerated emphasis on the word need. But it’s just that I follow some old advice that one of my mentors taught us years ago,” he finished. 

“And what advice was that, may I ask?” a little more curious now about the request.

“Never get in a debate, discussion or argument with anyone until you find out what they have read, how much they have read, and how well they have understood what they have read,” he said, with a little twinkle in his eyes. 

I could tell this was an important point for him. But I didn’t want to pursue it too much. And so I simply said, “That sounds like some really good advice if you ask me.”

“Do you know why that’s good advice?” he asked, with a slight smirk showing in his gaze. 

Not sure of the correct answer, I slowly responded, “Ahhh, to show that you know what you’re talking about?”

“Nope,” he quipped. “Because if you don’t,” he continued, “some people can talk to you for hours out of their imagination. And you cannot have intelligent and productive discussions or win arguments against someone’s imagination because they’ll make up shit along the way just to win the argument.”

“Hmmm,” I said, thinking about it. “That’s some damn good advice. Never thought of it like that,” I replied, and meant it.

“I know,” he said, “most people don’t. But that single piece of advice has saved me countless hours of needless arguments with people who don’t read and don’t think.” He paused, then said, “I’m sorry to have interrupted.”

“No,” I said, “it’s perfectly okay and a good segue into my first question.  There’s a lot of talk these days about racism and it seems like it’s everywhere.

What do you think of racism as it relates to our people?”

 

“We can’t handle the truth about it,” he said, without hesitation. “And that’s because we don’t understand it,” he added. 

I wondered why he sounded so sure about this, and so I asked, “What do you mean we don’t understand it? Practically every black person I know understands racism.”

“No, what I think you mean to say is that practically every black person you know and that I know experiences racism, but most of them don’t fully understand it,” he replied with emphasis. 

“How can you say that?” I asked a little defensively.

“Because for one,” he answered, “we’re confused about racism, and two, we think we’re responsible for it. At least in part,” he conceded. 

“Well, we are responsible to a degree, aren’t we? I mean slavery ended over 150 years ago. How can we continue to blame white people for our situation when we are now all equal and have as many opportunities for advancement and education as everyone else?”

“You see, that…that’s the problem right there,” he said, pointing his finger at me. “You, and those like you, who say what you just said tells me you don’t understand racism.” 

As C. Wright said those words, he emphasized them by pointing his finger at me in what seemed an accusatory manner. In fact, I was beginning to feel like he was attacking me for what appeared to be a self-evident fact. We had been set free from enslavement after the Civil War and given full citizenship. Except for 100 years of Jim Crowism, we now had been granted the same rights as every American citizen. 

Additionally, President Johnson had signed the Civil Rights Act in 1964 that prohibited racial discrimination among other things. And he also signed the voting rights act of 1965. We could go anywhere and do anything we so desired in this great country of ours, I thought to myself. Yes, there were incidences of racism that occurred here and there, but they were happening less and less these days. Were they not? There were laws on the books against such acts, and many institutions had diversity training programs now. I didn’t understand how and why Will C. couldn’t understand all of this.

Did I Miss Something?

“What makes you think I don’t understand racism?” I asked, in a demanding tone.

In an abrupt fashion, C. Wright, shuffled through his collection of books located near his feet. He pulled one out that was ripped and tattered from much use. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a pair of black framed glasses and put them on. He flipped through a few pages, and when he found what he was looking for said, “Listen to this.” 

And with a slow and deliberate emphasis on most of the words, he read the following: 

“If you do not understand White Supremacy /Racism—what it is, and how it works— everything else that you understand, will only confuse you.”

When he finished, he looked up at me and said, “Those are the words of Neely Fuller, Jr., a deep thinker who has spent the larger portion of his life studying and exploring the topic of white supremacy. Have you ever read any of his work?” 

“No. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of him before,” I replied truthfully, with a tinge of embarrassment. 

Then he asked, “Do you understand what that means?” referring to what he’d just read. “Of course, I understand what it means,” I retorted. “But I get the feeling you’re going to tell me that I don’t. Is that right?”

“Yep,” he said, without blinking. “That’s exactly right. But I want you to hear me out before you jump to conclusions. Is that fair?” he asked. I nodded my approval.

 “A few minutes ago in response to your question,” he started, “I said that we as a people, black people, don’t understand racism. What I meant by that is that we get it confused with prejudice and discrimination. We think that they all mean the same thing, but they don’t.” 

I interjected, 

 “But is that thinking limited to only black people?”

 

“No, it’s not, and that’s a good point,” he said. “As a matter of fact, most people, regardless of their race, get these words confused and use them interchangeably. And all of that contributes to the confusion that we have about racism.” 

