A Place to Learn About Privilege
Kelly Evans had braced herself for questions when she set up her “white accountability group” table at a staff orientation last fall at the University of North Texas.
In the aftermath of unjustified police shootings of Black people, of national racial unrest and months of uncomfortable conversations in mixed-race groups, she thought of the group she had co-founded as a place for white people like herself to become better allies. But as colleagues walked by, perusing the tables of employee groups they could join, she could practically see the thought bubbles floating above their heads. “You do what now?” one Black woman asked her.
Evans, a production associate for the UNT Libraries, has since polished her elevator pitch. The voluntary employee group, which has the support of the university’s office of diversity, is “a place for people of privilege, primarily white people, to learn about their privilege and elbow and agitate to make things better for folks, particularly at UNT, who don’t have that privilege.”
UNT is one of several campuses nationwide, including Loyola University Maryland and the University of California at San Diego, where white accountability groups have served as safe spaces of sorts for people to broach issues that sometimes trip them up in mixed-race groups.
While some might question how much even well-intentioned white people speaking among themselves can address racial inequity, the idea is that the groups are a first step — a place to commit to concrete action to fight racism.
Kathy Obear, a Denver-based inclusion consultant and trainer, has been leading discussions of race for years. She’s found that when white people talk about race in mixed-race groups, “their silence is so painful and damaging.”
White people will often say, “‘I don’t want to be called racist. I don’t want to be misunderstood,’” Obear says. It’s what the author Robin DiAngelo described in her 2018 book White Fragility: Why It’s So Hard for White People to Talk About Racism.
Expected Resistance
Some conservatives have dismissed white accountability groups as vehicles for white people to be blamed and shamed for racist beliefs they may not actually hold. When the University of South Carolina at Columbia’s College of Social Work sent out an email about an April meeting of such a group, the student organization Turning Point USA took notice. (The university later said the meeting was part of a student project, not an officially sanctioned event.) The president of the campus’s Turning Point chapter, who was identified only as “Dylan B.,” released a statement saying that by singling out white people and holding them “accountable” for discrimination, the event “promotes legitimately racist ideas.”
Obear says colleges should be ready for such resistance. She provided tips on setting up white accountability groups during a pre-conference session last month at the National Conference on Race and Ethnicity in Higher Education, in Portland, Ore.
“Think about what’s going to happen when a couple of alums say they’re going to withdraw funds because this is happening,” she said in an interview. “The backlash can be real.”
Joanne Woodard, vice president for inclusion, diversity, equity, and access at the University of North Texas, says she heard from state legislators after constituents reported news of a white accountability group there. In Texas, where discussions about race are often conflated with critical race theory, naming a group “white accountability,” with the connotations of guilt, was bound to create pushback. But Woodard, who is Black, says that after she explained the purpose of the voluntary group, the lawmakers dropped the matter.
“These are voluntary groups forming because of their desire to better understand and be part of the solution, to make the campus truly inclusive, welcoming, and caring,” Woodard says. “If people are in an environment that feels safe, they’re more willing to engage and turn the lens inward to look at themselves. They can examine their own biases and their interactions with others, and ask, ‘Am I part of the problem?’”
Uncomfortable Conversations
Megan Cunningham, a staff member at the university’s Frisco campus who helps guide students and employers through the internship process, founded the North Texas group with Evans. “We needed a place where it isn’t the role of the oppressed to teach the oppressor,” she says.
Deciding what to call the group was the biggest challenge. “What do you name it so it doesn’t sound like a tool for white supremacy but doesn’t sound accusatory?” she says. Although a name like “white allyship” might be less likely than “white accountability” to trigger associations with blame, Cunningham says accountability “implies more ownership and action than ‘allyship.’”
“It wasn’t about holding white people accountable for past wrongdoings, but about holding white people accountable for creating a more inclusive and equitable environment,” she says.
The accountability group aims to give people the confidence to call others out for their racist beliefs, and also to call them in — an expression used to describe gently letting someone know how comments that seem innocuous might unintentionally offend someone.
White accountability groups are generally open to everyone, and members of minority groups occasionally drop in, Obear and other advocates of the organizations say. The goal, though, is to allow people to start broaching sensitive topics in settings where they feel more confident.
Beverly Daniel Tatum, a clinical psychologist and president emerita of Spelman College, has written about how it’s important for students to risk some discomfort by interacting across racial and ethnic lines. Tatum, who is Black, also sees a benefit to having those conversations in same-race groups.
“Anytime you are trying to change your behavior,” she wrote in an email, “it helps to have a community of support that can help you remain accountable to yourself (and your goals).” —Katherine Mangan
