Note: This article is meant to acknowledge how white feminism has failed women of color. It is not intended to antagonize anyone. 

As The Guardian puts it, white woman tears are a specific “tactic many white women employ to muster sympathy and avoid accountability, by turning the tables and accusing their accuser” which oftentimes is a woman of color. 

My first encounter with white woman tears was when a white girl told me that she was more likely to be the victim of a hate crime for being gay than I was for being a person of color. While I will be the first to admit that being a part of the LQBTQ+ community does unfortunately place a target on people’s backs, I was not trying to play part in the oppression Olympics. 

First of all, I hate statements like these. The whole “my life is harder than yours” and racism is “not even that big of a deal anymore” feels patronizing and demeaning. And oftentimes I’m the one left feeling like I have to protect white people’s feelings. 

Second of all, sometimes there’s no other way to go about it than to say “you’re wrong.” When I explained to that girl that I respectfully disagree because I cannot wash the color off my skin, she was flabbergasted. My friends who are queer and women of color will tell you the same thing: it is so much harder to survive when the color of your skin immediately marks you as other. No matter what I try to do, the color of my skin can never be erased. 

In our “uber-liberal” state of Massachusetts, the Department of Justice reveals that race and ethnicity account for 58.2% of hate crimes, while sexual orientation accounts for 15.8% and sex accounts for only 0.6%. I am not trying to diminish the hardships and oppression that either group suffers; like I said originally, just want people to take accountability for their actions without being having to compare whose issues are bigger. 

But it does irk me that when it comes to having difficult conversations about race, white people become so defensive. Recently, it’s been at the forefront of my mind, as I have noticed more and more white women refusing to acknowledge their racial privilege. Yes, it is hard to be a woman. Yes, white men are super privileged. But so are you. 

Essentially, as Maia Hoskin explains, “the discrimination that white women face does not absolve them from the role that some play in perpetuating white supremacy and ultimately benefitting from people of color's oppression”. 

White woman tears seem to trump POC struggles every time. On April 11, 2021, Kim Potter, a white woman, fatally shot Duante Wright, a Black man, with her hand gun but claimed it was an accident because she meant to grab her taser. According to AP News, “Potter cried in testimony at her trial in December and sobbed again Friday as she directly addressed Wright’s family in the courtroom.” Lo and behold, the white woman only got 16 months in prison and a $1000 fine. The district judge gave Potter a "significant downward departure" in her sentence despite sentencing guidelines and empirics showing black officers who made similar mistakes serving life. 

And don’t forget about the Missing White Woman Syndrome. MWWS refers to the media coverage surrounding missing persons cases. As Emma Vallelunga explains, most often the media covers cases about “young, white, upper or middle-class women or girls” whereas “the coverage of missing women who are not white, who are of lower socioeconomic standing” is extremely rare. We see white women as more feminine and deserving of being saved, but women of color are often depicted as aggressive and rude and less of a “damsel in distress”. Think about Gabby Petito and how sensationalized her disappearance became despite the thousands of women of color (WOC) that have gone missing in the same manner. 

And, I’m ashamed to admit, in the face of white woman tears, I have folded. Suddenly self-conscious, I wonder if I’m overreacting and just misinterpreting the situation. But it’s clear that these difficult conversations about race are meant to spur discussions. That discomfort white people feel when they talk about race is something to embrace. White people need to acknowledge the mistakes of the past and how they affect people of color today. Sometimes, white women will not be at the center of an issue—nor will WOC—and that’s okay. Don’t waste your breath trying to guilt me for not apologizing for something that was never a personal attack. 

I just cannot keep screaming at the top of my lungs for people to listen when others only need to whisper.