Sociology
![Ibram X. Kendi - [object Object] author](https://res.cloudinary.com/readsomnia/image/upload/authors/a_a_ibram_x_kendi.jpg)
How to Be an Antiracist
#1 NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER • From the National Book Award–winning author of Stamped from the Beginning comes a "groundbreaking" (Time) approach to understanding and uprooting racism and inequality in our society-and in ourselves.
"The most courageous book to date on the problem of race in the Western mind."-The New York Times
ONE OF THE BEST BOOKS OF THE YEAR-The New York Times Book Review, Time, NPR, The Washington Post, Shelf Awareness, Library Journal, Publishers Weekly, Kirkus Reviews
Antiracism is a transformative concept that reorients and reenergizes the conversation about racism-and, even more fundamentally, points us toward liberating new ways of thinking about ourselves and each other. At its core, racism is a powerful system that creates false hierarchies of human value; its warped logic extends beyond race, from the way we regard people of different ethnicities or skin colors to the way we treat people of different sexes, gender identities, and body types. Racism intersects with class and culture and geography and even changes the way we see and value ourselves. In How to Be an Antiracist, Kendi takes readers through a widening circle of antiracist ideas-from the most basic concepts to visionary possibilities-that will help readers see all forms of racism clearly, understand their poisonous consequences, and work to oppose them in our systems and in ourselves.
Kendi weaves an electrifying combination of ethics, history, law, and science with his own personal story of awakening to antiracism. This is an essential work for anyone who wants to go beyond the awareness of racism to the next step: contributing to the formation of a just and equitable society.
"The most courageous book to date on the problem of race in the Western mind."-The New York Times
ONE OF THE BEST BOOKS OF THE YEAR-The New York Times Book Review, Time, NPR, The Washington Post, Shelf Awareness, Library Journal, Publishers Weekly, Kirkus Reviews
Antiracism is a transformative concept that reorients and reenergizes the conversation about racism-and, even more fundamentally, points us toward liberating new ways of thinking about ourselves and each other. At its core, racism is a powerful system that creates false hierarchies of human value; its warped logic extends beyond race, from the way we regard people of different ethnicities or skin colors to the way we treat people of different sexes, gender identities, and body types. Racism intersects with class and culture and geography and even changes the way we see and value ourselves. In How to Be an Antiracist, Kendi takes readers through a widening circle of antiracist ideas-from the most basic concepts to visionary possibilities-that will help readers see all forms of racism clearly, understand their poisonous consequences, and work to oppose them in our systems and in ourselves.
Kendi weaves an electrifying combination of ethics, history, law, and science with his own personal story of awakening to antiracism. This is an essential work for anyone who wants to go beyond the awareness of racism to the next step: contributing to the formation of a just and equitable society.
Editorial Reviews
"What do you do after you have written Stamped From the Beginning, an award-winning history of racist ideas? . . . If you're Ibram X. Kendi, you craft another stunner of a book. . . . What emerges from these insights is the most courageous book to date on the problem of race in the Western mind, a confessional of self-examination that may, in fact, be our best chance to free ourselves from our national nightmare."-The New York Times
"How to Be an Antiracist couldn't come at a better time. . . . Kendi has gifted us with a book that is not only an essential instruction manual but also a memoir of the author's own path from anti-black racism to anti-white racism and, finally, to antiracism. . . . How to Be an Antiracist gives us a clear and compelling way to approach, as Kendi puts it in his introduction, ‘the basic struggle we're all in, the struggle to be fully human and to see that others are fully human.'"-NPR
"Kendi dissects why in a society where so few people consider themselves to be racist the divisions and inequalities of racism remain so prevalent. How to Be an Antiracist punctures the myths of a post-racial America, examining what racism really is-and what we should do about it."-Time
"Ibram Kendi is today's visionary in the enduring struggle for racial justice. In this personal and revelatory new work, he yet again holds up a transformative lens, challenging both mainstream and antiracist orthodoxy. He illuminates the foundations of racism in revolutionary new ways, and I am consistently challenged and inspired by his analysis. How to Be an Antiracist offers us a necessary and critical way forward."-Robin DiAngelo, New York Times bestselling author of White Fragility
"Ibram Kendi's work, through both his books and the Antiracist Research and Policy Center, is vital in today's sociopolitical climate. As a society, we need to start treating antiracism as action, not emotion-and Kendi is helping us do that."-Ijeoma Oluo, author of So You Want to Talk About Race
...
