The Discomfort of Becoming Anti-Racist

It’s easy to imagine racism as something “out there”. Something other people have, something obvious and loud and hateful. But when I began my journey into anti-racism, I found that the most challenging part wasn’t confronting the world. It was confronting myself.

This wasn’t the kind of growth that felt exciting. It wasn’t energizing or empowering at first. It was disorienting. It was painful. And, in many ways, embarrassing. Because I had to admit that racism had shaped me… and still was.

Not in the form of outward hatred or blatant discrimination. But in subtle ways: in what I assumed, what I overlooked, who I trusted, who I dismissed. In what voices felt “authoritative” and which ones felt “emotional.” In the kind of leadership I found “professional.” In how often I pictured whiteness when I thought of safety, wisdom, or excellence.

None of it felt malicious. But it was all inherited. And it was all unexamined.

The Shock of Self-Discovery

Theologian James Cone once said, "There can be no justice without memory." That includes personal memory; the moments, the mindsets, the internal frameworks we’ve carried without question. For me, anti-racism didn’t start with a new belief. It started with an unraveling.

When I first began hearing the term “internalized white supremacy.” I bristled. I wanted to defend myself. “I’m not a white supremacist,” I thought. “I’m not that kind of person.” But the term wasn’t about violence or hate groups it was about the subtle, socially reinforced ways whiteness had become the default in my imagination and expectations.

Psychologist Beverly Tatum uses the metaphor of a moving walkway at the airport. Even if you’re not actively walking in a racist direction, if you do nothing, you’re still being carried forward by a system. Becoming anti-racist requires turning around and walking actively against the current. That turning around, that awareness, is exhausting. Not because the truth is too hard, but because we are so deeply conditioned not to see it and, often times, you are watching the community you are a part of smoothly pass you by in the opposite direction. Most often, this about face disrupts the lives of those around you, bumps into their comfort, causes them to stumble on this metaphorical walkway, and creates tensions you are fully responsible for. This isn’t a tension created from you being wrong but it is yours to own and navigate. I struggled for years with internal bruising that came from bumping into those closest to me.

When Awareness Feels Like Shame

In my early days of reckoning, I felt like I had to defend my character. I didn’t want to be the “bad guy.” But slowly, I realized this journey wasn’t about being good or bad. It was about being honest. And honesty meant recognizing that I had unconsciously absorbed ideas that harmed others.

For people who have benefitted from racial hierarchies (even unknowingly), anti-racism feels like loss at first. You lose your sense of innocence. You lose the luxury of unawareness. You might even lose relationships that depended on your silence. And most embarrassingly, you lose some sense of self.

Spiritually, it reminded me of the call in Ephesians 5:11: “Have nothing to do with the fruitless deeds of darkness, but rather expose them.” That exposure starts inside. Not just in systems and policies, but in my own mind and heart. And it doesn’t always feel like health. At first, it feels like harm.

Discomfort is Not the Enemy

I used to think discomfort was a sign I was doing something wrong. But it turns out, it was often a sign I was finally doing something real.

Social scientists call this phase “cognitive dissonance.” It’s the internal conflict we experience when our beliefs and behaviors don’t align. When you begin anti-racist work, your values (equality, dignity, justice) suddenly clash with your past assumptions and your current habits. That dissonance is your soul stretching to make room for something truer.

But you can’t shortcut through it. Growth demands pain. You don’t become anti-racist by reading a book and posting a quote. You become anti-racist by letting the truth change your instincts and your behavior. It’s the hard, uncomfortable conversations with others. It’s no longer letting racist remarks pass unchecked because they’re “just a joke”.

What I’m Still Learning

I’ve learned to notice who I center in conversations. Whose comfort I prioritize. Whose voices I default to. I’ve learned that repentance isn’t a one-time apology, it’s a lifelong reorientation. It’s not enough to say, “I’m not racist.” We are called to be actively pursuing equity, prioritizing dignity, and seeking out restoration.

And in the midst of it, I’ve come to see anti-racism as a deeply hopeful path. Because if racism is something we learned, then it’s something we can unlearn. It doesn’t mean I get it right all the time. It doesn’t mean I’m free of bias. But it does mean I’m committed to a posture of humility and correction.

I now know that discomfort is not a threat to my identity. It’s an invitation to my healing.

A Gentle Invitation

If you are in this journey too, if you’re waking up and feeling that sting of self-awareness, I want to encourage you:

Let it sting. Let it unsettle you. But don’t let it stop you.

That discomfort is not shame, it’s sacred. It means the Spirit is doing something in you. It means you're letting the walls come down. And it means you’re growing toward the kind of person who no longer needs to be seen as good, but wants to do good…even when it’s quiet and especially when it’s hard.

Here are a few questions to sit with this week:

·      When was the last time I got defensive about race? What was I protecting?

·      Whose experiences do I believe without question? Whose do I second-guess?

·      Where have I formed strong convictions about people I’ve spent little time with?

·      Have I ever avoided a hard conversation about race to keep the peace with someone I was afraid to upset?

Let the questions stretch you. Sit in the tension. You are who you are becoming.