When one learns of the field “Critical Whiteness Studies,” it’s natural to feel confusion and perhaps even discomfort. While this label might prompt one to believe that its field of study centers on White individuals and culture, this would be a mischaracterization. Instead, CWS analyzes the systems that create and uphold White supremacy. In most cases, the core ideas of CWS appear in tandem with conversations about race and ethnicity.
Given the importance of addressing institutional racism in order to achieve social justice, it might seem useful to have academics engage with the topic of White supremacy in a standalone manner. After all, this singular focus could highlight the structures of racism that are often ignored or dismissed in academia. However, the academic institutions’ de-emphasis on CWS in favor of the broader field of ethnic studies is a step toward more inclusive, critical conversations. This shift allows for increased attention toward the historical and current challenges faced by silenced and marginalized ethno-racial groups.
What is Critical Whiteness Studies?
Critical Whiteness Studies gained prominence in the 1990s, emerging as a critical examination of race that moved beyond traditional frameworks. Whereas earlier approaches, such as primordialism, understand race as a biological category found in nature, CWS argues race is a social construct. On the one hand, the former commits to a view of race as independent of cultural contexts and inherent to humans. The latter is a radical departure from this view. For the constructivist, race is contingent on historical and cultural contexts because it is an artificial categorization. The chief focus of CWS is this construction and the implications of Whiteness as a social category; the field scrutinizes how Whiteness functions as a normative, and often invisible, identity.
One aspect of CWS centers on the acknowledgement of White privilege; however, scholars’ approaches vary. Some approaches challenge societal norms and urge for a reevaluation of the role of Whiteness in shaping individual and collective identities. One early work was authored by Berkeley Law professor Ian Haney Lopez, a pioneer in the field, called “White by Law: The Legal Construction of Race.” In the text, Haney Lopez proposes that White individuals should renounce their racial identity in the interest of social justice. While this seems to imply the erasure of personal identity, it’s crucial to dispel this common misinterpretation of Haney Lopez’s work. By advocating for the renunciation of Whiteness, Haney Lopez does not call for individuals to sever ties with their ethnic heritages, such as being Italian or Irish. Instead, his focus is on dismantling the historical and structural foundations upon which Whiteness is viewed as superior to other races. In particular, he argues that individuals should oppose the systemic othering of racial minorities and recognize that the construction of a White race has ties to discriminatory practices.
Such instances of discrimination are prominent in U.S. immigration law: In his work, Haney Lopez discusses a series of cases from 1878 to 1952 that required immigrants to be “free White persons” to naturalize. He writes, “Applicants from Hawaii, China, Japan, Burma, and the Philippines, as well as all mixed-race applicants, failed in their arguments. Conversely, courts ruled that applicants from Mexico and Armenia were ‘white,’ but vacillated over the Whiteness of petitioners from Syria, India, and Arabia.”
By deciding who did, and who did not, count as White, courts actively participated in racial construction. At their core, these cases point to the inherent ambiguities and imprecisions that accompany attempts to categorize groups into racial binaries: White or nonwhite. In reviewing cases, courts deliberately applied contradictory rationales to deny the naturalization of most immigrants. Recognizing the origins of such claims to Whiteness among some groups and not others, Haney Lopez argues, is more important than erasing one’s connections to any particular White ethnicity.
In an interview with the Harvard Political Review, professor Américo Mendoza–Mori, a lecturer in Latinx studies from Harvard’s Ethnicity, Migration, Rights department, illustrates a similar way of thinking about CWS.
She explained to the Harvard Political Review that the field of Critical Whiteness Studies “doesn’t focus specifically on White individuals, but the effects of a narrative-creating a hierarchy and reflecting on the factors that created it … We can think of coloniality, we can think of slavery, we can think of different gaps that foster inequality that are rooted in concrete aspects that didn’t happen just in an instantaneous way. It’s part of this, let’s say, historical legacy.”
Rather than centering on the individual, the ultimate aim of CWS is to grapple with the realities of racism and discrimination. It investigates the legacy that privileged White populations in the first place. CWS is a valuable approach because it allows White individuals to understand that discussions of racism are not intended to attack them personally, allowing for more productive antiracist conversations which emphasize the roles of history and institutions.
How is CWS Relevant Today?
To understand the significance and contemporary relevance of CWS, it’s crucial to situate the field within the broader socio-political landscape of the United States. For one, people of color have increased political visibility since CWS’ peak, as demonstrated by the ascent of high-profile political figures such as Barack Obama, Kamala Harris, and Ketanji Brown Jackson. Some might perceive these milestones, alongside racial justice movements like Black Lives Matter, as indicators of progress — as departures from the deeply entrenched roots of White supremacy.
However, this optimism can lead to a dangerous oversight: a form of colorblindness that denies or trivializes the ongoing struggles of various ethno-racial communities. Colorblindness, in this context, refers to the tendency to disregard or deny the existence of racism by asserting that one does not “see” race. While seemingly well-intentioned, this approach inadvertently erases the experiences of racialized individuals and fosters an environment where systemic issues go unaddressed. Therefore, milestones, while undoubtedly historic, should not be misconstrued as marking a definitive end to racial inequality. The danger lies in assuming that the nation has overcome its deeply rooted racial issues, subsequently fostering a narrative that dismisses the experiences of marginalized communities.
