Me and White Supremacy: Combat Racism, Change the World, and Become a Good Ancestor

Saad, a Black Muslim woman born in Britain and living in Qatar, repeats throughout the book that the “emotional labor” of antiracism cannot and should not fall on BIPOC. Emotional labor within antiracist education and work refers to the assumption that people with white privilege will be soothed or comforted as “one of the good ones” by BIPOC to uphold their own white fragility. These statements are a call to action for participants to feel their own heartbreak and discomfort when considering how they are complicit in white supremacy and use the shame, guilt, defensiveness, frustration, and anger to impact real change.

Asking people with white privilege to do their own emotional labor for the duration of the challenge is meant to protect them from prioritizing their own self-esteem over the security and self-esteem of BIPOC. This is the first step of doing the work for themselves. If they can sit in their own discomfort and learn from it without leaning on BIPOC family members, friends, acquaintances, coworkers, and peers, they will become a more resilient ally.

Although Saad is a Black woman leading a challenge about antiracism, educating the participant along the way, and providing prompts, she does not prescribe any one action they need to take. This is left to the imagination of the white person, with suggestions to help inspire them. All the emotional learning must be done by the person with white privilege who chose to participate. Saad presents personal experience, research, and scholarly works by other BIPOC thinkers as a springboard for the participant to do the work of de-centering themselves.

Saad reminds the reader that in centering BIPOC as an effort toward liberation, BIPOC will need adequate safety measures, fair pay, and credit for their work. It is significant she chose to no longer offer the challenge as a free digital workbook in order to publish the book through a traditional publisher, requiring those who wish to access it to pay her for her time, energy, and hard work. By taking the step to pay a Black woman for this workbook, the person with white privilege has started take steps towards paying women for their emotional labor involving heavy and difficult subject matter like antiracism. The idea of emotional labor, compensation, giving credit, and centering BIPOC voices reverberate throughout the book as one of myriad steps towards dismantling white supremacy and achieving racial equality.

Saad repeatedly calls on the participant to expect and become comfortable with uncomfortable feelings while journaling and reflecting. The 28-day challenge is not only antiracist education, but a method to sharpen skills, gain strength, and practice flexibility when dealing with inevitable unsettling truths. She reframes emotional or spiritual discomfort as a springboard for change:

The devastation, anger, and confusion you are feeling are part of the work too. Without those feelings, nothing changes, because there is no reason to heal what does not feel broken. I invite you not to run away from the pain but to allow it to break your heart open (199).

The work is not merely to learn colonialist history, memorize facts about white supremacy, or use antiracist terminology, but to also feel heartbroken for BIPOC. If white supremacy numbs people through white privilege, then the sensation of feeling hurt, disturbed, and uncomfortable means they are learning to truly see white supremacy and become motivated to make meaningful change.

The call to sit in one’s own discomfort directly ties to Saad’s objective she sets out in the beginning of the book: to become a good ancestor who makes the world a better place for future generations. For participants to also become good ancestors, they must first learn how to hold the burdens of sadness, grief, anger, frustration, and disappointment that arise when grappling with white supremacy. Without this hurt and recognition, those with white privilege can easily hide behind their own power and domination, making them unwilling, unable, or ineffective in antiracist work. White fragility leaves them vulnerable to white apathy, white violence, or some combination thereof, which would undo the work Saad calls upon the participant to do throughout the 28 days and beyond.

In addition, BIPOC have shouldered these feelings while being marginalized and oppressed for centuries. For participants with white privilege, one of the first things they must do, according to Saad, is begin to shoulder this burden alongside BIPOC, while also centering their voices and experiences. Saad repeatedly brings up this uneasy pain throughout the challenge as a reminder of her objective to become a good ancestor. Taking on this burden now makes the load lighter and less oppressive for those who will inherit the world. Challenging tolerance for discomfort is a step toward a more equitable society, one that does not place a premium on white lives at the expense of BIPOC. 

On Day 22 of the Me and White Supremacy challenge, Saad poses the problem of white feminism as a means of leaving BIWOC out of the conversation and forcing them to neglect the oppression faced specifically as Black women. Yet this idea of white activism overtaking real antiracist work and activism echoes throughout the book. In her discussion of misogynoir (a form of misogyny experienced explicitly by Black women), Saad mentions the idea of intersectionality and the complex co-existence of oppression from multiple identities. Activism centering white experiences and narratives, therefore, leaves out women from other races, classes, abilities, age groups, and beyond. To be an effective ally, the participant must de-center their dominant, white-centered worldview in order to effect real, structural change.

Antiracism work is rooted in activism. Saad’s recommendations for how to take concrete action after the 28-day challenge to dismantle white supremacy is firmly rooted in activist ideas, ranging from donating to BIPOC-centered nonprofits to attending marches, to advocating for inclusivity in one’s own communities. Every activist and activist movement mentioned in the book centers around BIPOC, which is essential for participants who wish to take on the practice of becoming a better ally to BIPOC.

While activism is not the explicit aim of the book—which orients more towards effective and authentic allyship for people with white privilege—it looms especially large when considering how those with white privilege can be better allies. For example, when considering issues of white fragility, tone policing, and white centering, each is meant to force critical reflection on how white narratives have overtaken those of BIPOC for the individual doing the challenge. Given the subject matter of this book, Saad assumes those who buy the book and hold white privilege have at least some interest in, or involvement with, activist circles. The repetition of the need to de-center whiteness aims to, by its very nature, critique white activist (especially white feminist) circles that may not be genuinely inclusive.

By teaching participants with white privilege how to identify white centering, tone policing, white fragility, and other hallmarks of white supremacy as they manifest within themselves and others, Saad frames activism as an act that must de-center dominant white-centric voices, perspectives, and narratives. This ensures that no matter what form(s) of oppression other activists may face, they will be more likely to encounter an ally who sees and recognizes the particular issues they face.