Dying of Whiteness: How the Politics of Racial Resentment Is Killing America's Heartland

In Missouri, Metzl speaks with a number of individuals who have lost loved ones to gun death by suicide. Despite staunchly advocating for gun rights, the interviews suggest that many Missourians support certain gun restrictions and would benefit from a better understanding of the risks that come with living in close contact with a large number of firearms.

In the first part of Dying of Whiteness, Metzl argues that the polarization surrounding gun rights debates in the United States harms everyone, particularly those who own and live with the most guns. Since 1996, there has been a ban on federally-funded research into gun violence, which has created a “knowledge vacuum” into the risks associated with owning firearms, including risk factors for gun death by suicide. The interviewees illustrate the anguish that this lack of understanding creates as they question their loved ones’ deaths using frameworks that aren’t necessarily relevant in cases of gun death by suicide.

One father, for example, remarks that he thought that his son was “a very happy person” and “didn’t realize that he was probably dealing with depression” before he died by suicide (55-6). Another survivor, whose 12-year-old nephew shot himself with the handgun his mother kept on her bedside table, is sure the boy “was depressed.” However, gun death by suicide is often an “impulsive” act triggered by a “passing crisis,” meaning that depression isn’t always a factor. Nevertheless, because of the ban on federal funding for research into gun death by suicide, the survivors that Metzl interviews are left with terrible, and possibly misplaced, guilt.

Over and over, the interviewees in Missouri state that their experiences of losing loved ones to gun death by suicide have not changed their opinions on gun ownership. Firearms remain an important part of culture and identity in rural Missouri. However, many of the interviewees do not advocate for unfettered access to guns. One man asks why “can’t we do more to make people store their guns in a gun safe” (59). Another woman echoes this sentiment, claiming parents should be “criminally responsible” if “a child kills themselves with a loaded weapon in a parent’s home” (93). Another thinks “there should be definitely some sort of background check” (113). Even the many pro-gun white Americans recognize the need for some kinds of safety controls and regulations, suggesting that the gun debate is not as black-and-white as most politicians and media outlets want the American public to believe.

In Tennessee, Metzl and his research team spoke with focus groups of white and African American men on the subject of health and healthcare. They divided the men according to race, age, socio-economic status, and other factors, hoping to create greater group cohesion and confidence between the men.

Although he spoke with groups of men across middle Tennessee, the text mainly focuses on a group of white men in Franklin, a small, predominately white and conservative town south of Nashville. Many of the men Metzl spoke with fell into the so-called “doughnut hole” of health insurance coverage: They made just over $15,856 per year, which disqualified them for Medicaid but left them unable to pay for their own coverage. Due to “mountains of medical bills” (128), they ended up in a transitional low-income housing project. Although some of the men with chronic health conditions recognized they “would be dead without Medicaid or the VA” (148), they staunchly opposed the Affordable Care Act, calling it “a form of like socialism or […] communism” (149).

Metzl tracks how the white men in his focus groups worried about issues of “cost” when it came to healthcare, suggesting underlying racial resentment and anxieties “about the cost marginalized others might inflict upon [white Tennesseans]” (154). The men’s conversations also frequently veered toward Donald Trump, who was running for president while Metzl was conducting his research. Although starting out innocently enough, discussing the challenges of exercising and eating a healthy diet, the “group narrative” moved to “racially and ethnically charged invective” when government intervention in healthcare was mentioned (151).

Meanwhile, in the African American focus groups, Metzl found that Black men were far more likely to see the communal benefit of expanded access to health care. They used language like “us,” “we,” and “our,” which suggested the “communal responsibility” of health and well-being instead of the individualistic language that most white men used. This communal responsibility also expanded to Americans of all races and ethnicities, as they argued that the ACA would “protect the citizenship, not just black people” (163).

In Kansas, Metzl conducted interviews with a number of individuals involved in the public school system, including principals, administrators, and parents. In contrast to Tennessee and Missouri, Metzl noticed a greater degree of “buyer’s remorse” as Governor Brownback’s economic austerity measures began to backfire. Even Kansans who continued to support Brownback voiced dismay over the decline of the state’s public schools, suggesting again that compromise on a “middle ground” is possible, even in a modern-day polarized political climate.

One parent argues that Brownback’s tax cuts have “gotten a bad rap” from “fake news and liberal media” (219). However, she also admits that the tax cuts probably “hurt” poor minority school districts more. She says that everyone’s voices are “super important” and hopes Kansas can solve “the equity problem” in their schools (221). Another parent calls Brownback a “complete disaster” for Kansas but remains “a huge Trump supporter” (263). When Metzl points out the contradiction, the interviewee says he is “probably right” and claims she, along with her family and friends, will continue supporting Trump “no matter what he does” because of what he represents for white America (264).

The school officials that Metzl spoke with were more outspoken about their opposition to Brownback’s tax cuts because they have a clearer vantage point of the damage being done. One principal tells Metzl the years since the cuts have “taken a toll” on him, while an administrator details how students of color have been disproportionately affected. They argue that “parents and students rarely know how things worked [at schools] before they became stakeholders” (232), leading to a “narrowing of expectations” and an acceptance of reduced educational offerings.

In general, however, the interviews that Metzl conducted in Kansas illustrate the near-universal support for quality education, suggesting that the United States’ “deadlocked system” could change with an emphasis on “structural betterment” (287).