A decade ago, in civic sermons across the South, the Rev. William J. Barber II described all the ways that states made voting harder once federal protections were weakened. He pointed out that the most restrictive laws were designed with Black people in mind — a federal judge found they were targeted with “almost surgical precision.” With every detail, Barber added to the portrait he was painting, tacitly asking: Who does this remind you of? “Jim Crow did not retire,” he answered. “He went to law school. … Meet James Crow, Esquire.”
It’s a powerful allegory. Jim Crow was a minstrel character from the 19th century, when stereotypes of enslaved Black people fueled a booming entertainment industry for White audiences. In the 20th century, he entered politics, denying constitutional rights to Black Americans through the courts and legislatures, police violence and vigilantes. Today, having graduated and passed the bar, he sues to roll back civil rights gains and passes partisan legislation in gerrymandered states. The goal has always been the same: Exploit racism for political and social advantage. Barber’s argument was that racial prejudice had not been vanquished, but had evolved.
Personifications can make complex concepts more accessible. Uncle Sam represents the federal government — the tax guy we have to pay, the one who famously “wants you” for the military. Rosie the Riveter wore coveralls and flexed her muscles as proof that women could power an industrial economy. There’s Karen — a name arbitrarily assigned to nosy, entitled White women who use threats of law enforcement to get their way. And Uncle Tom, a misappropriated title from fiction, designated for Black folks who ease their own way by catering to power and seeking White people’s approval.
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These images become stand-ins for policy positions. Complicated systems can be difficult to get a handle on, and bureaucracies don’t inspire casual observers to get involved. People did not need to be experts in wartime mobilization or the sociology of gender roles to have opinions about Rosie being a riveter. In the 1980s, the “welfare queen” caricatured messy debates about the social safety net and government’s role in addressing inequality that integrated race into the matter. Similarly, today’s right-wing activists are in the process of personifying a tangle of issues, fears and grievances into a professorial character you could call “Dr. DEI,” a liberal arts scholar.
The far right declares that the nation’s changing demographics threaten American culture and that diversity comes at the expense of White people. It points to critical race theory as proof — citing misconceptions of the law school framework as evidence of an imagined grand conspiracy. It positions its adherents as victims of racial discrimination because of policy attempts to right past wrongs and because opportunities have been opened to people of color. It laments feeling socially stigmatized for these views, and it turns that feeling into fuel for political campaigns.
Needing a scapegoat for these contentions, its champions have settled on DEI — the diversity, equity and inclusion agenda, which they believe is reshaping the nation by leveraging education, cultural influence and claims of moral superiority. DEI is their catchall for everything that feels unfair or uncomfortable for White Americans. It’s also used as a pejorative for Black officials deemed unqualified or a quota choice: Kamala Harris is labeled a “DEI vice president.” Both the governor of Maryland and the mayor of Baltimore are criticized as DEIs in office. Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson was accused of being an affirmative action appointment, seating DEI on the Supreme Court.
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Dr. DEI is an easy foil whenever provocateurs seek to stoke resentments. It’s why more than two-thirds of the nearly 200 state bills from 2021 to 2022 sought to restrict lessons on racial injustice and American history. The measures contained language — cribbed from right-wing think tanks and a Trump administration executive order — commanding that no student should feel guilt or anguish when learning about the uncomfortable parts of our national narrative.
Dr. DEI is another political boogeyman for extremists, a treasonous character hellbent on undermining the country. It’s marketed as the work of America-hating academics in ivory towers, who seek to demoralize and indoctrinate young minds into thinking their nation is irredeemably racist. With each additional accusation of exploiting people’s sympathies while defrauding business and government for selfish gain, right-wing activists tacitly ask the same question: Who does this remind you of? Suggesting that maybe the welfare queen was not cast out … but that she went to graduate school.
The electoral divides in the country are stark. White voters are the only racial and ethnic group that the right can routinely win. Women, young adults, and college-educated and unmarried voters increasingly support left-leaning candidates, who advocate for government programs to address inequality and injustice. Former president Donald Trump told a South Carolina rally that this division is “not just a matter of values; it’s also a matter of national survival.” Americans might not fully understand all the ways laws and policies interact with racial disparities, but they have opinions about DEI. That makes this complex issue easier to politicize — and easier to exploit for political and social advantage.
