Probably one of the most enlightening and challenging chapters of Ibram X Kendi’s book “How to be an AntiRacist” is the chapter named “White”. It delves into how dismantling racism as a system demands each of us to consider how whiteness operates within all of us. It highlights how becoming hyperfocused on white people misses the mark on dismantling the system. It includes the powerful line:
In the end, anti-White racist ideas, in taking some or all of the focus off racist power, become anti-Black. In the end, hating White people becomes hating Black people.
It kind of turned my brain inside out, but led to a valuable wānanga about what it is to be Māori kiritea (light skinned Māori) and how to wield my own kiritea-tanga (light-skinned-ness) responsibly.
There are some crucial anti-racist learnings that we need to undertake as a people in order to step into tino rangatiratanga with our fullest potential, and not as vessels of white supremacist ideas. Understanding how whiteness operates as a system is crucial to that.
Now before I go further, a few 101s to set the scene:
As most of us should know, racism is not a uniform experience, and because of this, everyone’s anti-racism journey is different. The things I have to learn and un-learn, and the journey I need to take as a CIS gendered, light-skinned Ngāti Porou wāhine mau-moko, is not the same journey as a queer non-binary dark-skinned Māori, which is different again for people of other ethnicities and qualities. With that said, there are some known common-truths in the field of anti-Racism. These are not mere opinions, but established truths that result from years of expertise, research, activism and careful consideration within a community of peers dedicated to anti-racism.
One such truth is that the dominant form of racism that has come to shape the world is white European supremacy. That is the racism which has travelled the furthest, has the greatest influence on power at all levels from international through to local levels. When you speak, dress, pray, and visually present in ways that align with being a white European, you clash less with the dominant system. This means that white people have a lot to unlearn, including subtle and not-so-subtle ideas about their own supremacy. The anti-racism journey is specific for white Europeans who receive the most privilege and comfort in the dominant system, and for whom engaging with racism is entirely optional. Our journeys are different.
Terms like white-passing have more recently been utilised to describe the relative privilege experienced by those within a racialised minority who have light skin. It is utilised to describe an ability to “code-switch” and evade prejudice – an ability which is available to lighter skinned members of BIPOC communities, but unavailable to darker skinned members.
Things get a bit tricky, though, when you are applying a term that derives out of a specific racialised history from one group (Black American slave history) and try to apply it to Māori. It can become too easy to forget the history and deeper meanings behind the term. It can also be a clumsy fit with the cultural context it’s being injected into – and so for Te Ao Māori, rather than invoking a history that is not altogether ours to invoke, we can perhaps rely on terms such as white-presenting, or Māori kiritea (light skinned) which has grown into its own to describe the specific experience of being light-skinned, but having whakapapa Māori.
In both cases, though – there are two truths at play:
- It is true that merely having light skin does not exempt you from the racism directed at your people. It can make racists more relaxed to say offensive things in your presence, and you are also more likely to experience positive racism (racist comments like “you speak so eloquently for a Māori” or being cast as a “pretty” for having light features), or having your cultural reality ignored, both by people outside of your community, and within it. It’s also true that many of the intergenerational health, economic and education outcomes of racism still land on light-skinned mokopuna.
- In saying all of that, it is also true that having light skin means you will be less oppressed in the justice system, will not be followed through stores, will have less barriers to employment, will be treated differently in education settings, and social settings – in short, the world will treat you very differently.
Jesse Williams speaks about how he manages these two truths in the following clip, and I think there are takeaways from what he is saying that is also true for the context of being kiritea:
As he acknowledged, it’s important to approach the issue with a level of sensitivity for kiritea, but in saying that – over the years of observing conversations about colourism in Te Ao Māori, they have arisen because kiritea have not behaved in way that takes their relative whiteness into account. While some might verbally acknowledge their whiteness (and in this context I mean the lightness of their skin rather than a set of behaviours) and the privilege it brings, this is usually forgotten within a few sentences, and they are back to claiming rights and entitlements as if their whiteness is negated by their whakapapa Māori.
