Understanding Inherited Bias: The Scripts We Live By

Let’s start with a pattern many of us know well. You share something personal, vulnerable even, and instead of leaning in with curiosity, people jump to their own version of the story. It can look like connection—“Oh, that happened to me too!”—but often it’s a subtle deflection. A way of shifting the spotlight. A way of staying safe.

That’s not necessarily malicious. It’s learned. It’s part of how many white communities have been socialized: to value politeness over presence, ease over emotional depth. In Episode 35 of White Women Wake Up, my mom and I unpack how those conversational patterns often stem from something deeper: inherited bias. The stories we tell about ourselves—our family mottos, our definitions of success, our ideas about “kindness"—are shaped not just by personality, but by cultural and generational scripts rooted in whiteness.

And unless we interrogate those scripts, they’ll keep quietly dictating how we show up (or don’t) in hard conversations about race, gender, and justice.

The Scripts We Inherit

Growing up, our family’s unspoken motto was peace at any price. Conflict avoidance was framed as kindness. Discomfort was to be dodged. Feelings were okay—just not loud ones. I learned early that if someone got upset, I might be the one blamed for “starting something.”

But I never fit that mold. I was always more upfront, more vocal. In a family that prized politeness and silence, my emotional honesty created friction. I was branded as controlling, aggressive, even selfish—and it stung. Those words never felt like they described my true self or intentions. I wasn’t trying to dominate; I was trying to be real. But when you’re the disruption to a system built on peacekeeping, you’re often framed as the problem.

Turns out, we weren’t alone. In predominantly white families, emotional suppression is often a tool of socialization—and survival. Scholar Robin DiAngelo notes that white people are socialized into “racial illiteracy,” where politeness is prized over truth, and emotions like anger or grief (especially in public) are seen as threats to white social order.

This kind of emotional regulation isn’t neutral. It often serves whiteness. In a society where “professionalism” and “civility” are coded through white norms, children who grow up learning to suppress discomfort often become adults who struggle to face injustice. We’re trained to prioritize ease over equity.

Here’s the truth: what many white families call "kindness" is often just another word for compliance. A way to silence dissent, avoid accountability, and preserve power. It becomes a kind of emotional gatekeeping, where those who disrupt the peace are excluded—even when that disruption is a call for justice.

But here’s the kicker: even when those scripts are well-meaning, they still uphold systems of harm.

Bias is the First Language We Learn

The science backs this up. Research shows that by six to nine months old, babies exposed predominantly to faces of their own race begin to prefer those faces. By age five, children of all races already show pro-white bias on implicit association tests. And perhaps most striking: one study found that a single 10-minute conversation with a parent about race—what researchers call a “color-conscious” dialogue—can reduce anti-Black bias in children by up to 61%.

Let’s pause there.

One 10-minute conversation.

That means our silence isn’t just passive. It’s formative. When we avoid talking about race with our kids, we don’t raise them to be “colorblind"—we raise them to absorb society’s default setting: whiteness as normal, neutral, and superior.

We don’t need to teach bias. The world already does that. Our job as parents, aunts, mentors, and friends is to interrupt it.

Silencing as Protection

One of the most subtle, and harmful, tools of inherited bias is this: we silence to protect. We shift the subject to avoid discomfort. We insist on positivity to sidestep pain. We center ourselves instead of listening deeply. These habits are baked into the social fabric of white families—and often mistaken for good manners or emotional intelligence.

But silencing doesn’t just protect the speaker—it protects the system. When we one-up a story, change the subject, or dismiss someone’s discomfort as "drama," we reinforce the idea that hard truths are dangerous, and that safety is found in sameness. That isn’t kindness. It’s control. And it teaches the next generation that discomfort is to be avoided, not explored.

This kind of emotional avoidance also shows up in spiritual and wellness spaces where “good vibes only” becomes a shield. We mask hard conversations behind terms like “keeping the peace,” “staying positive,” or “protecting our energy.” But whose peace? And at what cost?

For many white families, silence is not just a coping mechanism—it’s a tradition. A code of conduct passed down like fine china. Don’t rock the boat. Don’t name what you see. Don’t challenge the status quo. But beneath that silence often sits pain, resentment, and a deep sense of disconnection.

Breaking that cycle requires us to redefine what protection really means. Instead of protecting each other from discomfort, what if we protected each other’s right to speak, to feel, and to grow?

Family Values or Cultural Myths?

Another script we unpacked was this: Hard work equals success. It’s a story I internalized deeply—and one I now know isn’t just false, but harmful.

As my mom and I reflected, we realized that our belief in meritocracy—that success naturally follows effort—wasn’t just personal. It was political. It obscured the ways that white privilege, class status, and proximity to power smoothed our path. It let us believe we’d “earned” things that were never accessible to others.

Sociologists call this the “bootstrap myth,” a cultural narrative that upholds capitalism and whiteness by suggesting that anyone who struggles must not be working hard enough. And yet data consistently shows that race—not effort—is a stronger predictor of outcomes like wealth, education, and health in the U.S. In fact, the median Black household in the U.S. holds just 16% of the wealth of the median white household—a disparity confirmed by the Federal Reserve’s 2022 Survey of Consumer Finances, which reported median net worths of approximately $44,900 for Black families compared to $285,000 for white families.

If hard work guaranteed success, Black women would be running the country.

When white families pass down values like “just be polite” or “keep your head down and work hard,” we often think we’re teaching resilience. But we might also be teaching erasure: of emotion, of injustice, of truth.

Rewriting the Story

What’s been powerful about these conversations is how small shifts can spark real change. At a recent family gathering, we found ourselves in a discussion about trans athletes—a topic we knew could go sideways. But instead of bailing, we stayed. We sat in the discomfort. We didn’t all agree, but we kept talking. And for once, we didn’t end in silence or side-eyes.

That moment felt like a rupture in the old family script. Not a dramatic rewrite—but a necessary edit.

Here’s the thing: inherited bias isn’t a personal failing. It’s the air we breathe. But when we name it, we can change it. And the best place to start is often the dinner table.

What’s Next: Your Family, Your Rewrite

So here’s your invitation: ask your family this week, “What’s our kindness motto?” What were you taught about emotions, conflict, or race? Which scripts feel empowering—and which ones need an update?

And if that feels too big, start with ten minutes. Share a story about a time you got it wrong. Name whiteness out loud. Model a different way.

We’re not aiming for perfection here. Just presence. Just practice.

Stay curious, be open, and keep waking up.

—Jonelle

References

1. DiAngelo, R. (2018). White Fragility: Why It’s So Hard for White People to Talk About Racism. Beacon Press.

2. Kelly, D. J., et al. (2005). "Three-month-olds, but not newborns, prefer own-race faces." Developmental Science, 8(6), F31–F36.

3. New York University (2017). "Young Children Show Pro-White Biases." ScienceDaily.

4. Skinner-Dorkenoo, A. L., et al. (2021). "Reducing Children’s Racial Bias Through Developmentally Appropriate Conversations." Child Development, 92(1), 48–64.

5. McNamee, S. J., & Miller, R. K. (2004). The Meritocracy Myth. Rowman & Littlefield.

6. Chetty, R., et al. (2016). “The Fading American Dream: Trends in Absolute Income Mobility Since 1940.” National Bureau of Economic Research.

7. Federal Reserve Board. (2023). Greater Wealth, Greater Uncertainty: Changes in Racial Inequality in the Survey of Consumer Finances. https://www.federalreserve.gov/econres/notes/feds-notes/greater-wealth-greater-uncertainty-changes-in-racial-inequality-in-the-survey-of-consumer-finances-accessible-20231018.htm