Critical Race Theory has been around since the 1970s in higher education. While its fundamental tenets may help teachers with their understanding of the subtleties of racism in America, it is not taught as a discipline in elementary schools and high schools. Nevertheless, across the country, in order to leverage the White vote, it has been depicted, by politicians, as being taught at the elementary level.
Republican Glenn Youngkin, in the Virginia governor’s race, was substantially behind in the polls until he started talking about banning critical race theory in schools. Independents, in particular, started to swing in his direction. The affect of his message was not hindered by the fact that critical race theory was not taught in Virginia schools and that most parents did not know what the theory was. For a backlash, it was enough for White parents to know that it was about race. Youngkin’s message hooked into White parents’ fears that the issue of race would be treated in a way that did not conform to their (unacknowledged) White-centric view of America.
White parents expressed fear that their children would be made to feel bad about themselves if race and racism is made a subject of discussion in schools. So, what is the source of their fear? Is it White guilt? Is it the preservation of Whiteness? After all, race is a social construct of White supremacy. Historically, people of European descent divided up the one human race into different races with the “White” race at the top. Having distinguished ourselves from others—we who are White—do we feel that we need to protect our view of Whiteness—and our children’s view? How much do we, who are White, continue to be invested in our Whiteness as something distinct from the rest of the one human race? How much do we make Whiteness the norm by which others are measured? Isn’t it time to let go of our Whiteness, let go of distinguishing ourselves from others, raising ourselves up over others? (Of course, we cannot begin to let go without acknowledging that that is what we are doing.)
There is this further historical reality: Having distinguished ourselves from others, told ourselves that we were superior, we then acted badly, very badly, brutally badly. That has been the history of racism—a history of enslavement and genocide and its continued legacy. If being White (as distinctively different from others) continues to be important to us, then it is also critically important that we face what we as a White race have done.
There is help for this: It is called “confession of sin.” In the church that I served as pastor, as with many churches, we began our worship service with confession of sin. Sometimes a member would lead us in a prayer of confession, naming some of the sins we were prone to. Sometimes we used a general confession from our tradition:
We confess that we are in bondage to sin and cannot free ourselves. We have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed, by what we have done and by what we have left undone. We have not loved you with our whole heart: we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves. For the sake of your Son, Jesus Christ, have mercy on us.
Confession of sin means acknowledging our broken condition, our self-absorption, our mistreatment of others. With confession comes the experience of forgiveness and God’s mercy. When the confession of sin is a weekly exercise for a community of faith and a daily exercise for individuals, it takes away the avoidance of the darkness in our lives. Without confession, we must find another way to “not feel bad” and keep our children from not feeling bad about themselves. We have to stay in denial. There is no healing and freedom in denial.
There is healing and freedom in entering the darkness, including the darkness of history and the darkness of our own racism. There is healing and freedom in confessing our racism and repenting—turning from a false humanity to what is true. As Jesus said, “The truth will set you free!”