This year at the BET Awards, Jesse Williams was awarded the BET Humanitarian Award. His acceptance speech was an inspiring, confrontational and a very real statement about the state of black Americans and the responsibility we all have to dismantle systems of racial oppression and inequality. Williams' speech touched on misogyny against black women, radicalized police brutality, economic responsibility within the black community and appropriation of black culture. Naturally, Williams' speech was met with overwhelming support and enthusiasm, but was also met with some criticism. While addressing every critique of Williams' speech is theoretically possible, doing so would draw attention to opinions which should be ignored, rather than given attention and fuel, so this article attempts to address only one line of criticism: Jesse Williams' privilege, or lack thereof, as a sometimes white-passing black man. For argument's sake, we're going to ignore his curly hair, brown skin and button nose, and pretend here that Williams' is as white-passing as certain people seem to have decided.

This line of thinking is problematic at best and incredibly dangerous at worst. This is a method of silencing black people, similar to gas-lighting as a tool to silence abuse victims; by denying blackness, you can delegitimize a person's experiences and avoid having to address his complaints or comments. While the black people calling Williams too light to know racism may not be denying the existence of racism altogether, the white people taking part in this most certainly are. It may seem like a slippery slope, but requiring a litmus test for blackness silences important voices in the struggle for racial equality and is just unnecessary. What exactly do we gain by requiring black people to qualify their blackness? All colorism does is allow racism to break through our ranks and turn us on one another. In his speech, Williams' said "...systems built to divide and impoverish us cannot stand if we do." He is absolutely correct; colorism which is designed to divide us, cannot stand if black people refuse to engage in it.

The topic of colorism, of course, also brings up the discussion of privilege or lack thereof. There is inherent privilege associated with being light skinned, with having features similar to those of Europeans. Even if a person isn't white, often being white-passing can afford a certain amount of privilege. If Williams' were darker, would he have been as well received? The answer is: probably not. However, that answer makes Williams' speech even more important in a number of ways, the first being that his light skin provides him access to a platform he may not have had otherwise. Williams' has consistently used that platform to criticize systems of racial oppression and injustice and has never once hidden behind his privilege when his "wokeness" became uncomfortable.

In fact, Williams has, on more than one occasion, directly addressed his privilege as a man of mixed heritage. While Williams can't help the color of the skin he was born with, he can help how he addresses the advantages which come along with it, and he has an outstanding history of using his privilege for the good of the black community. Another reason Williams' privilege makes his speech important is that he certainly could have made the speech all about himself. He could have talked about his own work and how fabulous he was for doing it, but he chose instead to thank and dedicate his award to just about everyone who deserved a piece of it from activists to teachers to students to parents. Williams is actually one of precious few prominent black men to address the role black women play in the black community and thank them for persevering in the face of misogynoir from black and white people alike. Williams' speech was one for the community rather than for himself.

As a white-passing woman of mixed heritage who has always been vocal about racial injustice and my role in dismantling it, I tend to balk at the idea of having to qualify one's blackness. Should we discount the teachings of Malcolm X because of his red hair or reject the benefits of Michaela Angela Davis' activism because of her fair skin? And how do we navigate the issue of white perception of blackness? Americans' notorious One Drop Rule, established during slavery and made law during Jim Crow, leaves mixed people in the no man's land between black and white; too black to assimilate into white society and reap the privilege which comes with that no matter their fair skin, and too white to find community with other black people or to be included in discussions of what oppression looks like and how to dismantle it. Meanwhile, when the KKK comes marching down the street, they aren't judging who not to lynch by their freckles or loose curls. Racism and anti-blackness affect all of us differently, but they affect all of us.

Of course there are times, especially when discussing issues of colorism, that we white-passing folk need to make way for those affected most by the issue and keep our voices down except to back them up. However, when we come to deciding who can and cannot speak on anti-blackness and racial injustice in general, we all, especially those with fair skin and the privilege which comes along with that, have an obligation to speak up and out. Those in positions of privilege must work to dismantle it, or they are complicit in it. Williams' understands that and has mobilized with that knowledge. The criticisms of his speech may have been legitimate if Williams had never acknowledged his privilege or worked to fight the systems which perpetuate it, but he has. There is a sense surrounding this commentary which suggests that Williams' critics feel that as a white-passing man, he doesn't have enough skin in the game, to which I can only respond, if Williams has nothing to gain by combating anti-blackness, if it would be easier and safer that he hide behind his privilege; the fact that he hasn't carries that much more meaning.

Ultimately, this whole discussion boils down to the question of whose experience is part of the black experience. Rather than creating a hierarchy of suffering, we should be welcoming diversity in our voices as further proof that the influence of the African diaspora is everywhere. The diversity in the black experience gives credibility and power to our cause. Life as a light-skinned black person is a part of the black experience as much as anything else. Being the only black person in a room of people who think you are white is an experience unique to black people, especially light-skinned black people, making it part of the black experience. People forcing you to qualify your blackness is unique to black people, especially light-skinned black people, and is therefore part of the black experience. Battling privilege from the inside as a light skinned person is as much a part of the black experience as battling it from the outside as a dark-skinned person. The experience of every child of the African diaspora is the black experience. Period. We should be applauding and supporting Jesse Williams and those like him who step out of their privilege to criticize and destroy systematic oppression eloquently, passionately and loudly and joining in ourselves.