Dismantling Perfectionism & White Supremacy
Photo by Quinn Corte, 2021.
Listen to an audio reading of this post (23 minutes):
About this Series
Hi, I’m Quinn (she/her). This is part of a series for white allies called Anti-Racism & Collective Care. I hope to use my white, cisgender, able-bodied privilege to support and uplift marginalized people who have been systematically excluded from and underestimated in wellness spaces due to race, gender identity, class, ability, body type, sexual orientation, or other identities.
I am not an anti-racism educator. I am doing this work alongside you, and certainly don’t have answers. Instead, I humbly share stories, questions, resources, and concepts that have shaped my journey. With this series, I aim to raise awareness and invite conversation into the wellness world.
If you identify as a Black, Indigenous, or a Person of Color (BIPOC) and/or have experienced exclusion and oppression due to your identity, I invite you to skip this post and tend to your own needs or enjoy a free resource in our library. This series is geared to those in our community who benefit from white privilege and want to dismantle it. Reading it may add to your emotional labor. That said, please reach out to me if you have feedback to share.
Perfectionism almost stopped me from writing this series.
I’m relatively new to anti-racism work, and I’m not a full-time activist or educator. I don’t presume to have any of the answers for this complex, urgent, sensitive arena (in fact, the further I dive in, the more questions I have). I don’t want to cause further harm by centering my own, privileged experience. Who am I to speak up? What if I say something wrong?
In conversations with other white allies, I’ve heard people share the same barrier to doing more anti-racism work: “I don’t show up or speak up because I’m scared of doing something wrong.”
I get it. I’ve been there. Mistakes are hard. It feels awful to inadvertently hurt someone’s feelings or cause harm—especially when you’re trying to help.
But on the other hand, we want to show up. We need to show up. We know the urgency and severity of this crisis, and we are aware of our privilege. We want to learn, to get better at this, and to find ways to dismantle white supremacy that are in alignment with our capacity and skills.
Hopefully we all know that the impact of not engaging with this work is exponentially more harmful than the discomfort and fallout from any of our mistakes. That is exactly the sentiment behind this post: I will not let perfectionism keep me from talking about racism.
In this series, I will continue to share how I am coming to understand and (imperfectly) dismantle this perfectionism—especially in the context of anti-racism and anti-oppression work. As with everything I share, please take it or leave it—you know what resonates best for you.
Perfectionism & white supremacy
One of the most impactful things I’ve read in the last year is this text called “White Supremacist Culture—Still Here,” by Tema Okun (see page 8). I have returned to it again and again, and the realizations have changed how I view the world, the workplace, and my relationship with myself. Okun’s text has shown me that the foundational characteristics of white supremacy (like urgency, fear, competition, and individualism) are exactly what prevent us from dismantling it. It also provides a cultural framework that explains why we are so scared to make mistakes.
Perfectionism is a characteristic of white supremacist culture. White supremacy wants to keep powerful people in power. It wants to keep the rest of us small, quiet, and scared to speak out of turn or step outside the box. It feeds on our insecurities and breeds individualism. In this culture, we are encouraged to feel alone in our insufficiencies, to place traditional success on a pedestal, and to stay consumed with our own struggle to get to the top—even if that means ignoring those who are suffering.
Furthermore, perfectionism upholds white supremacist culture. Fear of making mistakes prevents us from showing up to challenge the status quo, which sustains its power. It keeps people with privilege so worried about doing something wrong that we often do nothing. Perfectionism is a perfect mindset for keeping white supremacy alive.
What does being perfect mean to you? I see it as a constantly changing ideal that—by definition—is very far away from who I am in this moment. I see perfection as very inhuman—a perfect person is one who doesn’t make mistakes or rock the boat, is everything to everyone, fits a really traditional American ideal of success, and doesn’t have a body or feelings to slow them down. Like white supremacy, the idea of perfectionism is inherently dehumanizing.
In this excellent essay about enoughness, author Rainesford Stauffer discusses how structural deficiencies have been internalized as personal. “The higher the standards, the cost of living, and the expectations climb, the harder we try to chase them. Then, rather than these things being framed as structural crises, we internalize them as individual failings.”
Stauffer goes on to ask, “What would happen if everyone had the resources they needed, and didn't feel compelled to meet impossible demands? What if we were untethered from the idea that there's a perfect version of ourselves at all—what if we didn't just embrace not meeting impossible standards, but dismantled them altogether?”
It’s time to bury the idea that there is a “perfect” way to be. Instead—let’s be humans, together.
How anti-racism work triggers perfectionism
In addition to our white supremacist culture trying to keep us small and quiet, our brains are also trying to protect us.
