The emotional is structural

5 questions for journalist, playwright, and visionary Esther Armah

Like a lot of you, I’ve read A LOT about racial justice. I’ve listened to A LOT of podcasts. I’ve watched A LOT of documentaries. I don’t think anyone’s work has provoked and inspired me as much as Esther Armah’s. The Founder and CEO of the Armah Institute of Emotional Justice, she has developed a framework and a way of thinking about the linkages between the personal and the political that totally rearranged my understanding of where and how racial justice work shows up—including in my own life. I can’t wait to hear how it provokes, enlightens, changes, and lands with you. Meet Esther…

Courtney Martin: The foundation on which this whole book is written, for me, was this sentence: “I treat the emotional as structural.” Can you explain what you mean by that?

Esther Armah: The world of self-help individualizes the emotional when it comes to healing. The framework of emotional justice institutionalizes the emotional when it comes to racial healing. I invite us to understand how the emotional shapes our socio-economic and political worlds, and then shapes how we move in those worlds. That’s the first part. The second is in direct response to how individualized racial healing was in South Africa when the focus was Black folk, and how collective it was when whiteness was centered. Because South Africa is the global model that is still lauded, my call was to require us to name the emotional as a pivotal structural pillar requiring much more careful focus, and systemic engagement. But that doesn’t mean individual work isn’t required, but the framework insists on inter-connecting the individual with the institutional – again evolving from a repair framework that individualized the healing needs of Black folk.

I loved reading about the journey that led you to define emotional justice and build out your framework, which included reporting on various collective attempts for racial healing. You observed whiteness being centered, even in efforts as celebrated as the TRC commission in South Africa post-apartheid, and point out how current “diversity training” in American workplaces are still mostly about White folks’ capacity (which is so limited). Can you talk more about the limitations of these trainings? I feel like this is what most White Americans are exposed to and so it’s a helpful case study to delve into.

I understand what you mean about white folks capacity, and limitation. I want to disagree that white folks’ capacity is limited though, I would challenge that. There is an unwillingness by too many white folks to do a particular emotional labor that benefits Black folk, and therefore benefits humanity. That’s because many white folks’ emotional connection to labor and race is about Black folk being in service to whiteness, and being limitless in their capacity to service whiteness. What is not said - but must be said - is there isn’t simply a reluctance by white folk to do this work, there’s a deep resentment, there’s a profound indignation, and there’s a rage. White people feel pushed by Black people calling for them to do their own work. Those feelings of being pushed - that resentment, indignation, and rage - manifest in how they use their power. With Emotional Justice, we talk about the two specific options when it comes to whiteness, racial healing, and navigating your discomfort: harness your power vs weaponize your power. Too often we use language like ‘limited capacity’ – the accurate term is ‘weaponizing your power.’ Black folk are acutely aware of what it means to be the target of a weaponized power by whiteness – there can be lethal and are certainly lived experience consequences. There is also a toll on white and Black people. What has happened is we have come up with terms to excuse white folks resentment and unwillingness – terms like ‘limited capacity’ or ‘unconscious bias’. Black people are dying – slow, emotional, painful deaths because of the toll of white supremacy, and their resistance to it, their emotional labor, their fight. We must stop using language that soothes whiteness, because ultimately that services a collective failure. The question is: will white folks who feel pushed stop weaponizing their power against those who push them, and instead harness it to do their particular emotional work?

You write: “White women are the designated worriers about the state of white masculinity.” I find this so powerful. I’ve historically been very vigilant about people’s feelings around me, trying to detect, manage, strategize. Your work has helped me think about how unlearning that way of being in relationships is not just a gendered effort, but a racialized one, too. If I decenter White men’s emotions in my life, then the White men in my life get more used to that experience. If I call White men in when I feel like they’re not seeing the racial or class or gender dimension of a situation, then they get used to be asked to see things outside of themselves. In this way, our most interpersonal choices become priming for political realities. What are other things you’ve seen White women do that you see as shifting the “emotional ecosystem”--as you put it--in their personal lives?

I love this question, and your examples! Thank you for sharing them. It is a question that you answered, and your answer should inspire other white women to explore their own emotional ecosystem, and how they might expand what you share here. I say that because part of Black women’s emotional labor within Emotional Justice is to center our replenishment, part of doing that means not doing labor on behalf of whiteness. So, I’m not watching what other white women are doing, I’m inviting white women to watch themselves and each other in order to do that labor, and challenge each other to go beyond what they think they have done.

You’ve been touring with the book, hosting parties and online workshops etc. What have your favorite surprises been so far?

At the Ghana book launch, I was presented with a huge, utterly scrumptious red velvet cake that was a replica of my book cover! Just wow! I cried. I was so shocked. And it was sooo delicious. One of my favorite things are what we’ve dubbed EMOTIONAL JUSTICE READER REVIEWS. For six straight weeks, folks have been posting across social media about the book, what moved them, underlining particular lines and parts, taking photos/screenshots and sharing their thoughts, what moves them, and how they’re using the framework for their work. I love that these reader reviews are by Black women, Brown women, white men and white women. This is especially gratifying because the book is designed to be a resource and a tool identifying each demographic’s emotional work. Writing this book was particularly hard, introducing and breaking down a framework, ensuring that there is clarity, action steps – doing so in a way that is comprehensible, and useable was a lot. Seeing it used exactly as I intended is utter joy.

You describe yourself as a “global Black chick.” If you could host a diaspora dinner party with three of your favorite thinkers and dishes, what would they be?

Such a great question! Do I get a dead or alive option? I’m global about my people and my lens, and perroquial in my cooking tastes! LOL! And only THREE, Lord! Forgive me while I take numerical license….Food first! Ghana jollof for sure, multiple desserts that must include key lime pie, banoffee pie, plus a final option of rhubarb crumble with hot custard on top. And plantain….(Additional menu items would include Caribbean food – specifically rice n peas and curry chicken…) And lobster mac’n’cheese. I’m a bit of a foodie. There’s no limited capacity when it comes to my culinary sphere…lol! Guests? So hard. Michaela Coel, Winnie Mandela, Ayi Kwei Armah.

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Buy Esther’s book here. And be sure to tag her on instagram if you read it and learn a lot from a passage! To hear her beautiful voice and more of her brilliant ideas, listen here.

We will be donating to Sistah Space — a UK based organization for African-Caribbean domestic violence survivors led by Ngozi Fulani — in honor of Esther. Esther adds: “Ngozi was recently the target of racist abuse at Buckingham Palace, followed by social media trolls and vicious right-wing media attacks when she spoke up out about the racist incident.”