During the recent sixtieth anniversary of the March on Washington, nine White men, including one of us (Otis), donned black t-shirts with large white bold letters that stated, “White Men for Racial Justice.”
White men [can] change the narrative of White supremacy by refusing to comply with it or acknowledge its power over us.
Fellow marchers were mostly taken aback. Several dozen marchers stopped to inquire about our group, asked for photos with us, and many conversations turned into lengthy discussions. A man who turned out to be the father of Representative Cori Bush—a congresswoman from St. Louis who is a member of “The Squad” and recently introduced reparations legislation—was so energized that he called his daughter and got her on speaker phone in the middle of the march, so we could begin building a connection.
Unfortunately, it is a distressing and disgraceful reality that nine White men wearing pro-justice t-shirts is enough to surprise and inspire. There is something profoundly unjust about a society where a small gesture of goodwill is sufficient to immediately access American governing power. However, it also suggests the potential for White men to change the narrative of White supremacy by refusing to comply with it or acknowledge its power over us.
Over the past few hundred years, significant destruction has occurred after White men met behind closed doors. Our history textbooks, not to mention our contemporary newsfeeds, are filled with examples. Therefore, it’s unsurprising that many people are skeptical, if not outright alarmed, that we have convened groups of White men, in private, as part of our equity practice. Why do we believe that such spaces can help advance equity?
The Value of Affinity Group Organizing
Oppressed populations have long urged privileged people to organize their own. “Sincere whites who really mean to accomplish something,” Malcolm X writes in his autobiography, “have got to work…in their own home communities.”
Within social justice movements, caucusing—by race, gender, and other identity markers—has long been a way to unpack challenging emotions and interactions across differences. For people like us who have had significant material advantages from birth, they offer a container to shed ignorance, clarify some of what we are unsure about, and grapple with complex social dynamics through a structure that doesn’t directly burden marginalized people. “When you come out the other side of this process,” author and therapist Resmaa Menakem has emphasized in his writing about affinity spaces for conventionally privileged people, “you will experience more than just relief….You will also have grown up a notch.”
[We need] to ensure accountability to those who are most impacted by our actions.
Part of what drew each of us to affinity spaces was a desire to “do our own work” in a way that did not ask White women and people of color to explain everything to us. Such spaces aren’t a substitute for mixed spaces; they don’t exist to insulate the privileged—there’s only so much White men, and any other caucus group for that matter, can learn from each other, reading books, or the internet. Still, affinity spaces help equip us to build enduring relationships across differences, which we believe is a crucial catalyst for progress.
Whether the group caucusing is White men or any other privileged group, a crucial dimension is the degree of attunement to the impact of our actions on marginalized populations. For this reason, even some of those who see value in caucuses of White people or men get uneasy when they hear that White men are coming together. Because our lived experience is typically dramatically different than that of marginalized populations—and because many White men have held, and often abused, power for so long—there is skepticism about whether White men can develop that attunement and support each other’s growth toward living lives that center equity.
To ensure accountability to those who are most impacted by our actions, therefore, a group requires skilled, nuanced facilitation. Critically, facilitators of affinity group spaces need to stay grounded in a broad set of life experiences and realities, including in their personal relationships. That said, even close relationships across differences are not a substitute for lived experience. So, facilitators need to be humble that maintaining such grounding is a lifelong journey—that there isn’t an end point, and that our grounding can crack if we don’t practice it regularly.
One way to stay grounded is to be explicit about being accountable to those outside the affinity group. This should be formally embedded in governance structures. Since caucusing is a power-building approach, caucus groups of privileged people must demonstrate they are building power in ways that ultimately increase interconnectedness and the power of marginalized peoples. Caucus groups that don’t prioritize that aim explicitly may consolidate power among themselves more than they democratize it.
Practicing accountability is still, in some ways, more an art than a science. It is further complicated by the fact that reasonable people can disagree about whether an individual or organization is engaging accountably and generating impacts that advance equity.
So, facilitators of affinity spaces benefit from having accountability partners who have the patience and capacity to collaborate with privileged people through complex journeys that are often uneven and full of slow realizations and triggering moments. That complexity also includes recognizing that every human being has wisdom to offer, and this includes White men.
We believe that facilitators are most effective when they offer their participants compassion. The facilitators
The Rise of Support Groups for White Men in the Fight Against Racism
The individuals who have had the most impact on us didn’t criticize us, but instead encouraged us to challenge ourselves. All of these concepts may sound good, but how can we put them into action?
Sign up for our free newsletters
Subscribe to NPQ’s newsletters to have our top stories delivered directly to your inbox.
By signing up, you agree to our privacy policy and terms of use, and to receive messages from NPQ and our partners.
