By Ronnie Galvin, Managing Director, Community Investment
On June 25, a cross-racial, cross-sector, cross-jurisdictional group of 30 people representing different aspects of the Greater Washington Community Foundation family convened to discuss Heather McGhee’s Book, The Sum of Us: What Racism Costs Everyone and How We Can Prosper Together. This was the second meeting in a new Community Book Group experiment we launched at the beginning of this year to connect members of our community in more meaningful ways. As much as we desire to become more collectively informed as a result of reading important books together, we also intend to use the occasion to build a community of will that is aligned and ready to work on challenging issues affecting our region.
Matters related to racial equity and the racial wealth gap are at the top of that list.
As we gathered together last Friday, people offered their reactions to the book and McGhee’s central argument: that racism has a cost that is accrued to all of us. She points out that the same system that stole land from indigenous peoples, that exploited Black people’s labor—and left us out of America’s capacity for producing prosperity—is now turning on the White working-class and middle-class. In a sense, “the chickens have come home to roost.”
Truth be told, it has always been this way. To this point, McGhee lifts up the history of drained public pools all across America (including in the North) as an example of the determination to avoid integration and to deny Black people’s access to public goods and opportunities for better health, wealth, education, and overall well-being. This practice, sanctioned by governments and underwritten by corporate power, signaled White people’s readiness to discard any public benefit that they had to share with Black people. Essentially this meant if White people couldn’t have the pool all to themselves, then nobody would have a pool.
This posture, born of what McGhee calls the “zero-sum" paradigm, resulted in hundreds of closed pools around the country. Everyone’s quality of life was diminished as a result. This scorched earth pattern has played out well beyond the example of the drained pool. It is front and center in current day efforts that are intended to ensure more equitable public education, healthcare, housing, voting rights, employment, income, and wealth.
A compelling through-line emerged from the perspectives of several Black book group attendees. Each of them, in their own way, made it clear that the idea of racism costing all of us is yesterday’s news to most Black folks. They plainly articulated how they could no longer spend their energy educating White people about racism, nor invest their hopes in the possibility that White folks (as potential allies) might finally embrace this truth and move toward what McGhee calls the “solidarity dividend”—benefits that accrue to all of us if we were ever to believe that “we are all in this together.”
There was also discussion about the durability and efficacy of multiracial coalitions as away to our collective salvation within our nation. As we wrestled with the implications of this question, these same commentators expressed a level of suspicion and skepticism that many Black people have long held about multiracial coalitions and their ability to deliver the freedom and liberation that we have long struggled to achieve.
I hold this suspicion too—and at the same time, I am guardedly encouraged. The sentiment expressed by these Black commentators, could signal that the terms of engagement and what it means to be in solidarity with each other—perhaps in the context of the kind of multiracial coalitions that can produce equity, justice, and healing—are being redefined by the very people who have suffered the most in America’s racial caste system. The fact that this level of boldness and conviction found its way into an open forum that included nonprofit partners, philanthropic leaders, individual donors, and Community Foundation advisory board members, trustees, and staff could indicate that the “sum of us” contemplated by McGhee is within our reach.
At the end of our time together, I extended a soft invitation to the folks who convened with us. I asked them to consider joining us at the Greater Washington Community Foundation in an effort to design and establish the kind of truth, racial healing, and transformation effort that McGhee speaks about in her book. To be sure, the manner of transparency, deep listening, candor, and aspiration for something greater than we are already witnessing in our community book group could be the spark that just might catalyze such a game changing possibility for our region.
Who’s with us? If you’d like to get involved, you can contact me at rgalvin@thecommunityfoundation.org.