Thank you for writing this, Desireé! I have primarily Irish and Scottish ancestry though I’ve been cut off from that cultural heritage (except for what I’ve learned on my own), and I’ve often felt that everything white supremacist empires (and their colonization) have done to the rest of the world we (white folks of European descent) did to other Europeans (ourselves) first. My cultural heritage was not passed down to me because the British empire tried to erase those cultures, and in my family lines it was lost. I've struggled to articulate that feeling and also struggled to know what to do with that feeling. Amalgamated "white culture" here in the US is so often seen as bland, boring, vanilla—like a kind of non-culture—and to the extent that's true, it seems to be true largely because our own indigenous cultures were systematically eradicated. As someone whose true cultural heritage has been replaced with a "non-culture" it seems potentially useful to sit with the pain of that loss as a means of finding a way into the experiences of indigenous peoples of color and the devastation they have faced at the hands of white colonization. And as you say, to recognize this shared history of resistance where (from my perspective) whiteness has often felt somewhat othering in the space of resistance work here in this country. Both because of white supremacist oppression (obviously) and because of the failures of white folks (white feminists for example) to stand shoulder to shoulder with Black and Brown activists. All of which is to say, again, thank you so much for your work and for sharing your wisdom with the world.
I appreciate you sharing this. The severing of cultural heritage is one of the foundational violences of colonization—before it was exported globally, it was perfected on Europeans themselves. The British Empire, along with other colonial powers, worked to erase indigenous European identities, languages, and traditions, enforcing a homogenous “whiteness” that functioned as both a weapon and a wound.
That loss—of culture, of lineage, of ancestral connection—is a grief that many white folks have yet to name, and yet it lingers. It shows up as the “non-culture” you describe, a manufactured identity built to serve power rather than people. The challenge, as you’re articulating, is what to do with that grief. Because sitting with the loss is important, but it can’t stop there—it must be a bridge into solidarity, a way to deepen understanding of how colonization has ravaged communities of color, and how whiteness itself was designed as a tool of division.
And you’re absolutely right—whiteness has often been an othering force, even within resistance work. The failures of white feminists, white activists, and so-called allies to stand in true solidarity have reinforced that divide. But resistance has never been the exclusive domain of any one people; history holds countless examples of those who refused to conform to empire, who fought for their communities despite the costs. That is the thread worth reclaiming.
For me, I’m deeply thankful that my mother was intentional about not only holding on to our Irish heritage but making sure it was imparted to me, just as I do with my own children. And that’s why I have to laugh when the “plastic Paddys” try to tell me I’m not Irish simply because I’m Black. Because, hmmm… interesting. In my home, we were intentionally Irish, whereas so many white-bodied Irish Americans traded their green for white in order to serve the very colonizing force that oppressed them. It’s not easy to sit in the seat of both oppressed and oppressor, but it’s something that must be grappled with.
The work now is not just about reckoning with what was lost, but about making different choices in the present—about refusing the erasure, rejecting performative allyship, and stepping into co-creator role. That is the path forward.
Thank you for being willing to sit in the discomfort, to ask these questions, and to engage with this work. That, too, is a necessary part of the process.
Thank you for your thoughtful response. You're able to elaborate and articulate so clearly (and quickly!) thoughts and feelings that I've struggled to quite put my finger on. This is not an area in which I feel that I'm on solid footing—yet. So it can be a bit scary to say things out loud, so to speak. I love the way you phrased that "it must be a bridge into solidarity." That feels right to me. If white folks can let ourselves feel the pain of our own cultural erasure, then that pain can be a catalyzing force as well as a source of connection and solidarity. I think this is a generational trauma problem, as well, perhaps one element of which is reclaiming our lost cultural heritage (along with learning the history of how that heritage was taken from our ancestors—and how they resisted), in order to more fully align ourselves against those destructive colonizing powers in the present.
Thanks! I'd love to chat with you sometime for feedback about my work on combatting anti-woke rhetoric. I haven't posted it yet...I know from experience that it has to be absolutely perfect before I post because of the firehose of anti-wokery that I'll get the second I post. I think I've got something that will help people understand and heal from toxic anti-wokeism, and also will give people a framework to effectively respond to anti-woke rhetoric. It's been a huge journey putting this together and I draw inspiration from folks like you who speak truth and offer support and encouragement.