It’s the amygdala’s job to keep us safe from danger. It’s wired to scan our environment for threats and signal the body to respond. The amygdala is so good at keeping us safe that it even registers risk-taking and hard conversations as threatening. Our sympathetic nervous system is constantly activated, causing our heart rate to increase and our body to prepare to fight, flee, or freeze.
The brain doesn’t want us to grow or be brave. It hates discomfort, change, and mistakes, and will often get very, very loud to prevent us from speaking up or stepping out. It will even engage our body in its defenses—making us feel tense and anxious whenever we face something that is emotionally challenging.
This is why perfectionism shows up tenfold when we are doing anti-oppression work, which is inherently uncomfortable. Examining our own privilege and bias can bring up major discomfort. Listening to how we may be complicit in causing inadvertent harm is painful. Learning devastating realities that we might have had the luxury of ignoring is both critical and very confronting.
The amygdala might take our uncomfortable anti-racism lessons and encounters, and respond by…freaking out. Here’s how this might show up:
Fight - Getting defensive when we make a mistake.
Flight - Bypassing the reality of what’s happening and going about business as usual.
Freeze - Becoming overwhelmed by all the injustices, and doing nothing.
The Retreat Space is full of techniques for managing these stress responses, but this post is focused specifically on the process and mindset around making more mistakes as we fight oppression.
Mindful self-compassion
How can recovering people pleasers and perfectionists start to be part of the solution?
I believe we start by practicing mindful self-compassion—meeting our negative thoughts and mistakes without judgement.
When we notice ourselves slipping into fight/flight/freeze mode, we can pause and name what’s happening. With perfectionism, I try to acknowledge that my brain is trying to keep me safe. I go through an inner process of reassuring the part of me that’s scared of failing or discomfort. I often say, “it’s OK, I’ve got this,” as I consciously slow my breath down. Sometimes I literally say, “no, thank you” to my brain’s advice to stay home or be quiet. This puts me back in control, without shaming myself for experiencing normal human feelings.
Here’s one way this might play out in my head during anti-racism work—
Brain: “But what if I say something wrong?”
Self: “I’ll be open to the feedback, correct my mistake, be relentlessly kind to myself, learn from it, ask for support if I need it, and move on. Most importantly, I’ll be brave and keep showing up.”
You can even try journaling out your fears in this question-and-answer format to cultivate courage. Write down what you’re afraid of. In response, ask how the kindest, bravest part of you might respond to that fear. If that part of you is too hard to access, you can try answering in the voice of a loved one.
We can hold space for our fear as we join the fight, the conversation, and the revolution.
Similarly, when we are tuned in, we will know when it isn’t the right time to stretch ourselves. Our inner capacity for doing hard things will ebb and flow, signaling our own organic pace.
Expecting mistakes
As white allies, we listen and learn in hopes of reducing the amount of unintentional harm we cause. We won’t be able to eliminate harm. Throughout all aspects of our lives and our anti-racism work (eventually these become intertwined), we need to remember that we will make mistakes, and sometimes our mistakes will hurt people. This can’t be avoided—it’s part of growth. Just as meditation is about learning to coexist with negative thoughts rather than getting rid of them, our task here is to try and reduce harm rather than eliminating it.
So, let’s go in to this new era expecting mistakes and embracing them as opportunities.
When we make mistakes related to race and oppression, it’s really important to remember that the impact of our actions matters more than our intent. After hurting someone, we may hurry to tell them that we didn’t mean to hurt them. We may have the urge to explain ourselves and set the record straight. In doing so, we minimize their experience and center our own experience. In mistakes related to anti-oppression work, having a defensive reaction may further diminish someone who was already marginalized and it may re-center our own privilege as being more important than their hurt.
If you are reading this, it’s unlikely that you are going to intentionally cause harm. It’s much more likely that you will hurt someone’s feelings by accident. So when we do cause harm, it’s important to acknowledge the other person’s pain and apologize for the impact of our actions, no matter our intent.
Above all else, we must honor the humanity and the experience of the other person, even if we don’t understand where they’re coming from. We’re all beautifully messy humans with different traumas, bodies, backgrounds, and feelings. This means that we experience events in a different way. When two people from different backgrounds hear the same statement, one person may be enraged and the other might not think twice about it. This doesn’t mean the first person is overreacting; it’s likely a valid response that deserves to be witnessed and addressed. We mustn’t invalidate different responses as emotional or overly sensitive. Instead, let’s open our minds and our hearts, and deeply listen so we can better understand and support them.
Repairing mistakes
Here are some suggestions for how to repair conflict or apologize for mistakes. I also highly recommend this 17-minute NPR podcast episode about how to apologize.
{Remember that each situation and person is unique. Above anything I say, be sure to lead with compassion and follow your own knowing and organic process.}
When you hurt someone, pause. Pause. Pause. Pause. Don’t react right away.