"How to Be an Antiracist couldn't come at a better time. . . . Kendi has gifted us with a book that is not only an essential instruction manual but also a memoir of the author's own path from anti-black racism to anti-white racism and, finally, to antiracism. . . . How to Be an Antiracist gives us a clear and compelling way to approach, as Kendi puts it in his introduction, ‘the basic struggle we're all in, the struggle to be fully human and to see that others are fully human.'"-NPR
"Kendi dissects why in a society where so few people consider themselves to be racist the divisions and inequalities of racism remain so prevalent. How to Be an Antiracist punctures the myths of a post-racial America, examining what racism really is-and what we should do about it."-Time
"Ibram Kendi is today's visionary in the enduring struggle for racial justice. In this personal and revelatory new work, he yet again holds up a transformative lens, challenging both mainstream and antiracist orthodoxy. He illuminates the foundations of racism in revolutionary new ways, and I am consistently challenged and inspired by his analysis. How to Be an Antiracist offers us a necessary and critical way forward."-Robin DiAngelo, New York Times bestselling author of White Fragility
"Ibram Kendi's work, through both his books and the Antiracist Research and Policy Center, is vital in today's sociopolitical climate. As a society, we need to start treating antiracism as action, not emotion-and Kendi is helping us do that."-Ijeoma Oluo, author of So You Want to Talk About Race
...
Readers Top Reviews
CavedwellerJaymel
Made me review everything I ever thought about racism/antiracism. Cogent argument paired with excoriating personal experiences. Expect the unexpected. Transformative. Made me rethink my own personal experience and beliefs in relation to class, gender, sexuality and disability. Can't recommend it highly enough.
BethCavedwellerJa
This is one of the best books I have EVER read👏👏🏿👏🏾👏🏽👏🏼👏🏻👏! It is a GREAT book! Having bought it, soon after the murder of George Floyd, I was afraid to start it! I was scared of what I would learn about myself 😬, and feared I would end up feeling guilty, ashamed, and helpless 😣. Professor Kendi’s honesty and vulnerability, from the first page, drew me right in. It is so inclusively written, as if he is speaking to each reader specifically. I have read things that have surprised me, things that have challenged me, and some that have made me wince. I have had many “Eureka” moments. Most unexpectedly, I have also felt comforted and encouraged! In “How to Be an Antiracist”, Ibram X Kendi has written a book which manages to be not only challenging and informative, but also accessible, personal, and inspirational. I LOVE THIS BOOK! You need to read this book, EVERYONE needs to read this book 📖!
Charlotte LouiseB
I encourage everyone, but particularly White people to read this. Lap up the education provided by the author, who has tackled this world wide issue with such honesty and sincerity. I learnt so much reading this, and it provided perspectives on racism that previously I hadn’t considered, because of my own white privilege, because no matter how much I try to educate myself, I will never walk in the shoes of a different race. In particular, holding the idea in my head that the author himself has previously held racist beliefs, which really resonated with me and made me realise it is not too late to accept that ‘not being racist’ in the past is not enough, and it’s not too late to accept you could have done more. It is future education and most importantly actual actions that lead to growth. I urge readers to check their own privilege while reading this - I found it impossible not to. Undoubtedly 5 stars from me!