So let me say this clearly: Whiteness is not negated by whakapapa Māori – and whakapapa Māori is not negated by whiteness.
Let’s break that down a bit more:
Whakapapa Māori Is Not Negated By Whiteness
Your whakapapa is not reflected by the colour of your skin. My mother may be a light-skinned Māori, a child of two other light-skinned Māori. My father may be dark-skinned, from Papua New Guinea. I may have my father’s skin but that is no reflection of my whakapapa Māori. Whakapapa is its own validation system and it needs no qualifying – if your mother is Māori, you are Māori – end of discussion. Whakapapa is not based upon blood quantum. Within the context of whakapapa, we are more than the sum of our parts, we are more than walking pie-charts, we are whole and complete as Māori, while carrying non-Māori bloodlines.
Whiteness Is Not Negated By Whakapapa Māori
Probably this government more than any other (specifically Peters, Seymour, Chhour, Jones, McKee, and Potaka) has helped us to see how Māori can uphold white supremacy. Yet still, it’s a challenge for the rest of us to see how whiteness might work through us. While it’s true that your whakapapa is sacrosanct and cannot be challenged by the colour of your skin, it’s also true that the world will treat you differently regardless of your whakapapa. When a security person spots you from 50meters away, and decides whether or not to follow you through the store, they won’t know that you have whakapapa Māori. When you drive past a police car and they make a call whether to pull you up, they don’t know your whakapapa. The world around you makes decisions every day that are influenced by the dominant system of racism, and the colour of your skin. Te Ao Māori is also not exempt from anti-Blackness – from those who deny that colourism exists to implicit and explicit suggestions about beauty, strength, or appropriate roles for people according to skin-colour. Whiteness as a system exists, and can operate through you, regardless of your whakapapa.
That is not to say that, as Māori kiritea, your existence makes you a part of the problem – however, if your revulsion to whiteness leads to you denying that it operates through you, then THAT is a problem. If it leads to you pushing yourself and your angst to the foreground, demanding that others overlook your whiteness, and talking over darker skinned people about anti-Blackness – then yes, you are a part of the problem. Ironically, these are all recognisable as the argumentative tools of whiteness – evasion, fragility, denialism, centering oneself, individualising the issue. At that point, your whiteness has shifted from being the colour of your skin to being a set of behaviours informed by whiteness. At that point, it becomes harmful towards darker skinned folks in your own community. At that point, anti-whiteness becomes anti-brownness, towards others.
There is another sad paradox at play here, where Māori kiritea are so hyper-sensitive; so swift, and so intent to distance themselves from their whiteness that it confirms the very issue they are arguing against – that whiteness has anything at all to do with their whakapapa, and identity. Being secure in your whakapapa should not result in feeling the need to defend it – in fact your secure identity should allow you to engage in discussions about whiteness. It should allow you to sit with discomfort, allow others to speak to their experiences of colourism, acknowledge the privilege you receive and cede space and power accordingly, without ever feeling “less Māori”. Honouring yourself as a complete Māori means embracing your entire whakapapa (both Māori and non-Māori). You cannot do this if you are anti-White. Treating your whakapapa pākehā as if it is a threat to your whakapapa Māori disrespects both your whakapapa pākehā AND your whakapapa Māori. At that point, anti-whiteness becomes anti-brownness, towards yourself.
These are the gnarly questions we must contend with as we move closer to self-determination and Tiriti justice. These questions will require courage, discipline, and confidence, balanced with humility. Like all journeys of consequence, it will necessarily include discomfort – but if we truly believe in our rangatiratanga potential, then it should be a journey we are all willing to undertake.
Ms. Ngata
As a woman of African-slave descent in the US, I’m loving your nuanced analysis of White-ness and Brown-ness. I’m learning so much. Thank you.