We’re following the lead of people of color. Here’s why you should too.

Four reasons white people should follow BIPOC leaders

By Megan Lietz, Director, Race & Christian Community Initiative (RCCI)

It was one week after the murder of George Floyd. Communities of color were reeling. Newsfeeds were exploding. And white evangelicals, wrestling with expanding worldviews and anxious energy, were asking the well-intended but complicated question: “What can we do?”

I remember a white church reaching out to me to discuss the possibility of them hosting a panel. While their language reflected openness, the event was well underway. “Have you been in communication with Black people or sought their perspective on what they think would be a helpful response?” I asked. The line went quiet. I was rather certain they had not. Because at that point, many of the Black folks I’d spoken with were wrestling deeply with hard emotions and trauma. They had not yet gained clarity on a collective response.

This is one example of how white people can seek to respond to racism without following the leadership of those most impacted. Despite good intentions, white people tend to run ahead and take the lead, taking action that is uninformed, misdirected, and not well received by Black, Indigenous and people of color (BIPOC) communities.

“Despite good intentions, white people tend to run ahead and take the lead, taking action that is uninformed, misdirected, and not well received by BIPOC communities. ”

The Bible sets a different example for us in Acts 6:1-7. Here we see Hellenistic Jews, a part of the ethnic minority within Christianity at the time, speaking up because their widows were being overlooked in the daily food distribution. The disciples, who were of the Hebraic majority, appointed wise and Spirit-filled Hellenists to lead the response to this problem. The dominant group supported the leadership of godly people on the margins as they led the efforts to make things right. The result was the spreading of the gospel and the making of disciples.

As a ministry that seeks to build shalom across racial lines, the Race & Christian Community Initiative (RCCI) has not always followed this biblical example. That’s because we have been shaped by a sin-sick society too. But as we explored in a recent article, we’re pivoting to better align our beliefs with our actions, shifting from being a “leader” to a “follower” of BIPOC leadership.

This article explores why white people are not best suited to take the lead and invites them into a role that better reflects the redemptive power dynamics of God’s kingdom.

Positioning: People of color are best positioned to understand racism and how to respond

People of color are closer to and more experienced with the problem. Not unlike how a person might benefit by speaking to a pastor or counselor who has been through the experience that person is navigating so we should learn from those who have firsthand experience with the problem of racism. People of color are more likely to understand how the oppressive systems of racism work and what the impacted communities need in order to overcome its manifestations.

White people, on the other hand, have not experienced oppression because of the color of their skin. They also tend to lack proximity to those who have this experience. This distance can often contribute to misperceptions, blindspots, and biases.

I often see this play out among my fellow white evangelical brothers and sisters when we seek to address racism through personal discipleship and interpersonal relationships. While of some value, this approach doesn’t address many of the realities that established and continue to uphold racism. People of color tend to address racism through community, organization, and systems-wide approaches that generally have longer-term and broader impact. We need both approaches to nurture shalom in our communities.

RCCI leans heavily into personal discipleship but also has a strong communal element and is learning how to support BIPOC-led efforts that contribute to longer-term and systemic impact.

Because BIPOC communities have struggled against racism for centuries, their history includes resistance and communal wisdom about navigating racism. From assuming interdependence and mutual liberation to community organizing and creatively incorporating resistance into daily life, they have developed principles, practices, and different ways of thinking that have faithfully supported the movement for liberation over the years.

By and large, white folks have not resisted racism throughout history. As a result, they tend to lack the examples, theological frameworks, and imagination to respond to racism most effectively.

One of the most common obstacles I hear from my fellow white evangelical brothers and sisters is that we simply don’t know how to confront racism in our context. We are neither aware of nor know how to navigate pathways for change. The American political and socio-economic system generally works for us as white people. That’s not to say that white people don’t experience challenges, but those challenges are not on account of the color of our skin. As a result, we have not had to learn how to advocate to ensure our own well-being.

Even I, as the leader of RCCI and someone who seeks to actively and intentionally confront racism in my personal life, feel like there are basic processes around how to advocate for racial equity in my community I still don’t know. I, like many white evangelicals, am ignorant and inexperienced in areas many BIPOC folks have had to learn out of necessity.

To be clear, white ignorance and being ill-equipped cannot be an excuse for inaction. We must do our self-work and learn as we go, but we should go forward with BIPOC folks in the lead.

People of color also are not as invested in the status quo because, unlike white people, it’s not designed for them and doesn’t center their needs or experiences. As a result, they may be more likely to resist unjust policies that white folks see as acceptable, personally benefit from, or may not be willing to sacrifice for change.

