Slow to Speak: 3 Ways White People Can Practice Listening

We texted back and forth about a recent news event. I tried to let her know I saw what was happening, and I cared. She thanked me and challenged me to think about speaking boldly about racial injustice. Privilege listens to privilege, after all.

I agreed, but I internally, I balked at the idea—not because I didn’t think I should speak out, but because I thought I already was. Her encouragement to be an ally implied to me that I wasn’t already one. I responded with a few questions and admitted several fears, until eventually the late text conversation faded with the night.

I couldn’t sleep. I reread what I wrote probably 25 times. I analyzed my life, my words, and my work. And I realized that my questions and fears voiced through a long-winded text message were really an attempt to defend myself. Instead of listening to a simple and needed exhortation from a friend, there I was, offering reasons why that exhortation wasn’t for me.

Proverbs 18:13 says, “If one gives an answer before he hears, it is his folly and shame.” My response to my friend showed that even though I’d read her words, I didn’t truly hear. I grabbed my armor to protect myself against any poking and prodding in my soul. But her prodding was more like a doctor prying me open to expose sickness and work toward healing. Healing can’t happen when I’m holding a shield and wearing a coat of mail.

As a white person, I do not and cannot fully understand the challenges that people of color face every day. I need to learn to listen. It’s an act that seems so basic yet so difficult at the same time. And when the time comes to speak, whether it’s engaging in conversation with people of color or speaking boldly to others in privilege, we do everyone a disservice if we haven’t first taken the time to listen. It is our folly and shame.

Especially for those in privilege, I want to offer three practical ways we can listen to our black and brown brothers and sisters. I offer these not as someone who’s done them well, but as a white woman learning little by little to take the armor off and allow others to dig out the sickness in my own life. Or, as Jesus would say, to help me remove the log in my eye before I start pointing out the speck in another’s.

1. Take inventory of who and what you read.

A couple years ago, I was challenged on this and realized that almost every book I read was written by either a 30-something white woman or a deceased white man. I have nothing against 30-something white women (I am one), and I’ve learned and will continue to learn a great deal from reading works from wise people like C.S. Lewis. But if those are the only voices I hear, I’ve missed much of the conversation. There are brilliant and beautiful books on all kinds of topics written by men and women of color, and we should listen to and learn from them. We don’t have to agree with everything an author writes in order to find value in their story. If we are only reading people we agree with, we’re likely either not reading critically enough or not reading diversely enough. Read thoughtfully, read diversely, and read without defensiveness.

At the bottom of this post, I’ve included a few book recommendations. There are many more worth reading, but these are a great place to start. The books below all have to do with race or other social justice issues, but I believe we should be reading authors of color on all kinds of topics and genres (visual art, music, parenting, theology, cooking, science, poetry, etc.).

The beauty of a book is that you can’t talk back. It’s a powerful exercise in listening.

2. Assess who you follow on social media.

As a writer, I follow many other writers on Instagram and Facebook, and just like with books, I realized what a homogenous group I followed. Simply following and reading posts from people from all kinds of backgrounds has opened my eyes to other perspectives. Most of all, it’s humbled me to realize how much I don’t know. Tearing down the false notion that I, or people who look and live like me, have all the answers is essential for my life and faith. The more we learn how much we don’t know, the better listeners we become. Then when it’s time to speak, we’re actually equipped to say something.

One very practical way to listen to others through social media is by joining the Be The Bridge Facebook Group. Hard and needed conversations happen within that group, and listening is a requirement. New members are not allowed to comment or post until they’ve worked through provided resources and have listened within the group for three months. To join, click here.

3. Enter into real life conversations.

In some ways, this is easier than online. We can’t hide behind a screen, so we may be more likely to offer a kind response or an understanding nod. We’re willing to observe social rules that don’t seem to apply to the Internet.

But in other ways, listening to those in our real life circles proves even more challenging. As a white person, I often avoid these conversations. It’s not because I have any intention of saying something malicious, but because it can be uncomfortable or even painful to look directly at the wounds caused by injustice—especially wounds caused by my ancestors and me.

Hard conversations about painful topics may make us feel uncomfortable, and our temptation can be to tie them up with a tidy bow. To truly listen to others, especially those different than us, we have to learn to sit with their stories. We must avoid jumping to respond with our own story as an attempt for closure. We shouldn’t put on the armor of defensiveness. Often, the task is as simple as keeping our mouths closed and our ears open.

Let me offer a warning on this. We cannot invite friends of color into our lives as mere motivation to prove we’re not racist. Then we’ve still made it about us, and we’ve objectified people of color like a trophy wife—asking them to cling to our arm merely to make us look good. Shame on us.

It’s just the opposite. We need friends of color not to prove ourselves an ally or woke or whatever, but to help us see that we’ve got a log stuck in our eyes. We need others who will expose our blind spots, which sometimes means allowing them to help yank the log out. Why would we ever expect that process to be painless?

We can listen, take time to reflect, and then form a thoughtful response or question. But the listening must come first. As James writes, let’s be “quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger.”

Let’s Do the Work

It’s not the job of people of color to carry the full load of racial reconciliation. White friends, we need to do the work. We need to read and study and learn and dig into our own lives and history. Many people of color have graciously helped us along by writing their stories, sharing their words, and answering our questions. But it is an insult to our black and brown brothers and sisters when we expect them to overlook our ignorance if we’re willfully sitting in it.

Scripture tells us that God’s people are from “every tribe and tongue and people and nation.” How beautiful is that? In this Information Age and in our diverse country, we have access to the stories and thoughts of many different people. We’d do well to listen to them.

When it comes to issues of race, we can listen, take time to reflect, and then form a thoughtful response or question. But the listening must come first. Click To Tweet