The connection between CWS and this evolving socio-political landscape is evident. Without proper examinations of privilege and race, colorblind attitudes could offset antiracist efforts. Therefore, one must inquire how the ideas of CWS and its efforts to acknowledge privilege translate to today’s college classrooms.
Placing CWS in Conversation with Other Disciplines
Within the Harvard community, it’s not uncommon to hear discussions on topics such as privilege, slavery, and colonization. However, we don’t typically consider these to be in service of the resurrection of a dying CWS field. Nonetheless, just because we don’t recognize the technical label anymore doesn’t mean conversations on these topics have also stopped in academia. In reality, the ideas from CWS appear in connection to other disciplines, such as ethnic and decolonial studies, both of which are gaining attention.
In an interview with the HPR, Dr. Jorge Sánchez Cruz, a lecturer in Harvard’s History and Literature department, commented on his work teaching decolonial topics. He first defined decolonial studies as a foreground to how colonial histories have oppressed groups, specifically Indigenous groups. Then he expressed what questions guide his pedagogy, explaining, “When I teach decolonial courses I emphasize: How do we grapple or how do we bring it into conversation with Indigenous philosophies, histories, and theories?”
Moreover, he expressed decolonial study’s role in rethinking “the idea of nation citizenship, geographies, peace, and identity from underrepresented histories.” Sánchez Cruz highlights that instead of seeking to destroy the Western canon and White ideological histories, decolonial studies put diverse thoughts in conversation with each other. In his view, “They have different worldviews and different conceptions of being, humanity, and of man, but they’re in relation.”
Sánchez Cruz believes that understanding these canons ultimately allows for the application of a decolonial lens. It’s not meant to destroy European culture. “That would be counterproductive or contradictory because then we’d be implementing the same logic of erasure the other side implements,” he explained to the HPR.
Evidently, the discussions about privilege and power that take root in CWS translate into other disciplines. However, unlike CWS, ethnic studies places marginalized groups at the center of the conversation. This amplifies the voices of underrepresented populations, allowing inclusive, critical conversations about systemic racism and furthering progress for antiracist efforts.
Another scholar, California State University, Monterey Bay Professor Emerita Christine Sleeter, worries about conversations that prioritize White identity and sideline the struggles of other ethno-racial groups. In an interview with the Harvard Political Review, Sleeter reflected on her experiences as an active instructor and her journey grappling with her White privilege. Recalling conversations with previous White students on identity, she noted that “The main concern is that there’s a tendency for White people to want to focus on White people. You can do that, I guess, productively as a part of struggles against racism as long as you know you’re doing it and don’t get too into focusing on yourself … To think of Whiteness studies as being an entity in itself, disconnected from its legacy, makes actual connection with the work of people of color really limited.”
While CWS can be “a way of opening the door for White people who want to engage with ethnic studies,” Sleeter agrees that the focus of conversations should remain on tackling racism and the experiences of underrepresented communities.
By analyzing the systems that oppress racial groups while also exploring the histories of resistance and resilience across different communities, conversations can become more hopeful. To avoid losing sight of the larger issues at hand — such as the increasing gaps in living standards across communities — conversations on privilege, oppression, and coloniality should intersect with diverse fields of thought. Instead of viewing these conversations as assaults on individual identity, one should listen to those who continue hurting. After all, understanding and empathy make way for healing.
Looking Toward the Horizon: The Future of Ethnic Studies
While CWS offers key frameworks to question the legacies of oppression, the shift in focus from White-centered conversations to marginalized ethnic and racial groups benefits antiracist movements. Recognizing the benefits of having these conversations and teaching ethnic studies in classrooms is one thing; executing this feat in the face of oppressive systems is another. When considering the future of ethnic studies, Sleeter told the HPR that “There’s going to be another wave of attacks because anything that challenges power in the U.S. does get attacked, and ethnic studies is about challenging power.”
She also described a mixed vision for the future of ethnic studies. On the one hand, Sleeter doesn’t think that “ethnic studies is going to go away” and she celebrates milestones in its integration across school curricula. At the same time, she thinks that there will be a “push and pull because it does challenge power.” One concern is that, in becoming a requirement in educational systems receiving state funding, the state will “water down or trim out some of the more radical pieces” that might accompany courses. Despite the triumphs, one should remain wary of not becoming content too quickly regarding progress. Certainly, one should be able to admire progress, while not allowing that admiration to blind them from the reality that there is still work to be done.
Sánchez Cruz explains how students and those interested in fighting inequality can approach these challenges: “Everyone regardless of their origin, ethnic identity, or sexual orientation, has experienced some sort of loss …We all have felt that in some way or another, so perhaps that can be a coalition of practice between different populations,” Sánchez Cruz shared.
Indeed, by developing a sense of understanding for a shared experience, communities can find it less difficult to empathize with one another. Similarly, Dr. Mendoza-Mori proposed to the HPR that “keeping that balance of empathy and an active search for new perspectives could be great tools for advancing society with constructive mechanisms.”
When we listen and care about the vibrancy of communities that differ from our own — not just as passing thoughts, but with genuine curiosity and commitments to research — empathy can guide us toward a more loving future. We can allow others to be their authentic selves by appreciating their languages, respecting their culture, and listening to their histories. Through this, a more democratic, just, understanding society will be created — one from which we will all benefit.
