White Privilege In The Caribbean

A collection of thoughts about white West Indians...In honor of our alleged liberation from Britain's imperial rule.These may appear random and out of context, partly because I don't really believe that everything has to have a coherent flow for the individual points to make sense and also because these are merely excerpts from a longer conversation I had with a black WI woman this morning. Trust that they're all interconnected and perhaps allow yourself to tease out even more connections that I was unable to see...Whiteness is a funny thing in the Caribbean. Some pretend that it's nonexistent, but really it is invisible, similar to whiteness in the United States but not quite the same. While our lives are different from those of Black Americans, we suffer oppression along the same lines. Here are a few examples of how whiteness "functions" in the Caribbean:

  • Pretending that racism doesn't exist amongst white locals is completely fallacious considering many of them go to Canada to find a white spouse as directed by whatever patriarch/matriarch exists at the time and the only reason they even leave their palatial garrisons to travel to foreign countries is for the purpose of marrying someone white. They would never ~dare~ marry a local BW/BM. Of course if you look you can find exceptions. Every one knows that the true #slavemoney families won't allow their children to "mix" with black locals.

 

  • On other islands (namely, Montserrat in this case), when white locals try to build gated communities to segregate themselves from the black population, the people actually protest and threaten to ensure that this post-modern acts of racism don't exist. In Saint Lucia? It seems we do the opposite. As each year passes, a new fancy villa is erected and real estate is sold off to the highest bidder regardless of whether or not they're local. Funny how easily we let foreigners buy up all we have while the people on our island have nothing and the middle class will barely be able to afford land in the next 10-20 years... We live in a culture that gets drunk on screaming "Nothing can be done!" but on other islands it turns out they can figure out how to organize and shout people down...

 

  • Why are white West Indians always complaining about how they aren't accepted [by Black West Indians] abroad? But in their own countries, they won't hang around people they deem too nèg. Hm. It's like going abroad traumatizes them because for once, they aren't special and white people are a dime a dozen. Now it's time for them to claw at their island culture in hope of some of the special treatment they're afforded at home. When black West Indians refuse to give it to them, they whip out the sob story.

 

  • People act like there's no white privilege in the Caribbean... But there is... There are places white young women go on this island that I would *never* go but nothing happens to 'em. The same areas where black women would be harassed, threatened and followed are completely safe for women of a certain hue. Because when people know who your white father is, it offers a certain degree of protection. There's still protection in your slave master's last name. Is that not white privilege -- total safety where black people face danger?

Black Feminism In The Caribbean: Examining The Mulatto Effect

One of my favorite mythologies about the Caribbean that seems to be perpetuated amongst emigrant communities and foreigners alike is that we have transcended race due to our highly multiracial and integrated society. Due to my interst in black feminism, this lie has been exposed as entirely false. Even without the academic language of feminism, I knew this intuitively. While there is indeed a high degree of multiracialism, the notion of transcending race is mythical because the Caribbean still suffers from crippling anti-blackness. Nearly every person, regardless of race, is complicit in this anti-blackness on some level or another.

At this point, some of you may already think I’m crazy. How can there be anti-blackness in a place where the population is mostly black? How can I, a black person, uphold anti-blackness? In the Caribbean, despite the lack of a large class of wealthy whites, we still have racial stratification; everyone in our society is complicit in upholding it. Parents of all shades of black wish for their children to come out lighter skinned. Women are pressured to destroy their natural hair textures to conform to what is “proper” (as dictated by European standards). History is taught in school in such a way that we are ashamed of slavery but proud of the accomplishments of the British/French.

The experience of “whiteness” can be approximated by being biracial which I’ll use interchangeably with “half-white” for clarification of which biracial identity I’m referring to. I call this the mulatto effect, putting a name to the nuanced Caribbean experience of “white privilege” that creates an insulated world where lighter skinned black people do not experience the full extent of anti-blackness.

In the Caribbean, blackness is the dominating framework through which race should be discussed, but blackness in the Caribbean is heavily influenced by East Asian (mainly Chinese) and South Asian (mainly Indian) cultures and racial mixing with white people both local and foreign. Different islands have different racial compositions that add additional nuance to a discussion. While Trinidad and Guyana are known for their large populations of Indians for example, similar proportions of Indian populations do not exist in Saint Lucia.

The mulatto effect is how we can perceive the organization of the Caribbean’s racial hierarchy. The top is not necessarily white, due to an excessively small population of  white people with NO black relatives. White adjacent people who come from either historically white families or who have visible proximity to whiteness occupy the highest racial class. We may not have a significant white ruling class, but a biracial/multiracial class that receives distinctly better treatment than the majority of the “100% black” population.

Without a distinct and large white upper class we see anti-black dynamics play out in a way that misleads people to believe we have transcended race. We’ve merely transplanted a racial hierarchy in a way that suits our population. The closest to white occupy the top, whereas the furthest away from whiteness occupy the bottom of the hierarchy. Every aspect of this hierarchy was constructed during colonialism and has not disappeared, even today.

Racial hierarchies aren’t just theories. Reflecting on my time in primary school for example, there were a number of occasions where half-white students — myself included— were spared punishment because they came from “good” families. While many black students in the class came from similar or higher economic classes, they were not spared punishment. They lacked the visible “goodness”, that was in this case, applied to visible whiteness. In customer service, visibly half-white people, especially those who don’t look local, receive better treatment than dark skinned locals. There are a number of other ways in which half-whiteness/whiteness is privileged with regards to beauty standards, assumptions of intelligence and more. I could go on forever pointing out the ways in which half-whiteness is privileged.

So what is the point of all of this? Why draw your attention to a racial hierarchy that I myself benefit from due to my white father, and my specific biracial phenotype (light skinned, loose curls, thin, able-bodied)? As a feminist and an anti-racist, with a commitment to social justice and equality, I recognize that this hierarchy is oppressive to everyone. Racial hierarchies like this one uphold destructive colonial mindsets that were created with the goal of maintaining black subjugation. The first step we can take in decolonizing (in this regard) is by recognizing where we see “the mulatto effect”. Where do we see our privilege or our oppression?

Most non-white people in the West Indies can intuit that they are treated differently for being darker, for having “bad” hair etc. These feelings and notions are patently invalidated as bitterness or jealousy. There is no vocabulary to speak about the injustice of having half-white citizens prioritized and treated significantly better than non-white citizens. The vocabulary doesn’t matter as much as our ability to recognize the injustice. I invite you to consider moments when you felt like your blackness was a mark, when you were dehumanized or privileged because of your skin tone. Both reflections are important since without biracial recognition of our privilege, we cannot possibly hope to remove the colonial stain on our region. Through recognition and self-reflection, you will have taken the first individual steps towards radical politics and regional black liberation. Of course, as activists and as individuals, we still have a lot of work to do.