“As we go about our daily lives, caste is the wordless usher in a darkened theater, flashlight cast down in the aisles, guiding us to our assigned seats for a performance. The hierarchy of caste is not about feelings or morality. It is about power—which groups have it and which do not.”
Isabel Wilkerson has written an important book. Long-listed for some awards, and short-listed for others, it was named the #1 Non-Fiction Book of 2020 by Time magazine, and Oprah Winfrey chose it for her book club.
Despite all that, not everyone will read it.
Everyone should.
Wilkerson, a Pulitzer-prize winning author and journalist has written a powerful, disturbing, and heartbreaking account of the American caste system. I know there are people who hear the word “caste” and think, not here! Or that’s only in India or other places. Wilkerson, through impeccable research of caste systems in India and Germany easily proves that a caste system is fully alive in America. Her book gains more credence as she weaves in stories and examples of our caste system at work. Like the time when a little league team went to a public pool to celebrate their win and the one black child on the team was not allowed in the pool and was relegated to eating his lunch on a blanket outside the fenced area. When his coaches pleaded with the lifeguard to let him in, the cleared the pool of everyone, and placed him on a raft, while one lifeguard pushed him around the pool repeatedly saying, “Don’t touch the water. Just don’t touch the water.” It’s no surprise a teammate recalled this incident saying the boy was never the same after that outing.
As hard as it is to read these stories, it’s imperative we do; especially if we have had the privilege of being born to the dominant caste. It’s our role to dismantle the confines of our caste system, rewrite policy, open doors, extend the seats at the table to everyone.
Wilkerson writes:
“In our era, it is not enough to be tolerant. You tolerate mosquitoes in the summer, a rattle in an engine, the gray slush that collects at the crosswalk in winter. You tolerate what you would rather not have to deal with and wish would go away. It is no honor to be tolerated. Every spiritual tradition says love your neighbor as yourself, not tolerate them.”
I couldn’t agree with that sentiment more. I have never felt good about the idea of tolerating another person. We need to connect, understand, respect, and support one another. And while we need more empathy, it’s not the cure-all to eliminating this struggle for power that has been ingrained for centuries.
“Empathy is no substitute for the experience itself. We don’t get to tell a person with a broken leg or a bullet wound that they are not in pain. And people who have hit the caste lottery are not in a position to tell a person who has suffered under the tyranny of caste what is offensive or hurtful or demeaning to those at the bottom. The price of privilege is the moral duty to act when one sees another person treated unfairly. And the least that a person in the dominant caste can do is not make the pain any worse.”
I believe that all of us in the dominant caste have a responsibility to make the world better for everyone, not just those who look like us. One way to start is by understanding how we got here. Wilkerson’s book is a great place to start.