Ron HousleyCharlo
How to be an Antiracist Ibram X. Kendi © 2019 305 pages A short Book Report by Ron Housley (4.1.2022) Enter now Ibram X. Kendi — spokesman from the hood who navigated white America’s racist obstacles to a pinnacle of academic prestige. Here is the story of his pilgrimage; here is the story of how he came to believe that Antiracism is somehow anti-racist. The prejudice I brought to this book was to assume that the foremost requirement of an Antiracist would be to embrace a personal activism targeting all signs of suspected racism visible to me in the real world out there. I assumed that Kendi would set out to persuade me that my own outlook was pathologically narrow; and that I would need significant re-education before I could ever enter the ranks of the semi-enlightened. The next prejudice I brought to this book was a certain annoyance at the phenomenon of changing one’s name in order to virtue signal a culturally enlightened status, particularly when the new name included an “X” or one of those African-sounding names so popular ever since Kunta Kinte burst on the scene. In the end I was pleasantly surprised to admire Kendi’s swagger and to admire the fact that his spirit had not been totally crushed by the white oppression he experienced, even though I did not concur with his assessment of the causes at play. EQUITY Kendi defines “racial equity” as the condition arising when all racial groups are in possession of the same stuff. His example is to tell us that there is inequity if 71% of White families own their own homes, while for other racial groups the percent of ownership may be 45 or 41. He doesn’t go on to clarify whether “racial equity” also requires exact same bank account balances, the same level of house, the same stock and bond portfolio balances, the same summer home ownerships, the same number and types of automobiles in the garage, the same vacation itineraries, and on and on. If all imaginable parameters must be equal in order to qualify as “equity,” then he has introduced a term describing a state unobtainable in reality. It may not be a useful term or concept. Such a term may be corrupting our mental attempt to achieve clarity. RACIST POLICY Early in his book, Kendi clarifies: “A racist policy is any measure that produces or sustains racial inequity between racial groups.” (p. 18) But since he has defined “inequity” as unobtainable in reality, he seems to have defined “racist policy” as any policy which exists anytime or anywhere, unless the outcome is that everybody winds up with the same amount of stuff. In other words, all policies are racist since equity is utterly unattainable. I couldn’t help but to reflect on how the expression, “equity,” has been substituted for “equality” in our public discourse, especially in the post-Trump era. Today’s national ruler...
Short Excerpt Teaser
MY RACIST INTRODUCTION
I despised suits and ties. For seventeen years I had been surrounded by suit-wearing, tie-choking, hat-flying church folk. My teenage wardrobe hollered the defiance of a preacher's kid.
It was January 17, 2000. More than three thousand Black people-with a smattering of White folks-arrived that Monday morning in their Sunday best at the Hylton Memorial Chapel in Northern Virginia. My parents arrived in a state of shock. Their floundering son had somehow made it to the final round of the Prince William County Martin Luther King Jr. oratorical contest.
I didn't show up with a white collar under a dark suit and matching dark tie like most of my competitors. I sported a racy golden-brown blazer with a slick black shirt and bright color-streaked tie underneath. The hem of my baggy black slacks crested over my creamy boots. I'd already failed the test of respectability before I opened my mouth, but my parents, Carol and Larry, were all smiles nonetheless. They couldn't remember the last time they saw me wearing a tie and blazer, however loud and crazy.
But it wasn't just my clothes that didn't fit the scene. My competitors were academic prodigies. I wasn't. I carried a GPA lower than 3.0; my SAT score barely cracked 1000. Colleges were recruiting my competitors. I was riding the high of having received surprise admission letters from the two colleges I'd halfheartedly applied to.
A few weeks before, I was on the basketball court with my high school team, warming up for a home game, cycling through layup lines. My father, all six foot three and two hundred pounds of him, emerged from my high school gym's entrance. He slowly walked onto the basketball court, flailing his long arms to get my attention-and embarrassing me before what we could call the "White judge."
Classic Dad. He couldn't care less what judgmental White people thought about him. He rarely if ever put on a happy mask, faked a calmer voice, hid his opinion, or avoided making a scene. I loved and hated my father for living on his own terms in a world that usually denies Black people their own terms. It was the sort of defiance that could have gotten him lynched by a mob in a different time and place-or lynched by men in badges today.
I jogged over to him before he could flail his way right into our layup lines. Weirdly giddy, he handed me a brown manila envelope.
"This came for you today."
He motioned me to open the envelope, right there at half-court as the White students and teachers looked on.
I pulled out the letter and read it: I had been admitted to Hampton University in southern Virginia. My immediate shock exploded into unspeakable happiness. I embraced Dad and exhaled. Tears mixed with warm-up sweat on my face. The judging White eyes around us faded.
I thought I was stupid, too dumb for college. Of course, intelligence is as subjective as beauty. But I kept using "objective" standards, like test scores and report cards, to judge myself. No wonder I sent out only two college applications: one to Hampton and the other to the institution I ended up attending, Florida A&M University. Fewer applications meant less rejection-and I fully expected those two historically Black universities to reject me. Why would any university want an idiot on their campus who can't understand Shakespeare? It never occurred to me that maybe I wasn't really trying to understand Shakespeare and that's why I dropped out of my English II International Baccalaureate class during my senior year. Then again, I did not read much of anything in those years.