Thank you for writing this, Desireé! I have primarily Irish and Scottish ancestry though I’ve been cut off from that cultural heritage (except for what I’ve learned on my own), and I’ve often felt that everything white supremacist empires (and their colonization) have done to the rest of the world we (white folks of European descent) did to other Europeans (ourselves) first. My cultural heritage was not passed down to me because the British empire tried to erase those cultures, and in my family lines it was lost. I've struggled to articulate that feeling and also struggled to know what to do with that feeling. Amalgamated "white culture" here in the US is so often seen as bland, boring, vanilla—like a kind of non-culture—and to the extent that's true, it seems to be true largely because our own indigenous cultures were systematically eradicated. As someone whose true cultural heritage has been replaced with a "non-culture" it seems potentially useful to sit with the pain of that loss as a means of finding a way into the experiences of indigenous peoples of color and the devastation they have faced at the hands of white colonization. And as you say, to recognize this shared history of resistance where (from my perspective) whiteness has often felt somewhat othering in the space of resistance work here in this country. Both because of white supremacist oppression (obviously) and because of the failures of white folks (white feminists for example) to stand shoulder to shoulder with Black and Brown activists. All of which is to say, again, thank you so much for your work and for sharing your wisdom with the world.
I appreciate you sharing this. The severing of cultural heritage is one of the foundational violences of colonization—before it was exported globally, it was perfected on Europeans themselves. The British Empire, along with other colonial powers, worked to erase indigenous European identities, languages, and traditions, enforcing a homogenous “whiteness” that functioned as both a weapon and a wound.
That loss—of culture, of lineage, of ancestral connection—is a grief that many white folks have yet to name, and yet it lingers. It shows up as the “non-culture” you describe, a manufactured identity built to serve power rather than people. The challenge, as you’re articulating, is what to do with that grief. Because sitting with the loss is important, but it can’t stop there—it must be a bridge into solidarity, a way to deepen understanding of how colonization has ravaged communities of color, and how whiteness itself was designed as a tool of division.
And you’re absolutely right—whiteness has often been an othering force, even within resistance work. The failures of white feminists, white activists, and so-called allies to stand in true solidarity have reinforced that divide. But resistance has never been the exclusive domain of any one people; history holds countless examples of those who refused to conform to empire, who fought for their communities despite the costs. That is the thread worth reclaiming.
For me, I’m deeply thankful that my mother was intentional about not only holding on to our Irish heritage but making sure it was imparted to me, just as I do with my own children. And that’s why I have to laugh when the “plastic Paddys” try to tell me I’m not Irish simply because I’m Black. Because, hmmm… interesting. In my home, we were intentionally Irish, whereas so many white-bodied Irish Americans traded their green for white in order to serve the very colonizing force that oppressed them. It’s not easy to sit in the seat of both oppressed and oppressor, but it’s something that must be grappled with.
The work now is not just about reckoning with what was lost, but about making different choices in the present—about refusing the erasure, rejecting performative allyship, and stepping into co-creator role. That is the path forward.
Thank you for being willing to sit in the discomfort, to ask these questions, and to engage with this work. That, too, is a necessary part of the process.
Thank you for your thoughtful response. You're able to elaborate and articulate so clearly (and quickly!) thoughts and feelings that I've struggled to quite put my finger on. This is not an area in which I feel that I'm on solid footing—yet. So it can be a bit scary to say things out loud, so to speak. I love the way you phrased that "it must be a bridge into solidarity." That feels right to me. If white folks can let ourselves feel the pain of our own cultural erasure, then that pain can be a catalyzing force as well as a source of connection and solidarity. I think this is a generational trauma problem, as well, perhaps one element of which is reclaiming our lost cultural heritage (along with learning the history of how that heritage was taken from our ancestors—and how they resisted), in order to more fully align ourselves against those destructive colonizing powers in the present.
Great work! I just posted a link to this on Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/kevinhing.bsky.social/post/3ljkerpnz522l.
Thanks I’m now following you there too
Thanks! I'd love to chat with you sometime for feedback about my work on combatting anti-woke rhetoric. I haven't posted it yet...I know from experience that it has to be absolutely perfect before I post because of the firehose of anti-wokery that I'll get the second I post. I think I've got something that will help people understand and heal from toxic anti-wokeism, and also will give people a framework to effectively respond to anti-woke rhetoric. It's been a huge journey putting this together and I draw inspiration from folks like you who speak truth and offer support and encouragement.