For example, if the admissions policies and locations of exam schools in Boston are more likely to accept and be accessible to white children, white families will be less likely to advocate for changes. Instead, they may vehemently oppose it! BIPOC families, on the other hand, will be more likely to advocate for change because it’s their children who could be excluded if they don’t. If the status quo works for you, you’ll be less likely to invest the energy and make the sacrifices needed to work toward equity. You’ll protect your advantage instead of ensuring the whole community’s well-being.

Unexamined Socialization: White people are not aware of the profound way their socialization impacts them

Similar to anything we’re immersed in during our upbringing, it’s often hard to see: It’s the water we swim in, the air we breathe. Like any culture, we’ve been socialized to value certain ways of thinking, doing, and being over others.

While cultural preferences are not a problem per se, because we’ve been socialized in a society that values white people over people of color, we often think that white ways are “right,” “normal,” and even normative. This is usually not determined by biblical prescription but by the dominant culture.*

Because our socialization runs deep, we can end up defaulting to our conditioning instead of following in the footsteps of Jesus.

“Because our socialization runs deep, we can end up defaulting to our conditioning instead of following in the footsteps of Jesus.”

For example, I grew up believing meetings that began and ended on time, stuck to the agenda, and achieved pre-determined goals were better than those that did not. When I hosted multiracial workshops, these beliefs impacted my practice. I’d value starting on time over extended fellowship, “getting through the content” over making space for wrestling with questions or hard emotions, and teaching from the facilitators over the stories or perspectives of the group. This didn’t mean I wouldn’t allow such stories or wrestling, but I had to choose to make space for them with intentionality. I did so because of my ideological commitment and training, but deep down, I’d feel anxious. I’d be concerned that if we pressed in too much, we wouldn’t get to the “more important” content, and “my” gathering or leadership wouldn’t be seen as a “success.”

Through direct and indirect feedback, I saw my posture and approach contributed to some people of color feeling they didn’t have the space to engage fully and authentically. I had to work — and continue to work — to hold my conditioning and its value in tension with flexibility, being present with others, and caring for the holistic needs of the group. Though doing the latter is something I feel less comfortable and experienced with, I continue to see how Jesus modeled and uses these practices to nurture his transformation.

Limitations: The leadership and presence of white people naturally create limitations to engaging across racial lines

Due to their socialization in the dominant culture, white folks often have deeply rooted mental models that shape their cultural understanding of what’s “right.” As a result, they can uphold the dominant culture in ways that constrict space for BIPOC folks who do not conform to or feel at home in these spaces. This is true regardless of their awareness or good intent.

Even if a white person tries hard to develop trusting relationships and create space for genuine collaboration, barriers remain. Because white folks are seen not only as individuals but also as a representative of their racial group, their very presence can trigger undesirable emotions, bring to mind personal and communal histories, and enact power-laden patterns of behavior to which both white folks and people of color default. These are not the patterns Jesus desires for us. They are the fruit of a sin-sick world.

When I first started RCCI, I would host and initiate multiracial events to cultivate constructive conversations and nurture multiracial community. I learned, however, that even if I invited people of color to shape the vision and collaborate early on, I held power that functioned to preserve my vision because I convened the meetings and offered the initial ideas.

While people of color did speak into an event’s vision or agenda, they tended to offer suggestions that adjusted or developed my ideas. Despite my explicit invitation to make the events their own, they tended not to operate outside of the framework I provided. I believe this wasn’t because they always agreed with me, but because my own postures, practices, and processes did not invite them to express dissent. Perhaps it was because I didn’t invest the time to develop trust in the way I could have. Perhaps it was because I assumed — and inevitably projected — that my ideas, shaped by my mental models and experiences as a white woman, were exciting and effective across racial lines. Perhaps it was because I shied away from asking hard questions or creating space for real conflict. Or maybe, people of color simply found challenging me not worth the energy it could take them to help me understand.

Not only were the gatherings confined by my initiation, leadership, and vision, but the conversations were limited as well. Now, I’m not saying the discussions were not rich and meaningful: I remember people asking bold questions! But the conversations were not as deep as they could have been had I not been facilitating.

In a multiracial space, especially a white-led multiracial space, people of color might not feel they have the safety or support to “go there.” Without status-quo-challenging BIPOC leaders facilitating and having full authority, which may not be possible under white leadership, people of color may be less likely to take risks, speak truth, and offer perspectives that can help us all eliminate white supremacy. When people of color are in the lead, or even the conveners and hosts, this dynamic can shift and create more spaciousness for BIPOC communities.

Kingdom Reality: Modeling power dynamics of the kingdom

Most importantly, when white folks follow BIPOC leadership, it models the power dynamics of the kingdom. God created each of us in his image (Gen. 1:27) and intended for us to be in right relationship with one another. He created us as members of an interdependent body (1 Cor. 12:12-26) with equal value and standing before him. We are to interact with mutuality and respect that honors the image of God in each person and each ethno-racial community.

