Me and White Supremacy: Combat Racism, Change the World, and Become a Good Ancestor

Layla Saad begins by introducing herself as the reader’s guide during their upcoming 28-day antiracism journey. This 28-day challenge was originally a free PDF digital workbook she posted to Instagram and went viral. Her goal in writing this book is to become a “good ancestor,” or someone who sparks positive change today to ensure a better future for generations to come. White supremacy is not a new phenomenon, but a power dynamic “maintained and upheld by everyone who holds white privilege—whether or not you want it or agree with it” (3). The aim of the book is to ask those with white privilege to continuously hold themselves accountable for the ways in which they have upheld white supremacy over BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, People of Color), implicitly and explicitly, and focus on ways they can help to dismantle it.

The journey laid out in the subsequent chapters is partially a movement towards intellectual understanding, but also toward emotional understanding. It is meant for those with white privilege who are willing and able to do the work to help confront white supremacy in their daily lives, and are open to considering the multi-faceted ways they are complicit in white supremacy and the unearned privileges that they have gained because of it.

She then hones in on white liberal progressives, noting that people today do not live in a post-racial society, but one where inequity, micro-aggressions, and discrimination still exist. Rather than focusing on the issues that “other white people” (5) have, this book is about examining how the reader specifically has contributed to, benefitted from, and can help to dismantle white supremacy in their own life. Saad notes this work is emotionally, physically, and spiritually taxing, and will likely make the reader uncomfortable at times. Even though this work can be overwhelming and intimidating, those who care about love and justice can and must do the work in order to become a good ancestor.

Saad gives a sense of her background, acknowledging her own intersectional identity: “I am a Black woman. More specifically, I am an East African and Middle Eastern Black woman. I am a Muslim woman. I am a British citizen. I live in Qatar. And I speak, write, and teach to a global audience” (7). Her parents were both African immigrants to the U.K. Saad and her siblings grew up in Wales and England, but eventually moved to Qatar, where Saad still resides today. Her father’s career as a mariner instilled in her the idea of being a “citizen of the world” (7), while her mother’s desire to make sure her children understood their cultural background gave Saad a strong sense of self. This was not, however, reflected in the world around her. Despite only remembering a few instances of overt racism, Saad instead remembers always feels like the “other,” through indirect messaging at school, on TV, in books, at the make-up counter, and elsewhere. This experience cemented her desire to make sure that Black girls everywhere know that they matter.

Having lived in three different continents in her lifetime, Saad points out that as a Black Muslim woman living in Qatar, she currently has privilege by living in a country where she practices the dominant religion and is also cisgender, heterosexual, socioeconomically stable, able-bodied, educated, and neuro-typical. Qatar was not built on colonial slave labor as many Western countries were. But Saad grew up in a predominantly white and Christian country and knows from her time spent on the internet that white supremacy is still dominant in the lives of many BIPOC. Though she does not live in a mostly white society, she still receives hateful messages and emails about her work from all over the world.

Despite living and working in Qatar, Saad argues that white supremacy has negatively influenced her self-image and sense of self-worth. She wishes to use her voice to help other BIPOC experiencing the pain of white supremacy now and in the future. The experience outlined in this book, grounded in learning and self-reflective journaling, is meant to help deepen the readers’ consciousness and understanding of how white supremacy manifests in their own lives.

Saad defines white supremacy as “a racist ideology that is based upon the belief that white people are superior in many ways to people of other races and that therefore, white people should be dominant over other races” (12). Rather than merely a way of thinking, institutions and systems that a society has been built upon uphold white supremacy. Though many believe that white supremacy only applies to neo-Nazi or extremist hate groups, this belief is deceptive and dangerous. White-dominant societies or communities are inherently white supremacist because the institutions and systems that comprise them were constructed to uphold white dominance. White supremacy as a system is something a person is are born into, and one that obfuscates the power and privilege white people have over BIPOC. All people with white privilege benefit from white supremacy. There are no exceptions to this rule. Dismantling this power dynamic means waking up to what is really happening, and understanding the full cost of white privilege, for which non-white people pay.

Saad’s intended audience for the book is white people, or those with white privilege—including bi- or multi-racial people, although she instructs them to approach the journal prompts with more flexibility than white people.

In order to do the work outlined in subsequent chapters, Saad asks the reader to bring three things: “your truth, your love, your commitment” (17). By telling the whole truth rather than skimming the surface, she argues that one can get rid of the “rotten core of your internalized white supremacy” (17), ensuring that this 28-day challenge is not a thought exercise but a radical personal shift in antiracist understanding and action. This will restore the dignity of BIPOC and begin the work of healing. By bringing love into the work, one commits to doing something greater than the self. Rather than viewing “love” as verb, love transforms into an action, or tangible reality for BIPOC.

Rather than basing the work in shame and guilt, which are not sustainable for long-term paradigm shifts, love ensures that the reader continues the work of antiracism long past the 28-day challenge. By committing to the challenge, the reader acknowledges both the difficulty of the work and the ongoing fight it presents. Though it may stoke feelings of anger, frustration, or disillusionment (likely aimed at Saad), this is a typical part of the work and it is a product of white fragility and supremacy. She recommends finding an anchor to help commit to the work— particularly when it gets increasingly difficult to stay focused.

The reader is instructed to keep a journal, go at their own pace, be specific and avoid generalizations in their writing and truth-telling, working sequentially through the prompts, either alone or with a dedicated group, and to keep asking questions about antiracism.

Antiracism work is challenging and Saad encourages the reader to find ways of managing self-care. In this instance, self-care means staying grounded and staying physically and emotionally well, rather than indulging in luxury goods or services. This may also mean finding an accountability partner with whom to do or talk about the work (provided they are not a BIPOC). Saad says that it is entirely normal for this work to bring up feelings of anxiety, guilt, shame, anger, and more, but by allowing one’s self to feel them, the participant wakes up to the evil of white supremacy. Antiracism is a lifelong practice rather than a single 28-day journey to understanding; this means there is no celebration or reward for antiracism work. The thanks for the work will come from knowing the participant will leave the world better than they found it.