Why Is The Phrase ‘White Women’ Triggering For Many White Women?

While many will say it’s not the phrase itself that’s problematic; it’s the context, is it really? Or is there something particularly triggering about simply naming white women as a particular group of people as we would any other people—single moms, older Americans, finance professionals, wealthy Republicans, Black fathers, Asian teachers, Catholic youth, heterosexual men, Italian immigrants, Asian women or Jewish faith leaders for example?

Inexplicably, the simple phrase “white women” seems to evoke a lot of handwringing and consternation where references to other groups do not.

Case in point…The New York Times bestselling co-author Saira Rao, in the midst of promoting both her book and ground-breaking documentary Deconstructing Karen (with co-creator Regina Jackson), was shocked to find her LinkedIn account deactivated recently. Could the deactivation have been triggered by the title of her recently released book (with co-author Regina Jackson), White Women: Everything You Already Know About Your Own Racism and How To Do Better.

She certainly thinks so.

Following a mini revolt on the platform among Rao’s followers and colleagues, her account was reinstated in short order. While LinkedIn declined to comment on Rao’s specific situation for privacy reasons, a LinkedIn spokesperson provided the following statement.

“Constructive and honest discussions about race are some of the conversations you’ll see, and that we support, on LinkedIn. We do not remove conversations about these topics, provided they follow our Professional Community Policies. We are always working to improve our review process, and when we do make a mistake we work to make it right.” LinkedIn also shared the following link for more information on their commitment to safe conversations.

While Rao and Jackson’s content is admittedly hard for some to digest, there’s an argument to be made that Rao’s example is illustrative of a much broader societal sensitivity around simply naming white women “white women.” But why?

Perhaps few people confront this issue head on as often as co-host of the Dear White Women podcast and co-author of Dear White Women: Let’s Get (Un)comfortable Talking About Racism, Misasha Suzuki Graham. Regularly facing headwinds about using the term “white women,” she and co-host Sara Blanchard are well versed in how these two simple descriptors can evoke so much indignation and outrage.

“Not only does this phrase seem to be triggering, but it's the single most common question we get about our podcast, and indeed our entire platform - why did you call it ‘Dear White Women?’” Graham explains. “And I can't tell you the number of times that we have been called racist for calling white women white - to the point where we began asking ourselves, ‘wait - what ARE we supposed to be calling them?’ These are often the same people who have no issue calling people Black, or Asian, or Latinx - but suddenly think that being called white is problematic.”

Arguably, the primary reason for the discomfort is the fact that many white people (subconsciously or otherwise) consider whiteness as the default and as such tend to bristle when it’s named. The ubiquity of the term “people of color” is a perfect example of this. Truthfully, everyone is a person of color (as white is obviously a color), but because American society considers white the default, “people of color” is used to reference everyone else. Furthermore, when “white” is used as a descriptor of a person or group of people, it focuses attention on a white person’s color and for many, that’s both novel and disconcerting. Given our country’s sordid racial history, many prefer to be “color blind,” not see color, not talk about color and certainly not acknowledge their own color.

Indeed, many white people simply aren’t used to thinking of themselves as having a racial identity. Race discussions are about “other people,” not them, so when their whiteness is labeled, for many, it can feel off putting. Graham—who is Japanese and white—suggests that since white is considered to be the status quo for many, the usage of the label can create a visceral defensiveness. “So when you're calling someone white, it's for a reason that's not perceived by the listener as positive (i.e. some form of racial reckoning that if you've been white in this country you've largely been able to avoid, for the most part),” she explains. “We're okay with talking about race as an identifier—if you're not white.”

Saira Rao and Regina Jackson co-founded Race2Dinner, a two hour dinner experience that invites eight white women to have radically honest conversations about race and oppression. Their Race2Community program includes a nine-week intensive built to guide white women through deep introspection surrounding their own internalized white supremacy. Highlighting and challenging discomfort around naming whiteness is a fundamental building block of their work.

