To 5some White people, the very image of successful Black people is threatening. Confronted with their blossoming human potential, the stereotypes that characterize Black people as lazy, violent, ignorant, and uncivilized are stripped of their power. Rather than confront this cognitive dissonance, some stand as gatekeepers, blocking access to opportunities. Ta-Nehisi Coates wrote in his memoir, The Message, “It may seem strange that people who already attained a position of power through violence invest so much time justifying their plunder with words.” And yet, “a story must be told, one that raises a wall between themselves and those they seek to throttle and rob.” Simply put, the subjugation of Black people in America has always required a justification, namely that the failures of the black community had nothing to do with the racism they endured. This mythology is central to understanding resistance to racial progress.
Take, for instance, the tragedy experienced by Ben Daniels and his two sons in 1879 after he tried to make a purchase at an Arkansas store with a fifty-dollar bill. Since the White merchant assumed no Black person could honestly acquire that much money, they notified the authorities and, without evidence, accused him of stealing. During the Jim Crow era, it was common for White locals to take the law into their own hands. And this story was no exception. After his arrest, a group of White men overpowered the sheriff, removed the three men from the jail, and lynched them, leaving their bodies on gruesome display to terrorize the black community. In a society that centers on whiteness, Black people were not supposed to be successful. The lynching of Ben Daniels and his son demonstrates the dangers of violating this expectation.
Black success strips the fabric of the well-woven lie of black inferiority and lays the threadbare. Another such example can be found in Oklahoma. O.W. Gurley, a Black businessman born on Christmas Day in 1867 to formerly enslaved parents from Alabama, helped to found a freedmen’s town in the Greenwood district of Tulsa, Oklahoma. After purchasing 30–40 acres of land, he sold the plots only to Black buyers. In doing so, Gurley created a thriving business district and community that Booker T. Washington referred to as “Negro Wall Street” but is “more commonly referred to as Black Wall Street. Greenwood flourished with numerous grocery stores, churches, beauty salons, doctors’ and lawyers’ offices, and a theatre. Nearly every business was owned and operated by Black people.
Some White Tulsa residents saw the success of a prosperous black business district as an existential threat. Denise Oliver Valez, a professor and community activist, wrote in Daily Kos, “People of color who violated these and other proscriptions could be designated ‘uppity n*ggers’ and subjected to acts of violence and intimidation that were meant to dissuade others from following their examples.” Sadly, that’s precisely what happened to the residents of Black Wall Street, as White Tulsa residents, at least 500 deputized by local authorities, destroyed their entire town block-by-block in 1921, killing hundreds. The violence began after authorities wrongfully accused a 17-year-old Black teenager, Dick Rowland, of assaulting a 19-year-old White woman, Sarah Page, in an elevator of a downtown department store. Yet, White Tulsans’Tulsans’n to burn homes and businesses and shoot Black people indiscriminately illustrates how Black success can trigger resentment and even violence in a society that believes they are less deserving.
How do these pieces of black history relate to the modern era? For starters, the notion of black success is still controversial. There’s a concerted effort to eliminate diversity, equity, and inclusion programs, as evidenced by Rep. Michael Cloud, R-Texas, introducing the “Dismantle DEI Act.” While these programs attempted to mitigate the racism Black people and other minority groups endure, some conservatives have suggested that these programs are unfair to White people. Racial progress, in that respect, is limited by a sort of tipping point, where too many Black stories of success are met with efforts to restrict the venues that uplifted them. If S.4516 becomes law, the federal government will dismantle programs “relating to advancing racial equity and support for underserved communities.” In response, Rep. Jasmine Crockett, D-Texas, asked at the hearing, “Why do predominantly White men believe the success of a Black person… is an existential threat?”
Crockett’s comment hit upon a salient point. Diversity, equity, and inclusion programs trigger a threat response in some White people. An article published in the Social and Personality Psychology Compass journal found that resistance can be explained in part by “(1) resource threat, or concern about losing access to outcomes and opportunities; (2) symbolic threat, or concern about the introduction of new values, culture, and expectations; and (3) ingroup morality threat, or concern about their group’s group’s perpetuating inequality (Iyer, 2022).” Thus, the Congresswoman’s comment suggesting that some White people feel threatened by DEI programs designed to extend opportunities to historically marginalized groups is supported by scholarly literature.
Some wrongfully perceive the increased presence of Black people in their workplace or schools as a resource threat. Those who believe racial groups are caught in a zero-sum game, fighting for limited resources, may oppose diversity programs for fear that such programs would limit opportunities for their group. Others want to avoid cultural changes, seeing theirs as the blueprint for how society should function. For illustration, far-right activist Laura Loomer claimed before the election that the “White House will smell like curry” if Kamala Harris were to win and become president. With the subtlety of a bull in a fine china shop, she alluded to the Vice president, signaling that she felt threatened by potential cultural differences.
Rep. Summer Lee D-Penn commented at the hearing that DEI programs “started the second the Civil Rights Act passed,” arguing that “policies like affirmative action and diversity, equity, and inclusion are the closest thing we’ve had to the mythical bootstraps that some of my colleagues insist historically and currently harmed communities need to pick themselves up by.” This, of course, is a reference to Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s quote, “It’s all right to tell a man to lift himself by his own bootstraps, but it is cruel jest to say to a bootless man that he ought to lift himself by his own bootstraps.” These programs were designed to elevate Black people, to provide them with equitable access to opportunities. As Lee noted, targeting these policies is no accident,” but rather part of a concerted effort to destroy the bridges that facilitated black success. They aim to portray White men as the victims of oppression. Yet, the irony wasn’t lost on Lee that “there’s been no oppression for the White man in this country.”
Why is “Black success seen as an existential threat? The triumph of Black people seems to violate the presumptions made by the broader society — that they are inherently less capable and qualified for positions. For instance, Charlie Kirk, a conservative political activist, posted, “If I see a Black pilot, I’m gonna be like ‘Boy, I hope he is qualified,'” His comments demonstrate how, in the modern era, the mere presence of a Black pilot triggers some White people to doubt whether they’ve been adequately vetted and trained. Some uphold this racist perspective because acknowledging that Black people are just as capable as any other group to fly a plane or hold a position of leadership would upend the stereotypes that have dominated American society for centuries. It would require those White people to acknowledge that their presumptions are driven by thinly veiled prejudice.
This post originally appeared on Medium and is edited and republished with author’s permission. Read more of Dr. Allison Gaines’ work on Medium.