Maybe if I'd read history then, I'd have learned about the historical significance of the new town my family had moved to from New York City in 1997. I would have learned about all those Confederate memorials surrounding me in Manassas, Virginia, like Robert E. Lee's dead army. I would have learned why so many tourists trek to Manassas National Battlefield Park to relive the glory of the Confederate victories at the Battles of Bull Run during the Civil War. It was there that General Thomas J. Jackson acquired his nickname, "Stonewall," for his stubborn defense of the Confederacy. Northern Virginians kept the stonewall intact after all these years. Did anyone notice the irony that at this Martin Luther King Jr. oratorical contest, my free Black life represented Stonewall Jackson High School?
The delightful event organizers from Delta Sigma Theta sorority, the proud dignitaries, and the competitors were all seated on the pulpit. (The group was too large to say we were seated in the pulpit.) The audience sat in rows that curved around the long, arch...
I despised suits and ties. For seventeen years I had been surrounded by suit-wearing, tie-choking, hat-flying church folk. My teenage wardrobe hollered the defiance of a preacher's kid.
It was January 17, 2000. More than three thousand Black people-with a smattering of White folks-arrived that Monday morning in their Sunday best at the Hylton Memorial Chapel in Northern Virginia. My parents arrived in a state of shock. Their floundering son had somehow made it to the final round of the Prince William County Martin Luther King Jr. oratorical contest.
I didn't show up with a white collar under a dark suit and matching dark tie like most of my competitors. I sported a racy golden-brown blazer with a slick black shirt and bright color-streaked tie underneath. The hem of my baggy black slacks crested over my creamy boots. I'd already failed the test of respectability before I opened my mouth, but my parents, Carol and Larry, were all smiles nonetheless. They couldn't remember the last time they saw me wearing a tie and blazer, however loud and crazy.
But it wasn't just my clothes that didn't fit the scene. My competitors were academic prodigies. I wasn't. I carried a GPA lower than 3.0; my SAT score barely cracked 1000. Colleges were recruiting my competitors. I was riding the high of having received surprise admission letters from the two colleges I'd halfheartedly applied to.
A few weeks before, I was on the basketball court with my high school team, warming up for a home game, cycling through layup lines. My father, all six foot three and two hundred pounds of him, emerged from my high school gym's entrance. He slowly walked onto the basketball court, flailing his long arms to get my attention-and embarrassing me before what we could call the "White judge."
Classic Dad. He couldn't care less what judgmental White people thought about him. He rarely if ever put on a happy mask, faked a calmer voice, hid his opinion, or avoided making a scene. I loved and hated my father for living on his own terms in a world that usually denies Black people their own terms. It was the sort of defiance that could have gotten him lynched by a mob in a different time and place-or lynched by men in badges today.
I jogged over to him before he could flail his way right into our layup lines. Weirdly giddy, he handed me a brown manila envelope.
"This came for you today."
He motioned me to open the envelope, right there at half-court as the White students and teachers looked on.
I pulled out the letter and read it: I had been admitted to Hampton University in southern Virginia. My immediate shock exploded into unspeakable happiness. I embraced Dad and exhaled. Tears mixed with warm-up sweat on my face. The judging White eyes around us faded.
I thought I was stupid, too dumb for college. Of course, intelligence is as subjective as beauty. But I kept using "objective" standards, like test scores and report cards, to judge myself. No wonder I sent out only two college applications: one to Hampton and the other to the institution I ended up attending, Florida A&M University. Fewer applications meant less rejection-and I fully expected those two historically Black universities to reject me. Why would any university want an idiot on their campus who can't understand Shakespeare? It never occurred to me that maybe I wasn't really trying to understand Shakespeare and that's why I dropped out of my English II International Baccalaureate class during my senior year. Then again, I did not read much of anything in those years.
Maybe if I'd read history then, I'd have learned about the historical significance of the new town my family had moved to from New York City in 1997. I would have learned about all those Confederate memorials surrounding me in Manassas, Virginia, like Robert E. Lee's dead army. I would have learned why so many tourists trek to Manassas National Battlefield Park to relive the glory of the Confederate victories at the Battles of Bull Run during the Civil War. It was there that General Thomas J. Jackson acquired his nickname, "Stonewall," for his stubborn defense of the Confederacy. Northern Virginians kept the stonewall intact after all these years. Did anyone notice the irony that at this Martin Luther King Jr. oratorical contest, my free Black life represented Stonewall Jackson High School?
The delightful event organizers from Delta Sigma Theta sorority, the proud dignitaries, and the competitors were all seated on the pulpit. (The group was too large to say we were seated in the pulpit.) The audience sat in rows that curved around the long, arch...