Race2Community facilitator and resident white woman Lisa Bond insists that many white women resist the term because they feel it strips their individuality. “We white women have never had to racialize ourselves, and we've never been included in racialized divisions; we've always just been women, the default,” she explains. “When Regina and Saira (or any other antiracist activist or educator) talk about 'white women' we get lumped into a bucket with every other white woman in existence, and all of a sudden, it doesn't matter if we voted Blue or we do this work. It doesn't matter if we believe the 'right' things or say the 'right' things or even DO the ‘right’ things. Our individuality is no longer our defining characteristic. Which is funny, because what we've relied on our whole lives to give us an edge (our whiteness) is, all of a sudden, the thing that undoes us.”

Addressing the tired retort that phrases like “white women” are inappropriate because they perpetuate stereotyping, Graham insists that her commentary is based on information gathered through personal experience over many years, and she also points out that “white women” does not necessarily imply “all white women” in every situation or usage. Certainly context matters. “I think the ‘all’ is implied by a lot of people when we talk about race, and in particular by white people, who have not had to address being white as a race because it's been the default for so, so long,” she explains. “It's often the addition of the ‘all’ (actually or interpreted) that I think takes the discussion into stereotypes, especially when it's in reference to a perceived negative trait.”

Beyond the sensitivity around the word “white,” there’s arguably an increased sensitivity around the term “white women,” one no doubt grounded in the centuries-long deification and reverence of white women in American society. After the passage of the reconstruction amendments that granted formerly enslaved African-Americans citizenship among other rights, a new era of terror lynchings and racial violence began. A common trigger for said assaults was suspected “impropriety” or even “inappropriate” language or behavior in the vicinity of a white woman. Perhaps Emmitt Till, the 14 year old child brutally beaten and murdered on the mere allegation of harassing a white woman is the most notable tragic example of the danger that the mere presence of white women historically created for many Black males in particular.

“White women’s tears throughout history have been responsible for the destruction of many Black communities across the U.S., and the lynchings of countless Black men,” recounts Race2Dinner co-founder Regina Jackson. With that cultural and historical context, Race2Dinner employs only one rule for their events. If a white woman cries, she must leave the room to enable the group to preserve focus on the critically important antiracism discussion.

While some might argue that challenging and minimizing this type of deeply ingrained, primordial bias is futile, feedback from their Race2Community members offers glimmers of hope.

In fact, Race2Community member Susie Berg, a white, Ashkenazi Jewish writer and equity and justice consultant in Toronto, ON embraces the term 'white women.' “I'm a white woman, and I don't feel angry when I get called that or when I see the words. Truth tends not to anger me. Alternative truth and alternative facts, those infuriate me,” she insists. “I have heard other white women say they don't like being called that, though they don't seem to have any issue using the terms 'Black woman,' or 'Chinese woman.'”

Another Race2Community member Shannon Lazar, a white woman who works as a Director of Learning, Development, and Inclusion agrees that while using the term “white” can certainly have a polarizing effect and generate discomfort, it’s not a term that triggers her at this point in her life. “What I have learned is that using ‘white’ to describe white people is just an accurate description of people of my race,” she explains. “I have referred to Black people as Black people my whole life, so now I refer to white people as white people. I would like to see white used whenever we are talking about someone white. When I use white to describe people of my race, I can see how surrounded by whiteness I am. My white friend. My white co-worker. My white boss. The book I read by that white author. The show I watch with all the white people in it. It creates an awareness that I know not every white person is ready to see.”

As workplaces, companies and broader society continue to struggle with the quicksand of antiracism work, it’s perhaps instructive to go back to basics and consider the terminology that we use or don’t use and consider why that is. Graham asks the central question, “How can we have conversations about racial identity in this country—and I mean real conversations about it—if we can't acknowledge that we each have a racial identity? I know we'd love to be in a post racial society—believe me, that sounds fantastic—but ignoring it without addressing it is never going to work.”

Note: Race is a social construct, and the concepts of “white” and “Black” were created to support a society defined by racial hierarchy. As Ta-Nehisi Coates says in Between the World and Me “race is the child of racism, not the father.”