When white folks follow BIPOC leadership, they are taking a step to correct an unjust and human-made hierarchy. They’re choosing to live into ways of being that can work to restore the equal power dynamics the Lord intends.

“When white folks follow BIPOC leadership, we’re taking a step to correct an unjust and human-made hierarchy. We’re choosing to live into ways of being that can work to restore the equal power dynamics the Lord intends.”

Living into these redemptive power dynamics is hard. Society does not teach or equip white people how to do this. People’s imaginations are small and their experiences are smaller.

RCCI desires to nurture multiracial community that can model redemptive power dynamics and — through kingdom ways of being — work together to build shalom across racial lines. We are committed to learning how to do this and to creating pathways and resources so others can do the same.
For more information, check out our homepage or connect with Megan to hear more about RCCI’s journey and how we might be able to support you.

How these dynamics can play out in real life

I would like to share a story that offers examples of when I did and didn’t follow BIPOC leadership, illustrating some of the dynamics mentioned above. I hope the Lord might use it to speak and inspire his kingdom reality.

I remember the excitement I felt when I received an email about a Christian conference highlighting justice, mercy, and humility. I eagerly clicked through the website to explore the topics addressed. I was disappointed that the conference, led by a predominantly white organization in 2016, did not seem to address racial justice. I expressed my disappointment to the event organizers and shared how I felt this negatively impacted the witness of the church. Though I don’t believe any changes were made at the time, the event organizers invited me to lead a workshop on racial justice the following year.

I was pumped. As a young woman and the new program director of RCCI, this felt like a great opportunity. I enlisted a good friend and woman of color to develop the workshop and lead with me. We put lots of time and energy into preparing, but at the end, I felt like our presentation was one of my most successful flops.

Due largely to my influence, we designed a lecture-style presentation. It focused on conferring knowledge and centered the experiences of the people at the front of the room. While this may have been more appropriate for the large crowd the organizers told us to expect, it fell flat before the dozen or so practitioners who actually attended. In retrospect, it should have been more interactive, more relational, more honoring of the other experiences in the room, and more engaging of heart, body, and spirit.

The following year, I was informed that the same conference was now taking applications for workshops to fill a limited number of spots. I reached out to those who had led race-related workshops the previous year so we could ensure racial justice was represented.

A Black leader replied, saying he had an idea for a multiracial panel, but he did not have the bandwidth to coordinate it on his own. Instead of submitting my own proposal, I chose to support this leader’s vision by helping complete the application, being a liaison between him and the conference coordinators, and addressing logistics on the ground. In the end, the panel was a success. It convened a group of practitioners who had been laboring together for over 15 years and allowed them to reflect on how racial reconciliation movements had changed over time. Each panelist shared their unique stories and perspectives in ways that interacted with one another and the audience. The panel was followed by an informal lunchtime discussion where participants could ask questions and go deeper.

Upon further reflection, I noticed that the approach in my own workshop reflected the dominant patterns and pitfalls I’d seen in much of my white-evangelical education. However, the postures and practices in the BIPOC-led workshop seemed more transformative and appropriate in that context. As I opened myself to a different expression of the body of Christ, I learned how to better invite folks into ways of being and learning that nurture the kingdom of God.

As I continue in the ministry of racial reconciliation, I’m committed to following the leadership of godly people of color. In practice, this is easier said than done. The process of learning how to follow BIPOC leadership is challenging and time-consuming. It takes a relentless examination of my socialization, reflection on how my actions are functioning, and honesty about where I’m defaulting to my cultural conditioning when it doesn’t uphold the ways of God. I don’t always have the mindfulness or energy. Too often, I jump into engaging race-related issues in the lead. But by God’s grace, I’m learning to do differently. I’m learning to be differently.

God is our healer and the one who brings about change. May we follow him and those best positioned to lead his work of healing and justice. I hope you’ll reflect on the reasons we’ve offered for following the leadership of people of color and consider doing the same.

* In A Many Colored Kingdom (pp. 134-142), Gary Parrett talks about how the Bible celebrates, connects with, challenges, or condemns culture. While there are some things the Bible celebrates that we should strive for, and others that it challenges or condemns that we should question or avoid, much of our culture today is not directly addressed in Scripture. There are connections between now and then, but what people should eat on Thanksgiving or the best way to preach a sermon, or the type of music that should be played Sunday morning are simply not addressed in Scripture. As a result, we should not ascribe an unbending moral value to those things Scripture leaves open for cultural conditioning. The Bible should be our guide, however, for the practices about which morality is clear.

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