Take a few slow breaths. If you’re in a live conversation, check in to see if you’re able to remain present for a difficult conversation. Honor yourself if you need to step away for a bit. If you aren’t in a real-time interaction, take some time to digest before responding.
As soon as possible, acknowledge the other person’s feelings in a way that feels appropriate and authentic. Don’t bypass their experience, even if you don’t understand it.
“Thank you for sharing this with me.”
“I hear you / see you / feel you.”
“I appreciate your openness / bravery.”
“I can see why you feel this way.”
Ask clarifying questions. Try to understand the other person’s point of view, instead of asserting your side.
Apologize during that initial conversation, if it feels appropriate and authentic.
If you like, you can say you will follow up after you’ve had time to process.
After the initial communication, take some time. At first you may need to regulate your breathing and let your emotions run their course. Notice what’s coming up for you. Reflect with a professional processor (like a therapist) or a friend. [If you’re a white person processing feelings related to race, it’s best to do this with another white person so you don’t add to the emotional labor of your friend of Color.] You may also want to research what is behind the person’s complaint to learn more about your mistake or the other person’s point of view.
If appropriate, circle back to respond and/or apologize more fully and thoughtfully when you’re ready. Take responsibility for the harm you caused without explaining your intent or making it all about you. Be brief and direct, and then ask if there’s anything else the other person would like to share. Remember that it’s your job to bring this up again and make amends; not theirs.
If there’s a lesson to be learned, take time to integrate it. Try to do better next time (and even better the next time).
If, after reflection, the “mistake” doesn’t resonate as something you did wrong, you can decide to let it go, forgo the apology, or have a follow-up conversation. Being in a position of privilege doesn’t mean you should throw out your discernment and boundaries, or open yourself up to projections or shaming.
Move forward, and keep showing up. Don’t let the incident paralyze you, silence you, or stop you. Instead, let it make you stronger and smarter. Talk about it. Transparency and vulnerability help rebuild trust and strength.
Keep in mind: your mistake-making process doesn’t have to be perfect either. Be patient and kind with yourself if you don’t react well at first. This takes practice.
The best allies are open to feedback and constantly learning. They are the ones who transmute their mistakes into learning opportunities. Bravery is a muscle—we have to strengthen it over time.
Dismantling perfectionism
As Tema Okun says, “We can be perfectionist in our social justice circles when we assume or believe there is a perfect way to do something….We might be fighting power out in the world but when we are perfectionist about how we do that, we preserve a toxic power structure internally.”
Perfectionism is one of the structures holding up the falsehoods of white supremacy. As we work to dismantle our inner perfectionism, we’re also chipping away at the collective power that white supremacy has over our culture.
Similarly, when we don’t put pressure on ourselves to be perfect, we divest our collective power from a harmful system. Instead of freezing up or hiding, we take action and express ourselves. Instead of being stuck in this broken system together, our individual steps forward add up to make big change.
As we work to divest from a culture of perfectionism, I highly recommend reading the brief section on antidotes to perfectionism in Tema Okun’s essay (page 10). She reminds us that focusing on our own shortcomings detracts from the issues at hand, and believing there is one right way to do something stifles creative solutions. Meanwhile, she empowers us to “separate the person from the mistake,” and “develop a culture of appreciation” where “the stated expectation is that everyone will make mistakes and those mistakes offer opportunities for learning.”
I’m fascinated with the idea that we can battle both our perfectionism and white supremacy in the same, brave breath. Both of these tasks are ongoing, lifelong processes with no finish line. We can take action toward a better world at the same time as we do this inner work. It will require both gentleness and fierceness.
What if we practiced being more human, more compassionate, and more vulnerable through our work as allies?
What if we practiced being braver and gentler with ourselves in service of creating a better world?
This is exactly why I created The Retreat Space. Let’s practice together.
Resources that informed this essay
Tema Okun’s article White Supremacy Culture—Still Here (perfectionism: page 8-12) [long read]
Rainesford Stauffer’s essay Why Do We Never Feel Like Enough? [quick read]
NPR Life Kit’s podcast episode You’re Probably Apologizing All Wrong [17 min]
Katie Kurtz’s 6-week training Cultivate: Trauma-Informed Space Holding (note: this is not anti-racism training) [in-depth course]
Hollaback’s Bystander Intervention Trainings [1 hour each]
Kristin Neff and Christopher Germer’s book The Mindful Self-Compassion Workbook [long read]
Jamie Utt’s essay Intent v. Impact: Why Your Intentions Don’t Really Matter [quick read]
Michelle Rial’s illustration about success and failure [image]
P.S. I’m a strong believer in citing all sources and influences, and have done so when I’m aware of them. If my words call someone else’s work to mind, I invite you to share it with me.