How to Unlearn Racial Bias

One of the most fun and fulfilling parts of our work here at Psychotherapy Networker is getting to showcase up-and-coming voices in the mental health space, individuals who are not only brilliant and passionate, but who challenge our field’s conventional thinking and push us to become more thoughtful and compassionate human beings—in and outside the therapy room. So when the folks at publisher Little, Brown Spark reached out to ask if we’d be interested in partnering on the launch of its New Voices Award, which recognizes the stellar writing of underrepresented voices in psychology, our answer was—of course—a resounding yes. The winner of the inaugural award is social psychologist and highly sought-after DEI consultant Evelyn Carter, whose newly released book Was That Racist?: How to Detect, Interrupt, and Unlearn Bias in Everyday Life offers an incisive roadmap for combatting racism in a world that seems determined to tell us it doesn’t exist. We’ve published a short excerpt from Carter’s book here, which brings together her love of research, pop culture, and strategy to create insights that actually stick, and makes one of the most pressing and complex issues of our time feel more approachable.

Growing up, I played the violin—quite well, in fact. At the height of my abilities, I played lengthy concertos from memory, won the highest accolades at state competitions, sat first chair in my high school’s orchestra, and successfully auditioned for a seat in the citywide youth orchestra.

I wasn’t born with natural musical talent. When I was three years old, my mother taught me a three-step technique that prepared me to play: Hold the violin out at arm’s length with the strings facing away from my body, turn my wrist counterclockwise until the strings faced upward, and bring the whole instrument toward the underside of my chin. To call what ensued that day “music” would be incredibly generous, but with time and practice, the shrill cacophony that emerged when I first drew that bow across those strings evolved into something much more beautiful and masterful.

The idea that a person of any age would pick up a violin for the first time and be able to play Bruch’s Violin Concerto No. 1 in G Minor with the musicality of Hilary Hahn is laughable. No skill is inherent in us; they are all forged over time. Viewing learning as a journey or a trajectory reflects a growth mindset—the belief that the attributes, traits, and behaviors we have right now aren’t fixed, but things you can cultivate through your efforts.

Over the last several decades, the goal of cultivating a growth mindset has been embraced by ambitious professionals, managers, seekers of self-help, and students of all ages alike. Countless articles, books, and even songs(!) have been written about the topic. As a culture, we have correctly adopted the belief that a growth mindset helps us all better meet the challenges that come with learning and maintaining any skill. And yet, we have much work to do when it comes to translating this mentality to learning to detect racial bias in ourselves and others. This is due, at least in part, to our misguided understanding of racial bias as an immutable personality trait or a fixed belief system. The fact of the matter is that this ability to detect bias is—like the violin—a skill to be learned.

With so much at stake, where to begin? Just as a violinist must commit to early, focused practice to build their technique, we, too, must dedicate ourselves to the continuous, intentional practice of recognizing and addressing bias in ourselves and others. And yet, lingering in the realm of the fundamentals won’t be enough to transform a burgeoning musician into a virtuoso. Any great violin player will tell you that musicianship is about more than playing the notes as they’re written on the sheet music. It’s about the expression of those notes—modulating volume, honoring the silences between sounds as integral parts of the piece. Similarly, detecting racial bias is a nuanced art.

How to Cultivate a Growth Mindset about Racial Bias

Bias is malleable: No one is irreparably racist. Understanding this helps White people feel more comfortable during interracial interactions, and their comfort is generally readily apparent to others. But believing there’s room for transformation is only step one. White people who want to go beyond the basics must commit to an ongoing learning process.

A growth mindset about racial bias requires shedding an ego-protecting facade and embracing the vulnerability that accompanies a posture of learning. Getting better at detecting bias requires showing up, being curious, finding a community willing to grow together, getting feedback from that community, and working to improve accordingly.

Instead of looking for a role model (after all, none of us is perfect, and there’s a near guarantee that the moment you designate someone as a role model, they’ll do something cringeworthy or worth correcting), find people modeling the behaviors you want to emulate. In everyday settings, this could be the person who speaks up in a meeting after an Asian woman has just been interrupted and says, “Let’s let Sarah finish her thought before you jump in.” It could be the White parent at the library with an armful of books featuring diverse characters and cultures, or the White person who shows up to brunch with a diverse group of friends and partakes in their revelry at the table beside you. You’ll notice these behaviors because they’ll make you think, Wow, I wish I’d thought to say or do that, but I honestly don’t know if I’d be that comfortable speaking up like that, or reading those books to my kids, or sitting at that table right now. Simply acknowledging that discomfort is a step toward growth.

Use those moments of recognition to curate your network. For example, after the meeting, go up to the person who called out the interrupter and ask for a few minutes of their time. Acknowledge your surprise (and perhaps even your awe) that they gave voice to a behavior that you initially didn’t even notice. Ask them if they were ever in your shoes, and if so, how they found the courage within themselves to speak up for a colleague. Or strike up a conversation with that parent at the library. As parents, the quest for information about baby gear, pediatricians, and preschools often leads us to initiate somewhat awkward conversations with strangers. Children’s literature can be one more such catalyst! Start by asking what made them pull those particular books from the library shelves. Share that you want your child to learn more about all the people and experiences that comprise our world. Ask if they’d share their favorite titles with you.