Fortunately, there are several new initiatives that provide spaces for White men who are committed to promoting equity accountably and effectively contributing to social justice. These initiatives are building on long-standing efforts, such as the Oakland Men’s Project, which was co-founded by Paul Kivel in 1979 and has consistently integrated affinity groups into its approach. White Men for Racial Justice (WMRJ), a community of several hundred White men dedicated to creating a fair America, has hired two Black community leaders as “equity advisors.” These advisors have regular check-ins with WMRJ leaders to assess progress and guide the organization’s activities. Additionally, Breaking the Mold (BTM), an equity leadership program for White men, has employed two Black women to fulfill a similar role.
Organizing White Men for Collective Liberation, a national network mobilizing White men to learn and take action against White supremacy and patriarchy, was established in response to a need identified by Showing Up for Racial Justice, a national network organizing White people for racial and economic justice. SHOWING UP FOR RACIAL JUSTICE has been led by queer White women and has found it challenging to attract White male members.
At Solidaire Network, a donor community that supports social justice movements, Chris Westcott, a longtime housing justice and worker rights organizer, is helping to create affinity spaces for the group’s White male members, with support and guidance from the leaders of color at Solidaire.
While these efforts engage different segments of the nation’s White male population in different ways, the core of their work is similar. They bring together White men through virtual and sometimes in-person settings, where they revisit the historical context of White supremacy and how it affects individuals and society. They also reflect and discuss how their identity markers shape their lives, and explore ways White men can operate differently to develop stronger relationships, build new skills, and shift power dynamics.
These practices include addressing topics that many White men find uncomfortable. Since many White men are hesitant to be vulnerable, facilitators model and affirm that practice. Participants are encouraged to admit when they don’t know something, rather than exuding false confidence, and to express their emotions more openly than they might in other settings. Understanding the struggles, efforts, and successes of their peers equips them to become healthier, more resilient, and more effective.
While it is still early days for many of these efforts, there are emerging signs that these groups are making a positive impact. For example, White Men for Racial Justice was formed in response to the relative absence of White men on the streets during the 2020 uprisings, shortly after George Floyd’s murder. WMRJ has grown primarily through word of mouth, emphasizing community building as one of its core tenets. They meet weekly, hold in-person learning retreats at historic sites important to racial justice, such as Alabama and South Dakota, and support local actions, initiatives, and projects. Members have recently testified in support of municipal reparations in Philadelphia and have been supporting networks of Black urban farmers.
Breaking the Mold was also created in response to repeated questions from people of color, largely asking, “Where are all the White men?” The founders responded by developing a six-month, cohort-based program for White men in leadership roles. The program has supported 30 White men from various organizations and backgrounds to date, and feedback from participants’ colleagues indicates significant growth in their ability to build deeper partnerships and more inclusive organizations. BTM’s alumni network meets monthly, offering a lifelong space for participants to support and challenge each other. The program is growing and is currently welcoming nominations and applications for its third cohort in 2024.
Organizing White Men for Collective Liberation, a national network that is also building out local chapters, holds various online conversation series focused on confronting racism and sexism. It also recruits participants for campaigns on key racial and gender justice issues, such as a successful effort to protect abortion rights in Kentucky.
What unites these efforts is a dual commitment to organizing and narrative change.
Solidaire provides programming to encourage its members to tackle complex questions, such as how much money is enough, and what repair might look like if one’s family profited from slavery or other forms of exploitation. Solidaire also offers practical programming on topics like mobilizing family members to support social justice and providing money in ways that share power and authentically empower social justice movements.
While these initiatives support White men from a range of socioeconomic backgrounds, most of the White men who participate are middle-class or wealthy individuals with the time and resources to engage in this kind of volunteer and inner work. This is why there is enthusiasm about Punch Up, a new initiative that is collaborating with Black femme and queer-led movements to engage poor and working-class White men in channeling their anger away from marginalized groups and toward the power brokers responsible for impoverishing all working-class people.
Embracing Change
What unites the efforts of the various groups named above is their dual commitment to organizing and narrative change. They share the perspective that helping White men to reflect and act in their spheres of influence is important, which includes — but is distinct from — the importance of presenting different narratives about White men in the news, movies, politics, and our personal lives. Since White men hold systemic power and are also symbols of power, those who deviate significantly from the script and refuse to defend the status quo can help shift culture and, ultimately, policies.
These are ambitious goals for a movement that is still in its early stages and has limited reach.
However, for White men committed to racial and gender equity, “doing the work” involves deepening relationships across differences and establishing connections with other White men who share the same perspective. Affinity spaces for White men can help initiate change, benefiting White men and the social justice movements they support.
Garrett and Otis are co-conveners of the Perennial Sunflower Project, a field catalyst that is building the movement of White men who are committed to sharing and building power with marginalized people and communities throughout their lives.