“I don’t get your point,” I said, when he paused for a moment.

“The point,” he continued, “is that those two words, discrimination and prejudice, are not racism. But we often hear people use those terms in place of racism as if racism, prejudice, and discrimination all mean the same thing. They don’t mean the same thing,” he said with an air of authority. 

I tried to follow his logic, but for the life of me I didn’t see where he was going with this stream of thought, or how it was connected to my question, so I commented, “So, as you see it, the words racism, prejudice, and discrimination don’t mean the same thing.”

“Exactly,” he said. “To be prejudice means drawing a conclusion about something without having the necessary information to draw an intelligent conclusion. Discrimination means having the ability to distinguish and choose one thing over another as a preference.”

I was beginning to understand his logic, and asked, “But isn’t there racial prejudice and racial discrimination, C. Wright?” 

“Of course there is,” he replied. “But prejudice and discrimination, in and of themselves, are not racism. “And,” he continued, “as such, they cannot be used when what you mean to say is racism. They’re completely different animals.” 

“I get your point,” I said. Then asked, “But that brings up the question of 

 What then is racism?

 

I don’t think we can continue our conversation without defining that term for your argument to be coherent. Does that make sense to you?” 

“It makes perfect sense,” he replied. “In fact, by asking that question, my respect for you just moved up a few notches,” he said, laughing. 

Curious about what he found so funny, I asked, “Why is that?”  

Still laughing he said, “Because, unlike most people, you have the good sense to ask the question that almost no one ever asks when it comes to this topic, which contributes to confusion and misunderstanding for our people. The fact is most people don’t know how to correctly define racism. Most are too embarrassed to admit that they don’t know what it is. And so, everyone’s pretending that they know what it means when, in fact, they don’t. And that gets them into these conversations that end up in arguments over something neither one of them, if put to the test, can define correctly. I applaud you for asking.”

“It just seemed like the logical sequence of the conversation,” I said. “I mean, given what you’ve said about prejudice and discrimination so far, it’s only logical. So, what does it mean?”

“I’m not trying to put you on the spot,” he said, “but I’d like to demonstrate a point. And before I tell you,” he said, “let me ask, if you would be so kind as to indulge me, for a moment. What do you think it means? 

Caught a little off guard, I felt like

 

C. Wright had backed me into a corner. But…

it was a corner of my own making since I was the one who had invited him to be interviewed. As my mind searched for an answer, Will C., was looking at me like a cat who had cornered a mouse and was ready to pounce and devour his meal. I was going to say something like racism is when one group of people are prejudice against another group. Or when one group discriminates against another group, but he had closed that door with his earlier argument about discrimination and prejudice not being the same as racism. I looked at him with confidence and replied, “Well, I think racism is when one group of people hates another group of people because of their skin color.”

“That was a good try, and it’s close, but it’s not quite right,” he said. “But don’t feel bad. That’s the answer a lot of people give especially if they’ve never really thought about it in thorough terms. Wanna give it another try?” he asked. 

Feeling slightly insulted by the implication that I had not given it much thought, I replied, “Yeah, I’ll try again, but first, I need you to tell me why you think my answer is wrong?” 

“It’s wrong,” C. Wright began, “because the definition of racism has nothing to do with hate. Hate has to do with an intense dislike of something or someone for any number of reasons.” 

 “But don’t you think that there is hatred with racism?”

 I objected.  

“For sure there’s hatred involved with racism,” he replied. “However, hatred may be a result of racism or a by-product of racism but hate, in itself, is not racism. We, you and I, or anybody for that matter, can hate someone or something without being racist. For example, I can hate spinach, mayonnaise, country music, horror movies, or the way someone treats me, but that does not make me a racist. Is this making sense?” he asked, as he finished. 

I had to admit that it did make sense. “Yes, I can see right to your point C. Wright, I conceded, but do you really hate mayonnaise,” I asked with a chuckle. 

“Can’t stand the stuff,” he answered. “What about you?” 

“I love it and could eat it on just about anything,” I said. 

“That’s probably why you’re so damn crazy. Anybody who can eat that stuff, can eat anything,” he said. We both had a hearty laugh about it before returning to the topic. 

“I guess we’re entitled to eat what we want,” I said. 

This banter had eased the mood between us, and now I felt more open to exploring what C. Wright was trying to get at.

“You got any other ideas about the meaning of racism?” he asked. 

“I have to be straight with you C. Wright. Based on your explanations about the words prejudice and discrimination, it’s a little difficult to come up with other reasonable definitions,” I offered. “And on top of that, I’m more curious to hear what you have to say about it. How do you define it?”

“Well,” he said,…