Finding My Internalized Racism

I love that Juneteenth falls during Pride Month. While I could highlight the countless humans of color who have been instrumental in both LGBTQ+ and civil rights, that’s not the best offering I can give on a day like today.

Instead, let me show you how I’m finding my racism and deconstructing it. It’s the most honest contribution I can make.

As a middle-aged white queer woman whose internalized bias nearly took her life, identifying my internalized racism isn’t something that can be wrapped up in a single essay. It’s layered, ongoing, and often uncomfortable.

But it’s real. And it matters.

The First Domino

To be clear, it was my internalized homophobia that nearly ended things for me, not my internalized racism. But once you start peeling back the layers of “I’m a good person” in one area, it topples the rest.

Internalized racism, misogyny, ableism, and transphobia: they’re all connected. All baked in. And once one domino falls, the rest begin to wobble.

I could only find the first domino by removing shame, and the most powerful path was to recognize, every single human has internalized bias, including racism. ALL OF US. Therefore, the only shame is in ignoring that reality and doing nothing about it.

Dropping the shame allowed me to identify the false dichotomy: just because I identify as a good person who would never knowingly harm a person of color, does not mean that I’m an ally, or even net neutral with my impact. In other words,

I can be a good person and still have internalized racism that harms humans I care about, and myself.

Sitting with that truth is a powerful exercise in and of itself. So let me ask you:

How does your allyship change when you release shame and accept that racism lives in all of us?

Learning to See

First, identification: Where is my internalized racism playing out in my life? Well, my brain couldn’t see it, because #neuroscience. I couldn’t intellectualize myself out of racism. So instead of thinking, I began doing.

As part of my first step, I began learning from the lived experience of Black humans, and just as importantly, I believed them. I sat in spaces to hear the stories of racial profiling, generational trauma, and systemic harm. AND I BELIEVED THEM.

Which, of course, made me want to act. Most of us, once we understand the injustice, want to take action. So I began sharing what they taught me, experimenting with my own words, as I tried to change minds and systems. And guess what?

I screwed up. I used harmful language. I centered myself. I did dumb things.

And it freaked me out.

When a Black woman you deeply respect, but have never spoken to directly, slides into your DMs with, “Excuse me, it’s time to check yourself. Here’s why…”

Whew. Buckle up, fam.

What happens when you say the wrong thing as an ally?

First, your ego-based defensiveness shows up faster than Elon can tweet. Yup. The exact reaction you know not to have… is the one you trip over immediately.

So you retreat. Lick your wounds. And hopefully, return with humility, ready to try again.

And then? You get called out again.

That’s when you realize: there’s no trophy for allyship. No scoreboard. No final boss where you “beat” racism.

There’s just impact. Your intent does not matter. It’s a hard habit to break: defending the harm you create through your positive intent. It’s especially hard for those of us raised on gold stars and good-girl approval.

Once you see how dumb it is, you can’t unsee it. I can be a good person and still create a negative impact. The question is, can I understand the harm enough (read: remove ego) to try again? Because that’s the only way to get to positive impact.

Go next. (This is a phrase that denotes “don’t waste time wallowing in your mistake, focus on the next opportunity to get it right.”)

Sustaining the Work

That’s when I realized truth #2: you always suck when you begin learning a new skill. Allyship to the Black community is no different. I’d rather suck while trying, then keep my head in the sand the way I did for the first 40 years of my life.

So you keep trying, and the feedback keeps coming. In fact, it increases! As hard as this can feel, it’s actually a good sign! It means the people you’re impacting are beginning to trust that you’ll listen when they tell you what’s up.

They won’t have to waste their time and energy reassuring you that “it’s okay” while also teaching you how to do better.

Rinse and repeat.

Where does this get me?

Depends. What kind of impact do you truly want to have?

What impact aligns with your Core Values, sparks a fire strong enough to withstand the iciness of whi