Most of us are not accustomed to doing it and not proficient at doing it well. Having real conversations about race can be a tricky thing for us white folks. ThatвЂ™s a privilege of American whiteness. And, as I learned in my childhood home, I donвЂ™t have to say anything about race if I donвЂ™t want to. I donвЂ™t have to know or think much about race to succeed. I realized that I donвЂ™t have to play that game. The game of racial chess and accommodation became almost second nature, many explained, on their paths to success. They told me how they think consciously about race and develop strategies around race to get by. They were generous with their time, and patient with my naivetГ©. I spent the rest of that year inviting classmates to get together and share more of their stories. All the people of color in the room-each one an accomplished leader-could point to times when they had been marginalized or disadvantaged or mistreated specifically because of their race. As I heard these stories from people I knew and trusted, something began to sink in. Classmates told story after story about how various aspects of their lives are shaped by perceptions of race. Moms described the sadness of having to prepare their kids for a world in which they see discrimination persist.

Dads described having вЂњthe talkвЂќ with their sons about surviving a traffic stop. Then, after a while, I shut up.ДЇor the rest of the two-day program, I listened as my classmates shared stories about ways racism had impacted their lives. We had two straightforward tasks: Talk only about our personal experiences of race, and tell the truth. As the country was on the verge of electing our first black president, and pundits were predicting a new вЂњpost-racialвЂќ America, 70 of us from diverse backgrounds met, bonded, and got thrown into an intense race awareness program. I pondered that question during my Leadership Atlanta class year. Martin Luther King Jr.: вЂњI must confess,вЂќ he wrote, вЂњthat over the last few years I have been gravely disappointed with the white moderate.вЂќ He lamented our вЂњappalling silence,вЂќ our вЂњshallow understanding,вЂќ and our вЂњlukewarm acceptance.вЂќ To what extent, I asked myself in 2008, could I be an intended audience of a 45-year-old letter written within the cramped confines of a Birmingham jail? This started with a reflection on what must have been a profoundly understated confession from Dr.

WeвЂ™re white.ДЄfter two decades in Atlanta, IвЂ™m convinced thatвЂ™s wrong.ДЇor the last 10 years, IвЂ™ve been working to break the habit of avoiding talks about race. I learned an unspoken lesson there: We donвЂ™t need to talk about race.

So were my teachers and coaches and family members and pretty much everyone in a position of authority in my life. I grew up in a Florida golf course community and attended what were, essentially, all-white schools.

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