Shortly after NEWSWEEK excerpted the book last November, one of the men I bad profiled called to share the feedback he’d received. People from all over the country had called him, he said-acquaintances whom, in some cases, he had not heard from in years. All understood the concerns and frustrations he had voiced and expressed their appreciation at seeing such sentiments in print. Yet though he had a huge circle of white friends, the callers, without exception, were black. His white friends, he finally concluded, simply didn’t know what to make of his frank talk on race and, hence, greeted his appearance in the magazine with awkward silence.
Since the book’s publication earlier this year, I have watched in fascination as blacks and whites have responded to it in radically different ways. Blacks, by and large, have responded with the written or verbal equivalent of “amen.” Even African-Americans who have criticized the book have not disputed the idea that successful blacks face serious discrimination. Instead they fault would-be “Afro-Saxons” for expecting anything else.
Many white readers suspect the blacks of seeing prejudice where none exists. A talk-radio host in Seattle, for instance, explained that sometimes, on weekends, when he wasn’t dressed like the important person that he was, people treated him with less than appropriate respect. If he didn’t harp on race on such occasions, why should blacks? Other whites accused those blacks in the book of blaming their own shortcomings on racism, or of existing in some wacky unreal universe where, as one reviewer put it, “life is supposed to be perfect.” Many said. in effect, that they were tired of hearing about black problems and that the “whiners” should simply shut up (conveniently ignoring the book’s point that those complaining generally kept their thoughts to themselves).
Indeed, one thing that many whites and blacks agreed on was the virtue of silence at least concerning certain racial complaints. The Atlanta Constitution ran an editorial taking me to task for writing about “black rage,” suggesting that it might be better to focus on people who had “turned to productive activities.” (Never mind that the individuals in the book were, in fact, leading quite productive lives.)
Certainly, the temptation to ignore troubling racial issues can be extremely strong. As Lani Guinier observed last year, after Bill Clinton’s withdrawal of her nomination to be assistant attorney general for civil rights. many people believe “that the remedy for racism is that we just stop talking about race.”
But clearly events won’t allow us to stop talking about race not as long as characters like the Nation of Islam’s Khallid Abdul Muhammad can profit from racial conflict, or, more important, as long as race continues to play such an important role in people’s lives. The question, of course, is whether all the talk matters-whether it can result in anything other than people shouting past each other while shutting out any truth but their own.
Guinier is among those who believe that it can. Her forthcoming book, The Tyranny of the Majority (324 pages. Free Press. $24.95). argues (among other things) the need for a “broad public conversation about issues of racial justice.” But can such a conversation really lead. as she insists, to a better America, given that we seem to work so diligently at misunderstanding (or not listening to) one another?
The answer is, “not necessarily.” And certainly not if we are unwilling to look past our own preconceptions or experiences.
As I traveled about touting my book, I was moved by nationally syndicated talk-radio host Jim Bohannon’s comment that he had found reading it “painful.” Painful because it had transported him away from some comfortable assumptions. I was equally moved by a letter from a 65-year-old white retired schoolteacher who wrote that the book “forced me to think, to question my own attitudes.” And by assertions from several white women, Latino and Asian professionals that the book, though about blacks, shed light on their lives as well.
Such comments are gifts to a writer. For writers must believe in the power of ideas, in the ability of words to take people where they could not otherwise go-even if the ultimate power rests with the reader, who can always decline the journey. Unfortunately, when such journeys cross racial lines, they seem to require uncommon courage, and a willingness to accept a certain amount of discomfort or pain.