A network of people with shared values is great. But a community that holds one another accountable for learning, and then applying what they’ve learned, is even better. If you seek out books, make sure you actively read and engage with the content. Highlight and star passages that stand out to you, and make notes in the margins. Then have the courage to connect with others on the same journey and share what you’re discovering about yourself. If it feels daunting to do this, remember that one of the best ways to cultivate a growth mindset is to be willing to own up to mistakes and ask for guidance when you need it. It will be uncomfortable at first, but the benefits of this group sharing far outweigh the costs: One person’s mistake and the lessons they gleaned from it can serve as a guide, sparing others from the same error.

Finally, learn from your mistakes and track your progress. When you mess up, pause to notice the impact of what you’ve said or done. If you ask your Latino coworker, “Where are you from?” and are surprised when his answer is “Tennessee,” examine why you assumed he wasn’t American. If you stop a Black person in the grocery store to ask where you can find the snack aisle and are met with a confused glance and “I don’t work here,” ask yourself why you assumed they were an employee and not a fellow patron like yourself. Take in feedback, whether internal or external, and fine-tune your actions for the future. When a similar situation arises in the future and you behave differently, pause and acknowledge that growth, too.

You may not have thought of yourself as racially biased before, but now that you understand the concept of growth mindset, you know that bias is not an irreparable indictment of your character and that detecting bias is a skill that can be cultivated over time. Perhaps now you’re more willing to acknowledge the biases you have, and—most importantly—you’re willing to do something about them. Being the first in your social circle to raise your hand and declare your biases can feel risky. But the only way progress will happen is if more people own their racial missteps and commit to learning from them, ultimately changing their behavior. Here’s what that kind of honesty might look like.

I was hiring! A colleague and I were preparing to bring on a research assistant to support our work—a decision that was long overdue. We developed the job description together and pored over applications, carefully crafting a short list of finalists. We were committed to leading an equitable process, so we developed a set of interview questions we would ask every candidate in order to level the playing field (unstructured interviews are a breeding ground for bias). We practiced who would say what to ensure consistency. Finally, we scheduled the meetings and held the interviews with our finalists.

One of our interviews was with a young Asian woman named Christine. The conversation lasted about an hour, and at the end, Christine stood up to shake our hands. I smiled at her warmly and said, “Thank you so much, Robin. We’ll be in touch soon!” I can still see the look of horror on the face of my colleague, who explained what I had done shortly after Christine left the room. I think we can all agree that it wouldn’t feel great for your interviewer to call you by the wrong name, but my colleague and I knew the more problematic reason behind my name swap: Robin was the other young Asian woman who was a finalist in our pool.

One of the ways racism manifests is that individualism is something afforded to White people and not to people of color. However unintentionally, we’re often perceived as a monolith—a mass of people with equivalent experiences, characteristics, and belief systems, simply because we share the same skin color. In truth, we have as little in common with others who look like us as we do with any stranger we pass on the street. I’ve been on the receiving end of the exact same blunder I made with Christine that day, and I know how much it hurts. It’s not that I don’t want to be identified as Black—I’m proudly Black! I’m also proudly an individual, of which my Blackness is only one of many defining attributes. Being seen as “just another Black girl” dismantles who I uniquely am and what I uniquely bring to this world, whittling my dynamic being into a cluster of tired stereotypes. The second I categorized Christine and Robin as “the Asian female candidates,” I extinguished their uniqueness, merging the two in my head as some indistinguishable “other.”

I realize there’s a small chance that sharing that story undermines my credibility as someone writing about detecting bias. But there’s a greater chance that you aren’t judging me too harshly, because you’ve likely had a similar misstep. Sharing my own story is a way of admitting that I, too, am biased, while declaring that I’m working to be a little less so, and to do a little less harm, by learning a little bit more every day. In this situation, my growth mindset is precisely what prompted me to pause and think about the impact of my mistake. I reflected on how our brains take shortcuts, like categorizing both women as “the Asian candidates in the hiring pool,” and resolved that I needed to work harder to avoid those mental shortcuts in the future (not to mention write down the name of any person I’m meeting with very clearly at the top of my notes!). I also made sure to apologize as soon as possible to Christine, thanking her for her time and acknowledging that my mistake undoubtedly made for a jarring experience at the end of her interview.

Instead of shamefully withholding my mistakes, I’m emboldened by the knowledge that sharing my blunders is an essential part of my growth process. I’ve observed my own mindful transformation over time, and I know that anyone who is willing to invest the energy and effort (and honesty!) will see the growth and transformation in themselves, too.  If we hold on to the misconception that bias is fixed and permanent, rather than seeing it as a fluid and adaptable trait that’s available to evolution, we’ll give up on the idea of growth altogether—before we even get started.

Learning to detect racial bias is an ongoing process. For as long as we inhabit this world with all our sociocultural conditioning, we’ll have to keep our ears, eyes, hearts, and minds open for it. This requires exposing ourselves to information that challenges our personal beliefs and worldviews, trying new things and making mistakes—sometimes in private, and other times in the uncomfortable presence of others—and being open to feedback about how what we said or did had a different impact than the one we intended. A person with a fixed mindset would feel threatened by the prospect of all this, but understanding our potential to evolve is the first in a series of steps toward realizing that potential, and all the joys that come with it.

Adapted from WAS THAT RACIST? by Evelyn R. Carter, PhD. Copyright © 2026 by Evelyn R. Carter. Used with permission of Little, Brown Spark, an imprint of Little, Brown and Company. New York, NY. All rights reserved.