A Halloween Scare

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Today is Halloween. It’s scary to imagine the ghosts that have surrounded us since birth. I’m not referencing zombies, flying spirits, or the vampires responsible for childhood nightmares.

The ghosts of white supremacy, patriarchy, and religious hypocrisy are real.

Emile Suotonye DeWeaver’s book, Ghost in the Criminal Justice System: Reform, White Supremacy, and an Abolitionist Future, is a game-changer. Each chapter challenges common perceptions of structural oppression and imagines a society built on compassion and justice. DeWeaver dissects white supremacy and offers readers a critical outlook on the people and systems that maintain power in the United States.

For example, we often think of white supremacy as synonymous with racism. The term captures the individual acts and systemic oppression that stem from topical differences in human bodies. Despite our understanding of race as a social and historical construct, DeWeaver beckons us to erase the dominant narratives that paint race as a black and white problem.  

Conversations about race and racism rarely feature the voices of marginalized people who fall along the racial and gender spectrum. We often hear comments about “the white man” without acknowledging the multiple layers of oppressive structures. These views represent a shortcoming in our ability to listen and recognize the nuances of power and injustices.

It is much more complicated than a single person or group identifying as white. “The white man” is not the problem. We must think beyond the construct of identity and analyze the system that enables groups to obtain far-reaching socio-economic and political powers.

Emile Suotonye DeWeaver argues that Christians, police officers, people of color, yes, including Black radicals and activists, act as agents of white supremacy.

He defines white supremacy as “A way of thinking about power-who should have it and how they should use it. It’s also the culture that evolved from the belief in some men’s moral right to subjugate people.”

Through reinforcing ideas and performing actions, some members of our community assume positions that support structural inequalities. They whisper white supremacy and shout for individuals to assume personal responsibility for their actions. The refusal to acknowledge the structures surrounding us that make poor choices attractive is rampant.

Not all, but several of the most outspoken, religious, and justice-oriented individuals in our society blame the perpetrators and victims of crimes. They acknowledge oppression and recognize how it fosters limited choices, but remain complacent in advocating for change.

We need people willing to speak and do the necessary work to bring about structural shifts in policies, laws, and the economy.

These leaders with collective visions must identify problems and work with others toward solutions. 

On page 89, DeWeaver asks, “What’s the goal of the work you’re doing, and how does that goal redistribute power from those who’ve misused or stolen power to the people you serve? If you could repeat your work over successive iterations, can you see how the outcomes could accumulate in a way that makes the current power structure unsustainable?” With these questions, he’s prompting us to examine how our work contributes to creating an equitable and justice-oriented world.

If our work maintains and reinforces the status quo, we are supporting a system that restricts liberation. Our position is difficult to accept, and doing so breeds a narrative of helplessness.

However, we have the power to change.

In the final chapter of Emile Suotonye DeWeaver's book, he quotes Grace Lee Boggs. He writes, "Transform yourself and transform the world." The phrase suggests that small shifts can yield scalable outcomes.

One example DeWeaver offers is the decision to use "Incarcerated Americans," instead of "prisoners, convicts, felons, offenders, and inmates."  Communication strategies can ignite the process of reframing our perceptions of incarcerated Americans and others inside the criminal justice system.

It’s scary.

Some of the ideas in DeWeaver’s book haunted me this week as I tried to answer questions about my personal and professional responsibilities. The ghosts he describes live in our homes, work in our schools, occupy adjacent offices, and serve various roles in our communities.

White supremacists don’t always announce themselves by whispering, “boo,” or yelling racial slurs. They hide in various human forms and push structural inequalities across multiple spheres. 

Here’s the difficult question. Could white supremacy dwell within us?

On this Halloween, I don’t need to watch horror films with fictional villains while the children trick-or-treat. The ghosts of this world are enough. Buy DeWeaver’s book and give your brain a treat or a real scare this holiday weekend.

His view of an abolitionist future without prisons resembles science fiction and fantasy, but if enough of us get behind the vision, it could become a reality.

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