Alice Echols is Professor Emerita in the Departments of History & Gender Studies,
Dana & David Dornsife College at the University of Southern California. She is the

author of numerous books, including
Daring to Be Bad,
Scars of Sweet Paradise: The Life and Times of Janis Joplin,
Hot Stuff: Disco and the Remaking of American Culture.
Echols applied the "
Page 99 Test" to her latest book,
Black Power, White Heat: From Solidarity Politics to Radical Chic, with the following results:
From page 99:
physically connected, and in ways that were new and profound. However,
SNCC was a much less forgiving environment; its emotional economy was
not fully reciprocal. Whites and Blacks forged intense bonds in SNCC. But
the need for affection and approval characterized whites’ relationships with
Blacks more than Blacks’ relations with whites, and in ways that felt oppressive
to some Blacks.
Carmichael and Lester’s characterization of white activists as moved more
by self-interest than by the struggle for racial justice might be a fair description
of some. However, it did not characterize the behavior of SNCC’s veteran
white staff or that of some of the newcomers. It also misrepresented white-on-
white antiracist organizing as easily achievable in the American South,
something that civil rights activists knew was untrue. Bob Zellner’s experience
of trying to organize whites in 1961 led him to ask if it was possible to work
with white Southerners “without them stringing you up?”
Despite the odds they faced, some whites in SNCC kept trying, at least for a
while. The White Folks Project, initiated in 1964, quickly abandoned its original
goal of mobilizing moderate white liberals to counteract the influence of
the KKK and the White Citizens’ Councils. Instead, it turned its attention to
trying to reach the white working class. The Project put 25 people to work
in Biloxi, Mississippi, where they hoped to establish a “beachhead” for the
movement among whites. What little headway they made was undone by a
malicious rumor that the group was there to help Blacks, not whites, get jobs.
Evicted from their office, the staffers were forced to leave town. White SNCC
worker Emmie Schrader Adams spent part of the summer of 1964 in a more
rural part of the state trying to organize poor whites. Any progress the staffers
made came to an abrupt halt when locals discovered they were civil rights workers,
“race mixers.” They felt the young activists had hoodwinked them. “They
hated us, they felt angry and betrayed,” and they refused to open their doors.
In some cases, “they went for their guns or the telephone.”
Organizing poor white people, especially to forestall a backlash against the
civil rights movement made sense . . . in theory. However, as Bob Moses had
argued in that contentious November 1963 meeting, “It’s not true that whites
can go into the white community.” As soon as white organizers tipped their
hand and “broke the rules of the racial caste system,” they became the enemy.
In 1963, Carmichael laughed with white SNCC staffer Theresa Del Pozzo
about the “clear absurdity” that she could “organize” the white toughs in her
Atlanta neighborhood who were attacking Black people. Luke (Bob) Block,
a white activist involved in SCLC’s voter registration project of 1965, tried...
The Page 99 Test does not quite work for my book. Page 99 of Black Power, White Heat might encourage
readers to think that the book as a whole is a defense of white Sixties activists and a critique of
those Black activists who challenged whites’ seriousness and sincerity. That would be a shame
because the book offers a complex portrait of cross-racial solidarity, one that abjures the
vilification and romanticization of activists that sometimes characterizes histories of the Sixties.
Page 99 plunges the reader into the chapter that deals with how Black Power played out in the
Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC), a Black-led, militant group formed in
1960. For context: in its early years “black and white together” was central to SNCC’s identity,
only to become its albatross four years later. This happened for a complex set of reasons. But
the upshot was that many Black SNCC workers believed the group should be all-Black, and that
whites should leave it to fight racism in their own communities.
Page 99 begins with the tail end of my discussion of Black staffers’ frustrations with those white
colleagues for whom Black Power was primarily about their own rejection. I emphasize that
within SNCC whites often had a greater emotional investment in interracialism, and that their
need for Black colleagues’ approval, even gratitude, proved deeply alienating to many Blacks.
However, most of page 99 is not focused on Black staffers’ understandable frustrations, but
rather on the charges that some Black staffers leveled at their white co-workers. Stokely
Carmichael and Julius Lester caricatured whites as less interested in Black liberation than in
whining about their feelings of exclusion. But as I show on this page, some whites listened to
their Black critics and set about organizing in Southern white communities. This is page 99’s
takeaway: there were whites in SNCC who attempted to fight racism among whites, though it
proved to be impossible. This story is important because too often people imagine that racial
solidarity failed in the Sixties, and that its failure was entirely attributable to the unreliability or
cowardice of white allies. Neither is true.
Learn
more about Black Power, White Heat at the Oxford University Press website.
--Marshal Zeringue