On May 25, 2020, police officer Derek Chauvin slowly killed George Floyd in Minneapolis while three other officers stood by without intervening. Floyd died from his injuries in what was ruled a homicide, and Chauvin was later convicted of second-degree murder, third-degree murder, and second-degree manslaughter (Zehn and Dennis Reference Zehn and Dennis2020). The viral video of the fatal encounter sparked nationwide multiracial protests against police brutality and the systemic mistreatment of Black Americans (Burch et al. Reference Burch, Cai, Gianordoli, McCarthy and Patel2020). These extensive multiracial protests, with an estimated 15 to 26 million participants, were described as the largest movement in the history of the United States (Buchanan, Bui, and Patel Reference Buchanan, Bui and Patel2020), leading to significant media coverage (Dunivin et al. Reference Dunivin, Yan, Ince and Rojas2022) and lasting attention on social media (Kann et al. Reference Kann, Hashash, Steinert-Threlkeld and Alvarez2023). This movement had a documented progressive influence on racial attitudes, including opinions about policing and reforms (Drakulich and Denver Reference Drakulich and Denver2022; Sances Reference Sances2025), although these attitudes remained polarized along partisan and ideological lines (Brown and Mourão Reference Brown and Mourão2022; Reny and Newman Reference Reny and Newman2021).
Although public discourse during this period largely centered on attitudes toward Black Americans and structural racial inequality, it was also a moment that disrupted the racial status quo, making whiteness visible for many white Americans. Amid the unprecedented conditions of the racial reckoning spurred by George Floyd’s murder, the hashtag #MyWhitePrivilege gained traction on social media platforms, and search-engine queries for terms such as “white privilege” and “white racism” experienced a notable surge.Footnote 1 This disruption provides unique opportunities for analyzing the dynamics of whiteness and invites reconsideration of prevailing theories of white identity. Existing literature often characterizes heightened white identity as reactive, marked by grievance, defensiveness, and in-group solidarity in response to perceived status threats or fears of sociopolitical displacement (Bai Reference Bai2020; Jardina Reference Jardina2019; Long Reference Long2023). However, identity is inherently reflexive and context dependent, shaped by both macro-level societal shifts and personal experiences (Bilgrami Reference Bilgrami2006; Burke Reference Burke1980; Stryker and Serpe Reference Stryker, Serpe, Ickes and Knowles1982). Consequently, this historical moment may represent an epistemic disruption in how white individuals conceptualize their racial identity and negotiate their place within an evolving social landscape (Hayward Reference Hayward2020).
This article argues that political events can reshape the racial context by making whiteness visible and disrupting existing power relationships, but that these shifts do not affect all white individuals uniformly; rather, they can provoke either backlash against change or solidarity with groups making claims, depending on how individuals interpret their whiteness. I explore how racial identity both varies and evolves in response to political and social contexts, highlighting the process through which white individuals grapple with and make meaning around their race throughout experiences of disruption, drawing on three rounds of semistructured, in-depth interviews with 40 white Americans living in the Minneapolis–Saint Paul metropolitan area in Minnesota that were collected over the span of three years from 2020 to 2023. The first round established a baseline of identity and political opinions and was conducted in February and March of 2020. The second round occurred in July and August of 2020, shortly after the murder of George Floyd in Minneapolis that sparked local and nationwide protests destabilizing the existing racial order and challenging white investments in ignorance of racial position and racial inequality. The final round took place in the summer of 2023 when the political repercussions of 2020 had largely diminished. These unique data capture expressions of white identity and political reasoning prior to the COVID-19 pandemic and the racial reckoning of 2020, in the immediate aftermath of the uprising that began in the Twin Cities, and three years later when new events shaped the political and social context, thus illuminating the processes through which white Americans deal with challenges, disruptions, and threats.
Among participants, I observed variations in both the intensity and meaning of white identity: some expressed grievance or forceful denial while others emphasized their understanding of whiteness as a privileged status. Following the uprising, I noted higher levels of expressed white identification across the board in reaction to the sudden shift in racial context and the national conversation about white privilege. Furthermore, the heightened salience of race influenced conversational norms surrounding race and whiteness, even among those who had previously expressed lower levels of identity salience. While I initially expected that awareness of white identity would decline over time as public attention to race waned, I found that the reduced salience of race in public discourse did not uniformly lead to disengagement. Instead, some individuals continued to acknowledge their racial identity, though sometimes in altered or more nuanced ways. For example, conversational norms around discussing whiteness and privilege that emerged during the 2020 protests persisted in the long term, shaping how participants framed their racial identity even as the broader political context shifted. This suggests that the process of meaning making in response to a disruption can have lasting effects on how individuals express and understand their identity. I found that disruptions to the racial context can provoke different responses as people adapt to unfamiliar circumstances, and that there are variations in whether and how they revert to their original interpretation of racial identity over time.
The remainder of this article is structured as follows. First, I provide an overview of the literature on white identity, focusing on how variations in white identity are characterized in the existing literature and how different forms of white identity could change, and present a typology of white identifiers. I then turn to a detailed account of the methodological approach, recruitment process, and the resultant sample of white Minnesotans who participated in the study, as well as the data analysis process and its limitations. Next, I outline expectations regarding how white identity should respond to a disruption in each round of interviews for this group of Minnesotans. I then document the three rounds of interviews that took place, presenting evidence from early 2020, during the summer of 2020, and in the summer of 2023—before, during, and after a disruption. To more clearly articulate how expressions of identity shift in response to a disruptive context, I closely examine changes among three ideal-type respondents who participated in all three rounds of interviews. Following a discussion of the results, I conclude with an assessment of the contextual shifts in racial politics that influence the salience of white identity for political outcomes and offer suggestions for scholars of white identity in a continuously evolving context.
White Identity and Racial Context
Group identity refers to “an individual’s awareness of belonging to a certain group and having a psychological attachment to that group based on a perception of shared beliefs, feelings, interests, and ideas with other group members,” and reflects how individuals understand their position and relationship to those who share their position within a status hierarchy (Gurin, Miller, and Gurin Reference Gurin, Miller and Gurin1980; McClain et al. Reference McClain, Carew, Walton and Watts2009, 474). Individuals can be weakly identified with their group or develop a stronger group consciousness when they interpret their collective group position as political (Jackman and Jackman Reference Jackman and Jackman1973; Miller et al. Reference Miller, Gurin, Gurin and Malanchuk1981). Due to the high-status position afforded to whiteness in the racial hierarchy, it is often characterized as a baseline category that is devoid of meaning (Delgado and Stefancic Reference Delgado and Stefancic1997; Jackson and Heckman Reference Jackson and Heckman2002; Perry Reference Perry2007), whereas identity is considered politically influential among lower-status groups (Dawson Reference Dawson1994; Gurin, Miller, and Gurin Reference Gurin, Miller and Gurin1980; Shingles Reference Shingles1981).
Social identity theory suggests that individuals automatically sort into groups and gain psychological benefits from high-status identities (Roediger [Reference Roediger1991] 2007; Tajfel and Turner Reference Tajfel, Turner, Austin and Worchel1986). Higher-status identities, like those of white Americans, can be taken for granted or disregarded when they are not made salient by context (Foote Reference Foote1951; McCall and Simmons Reference McCall and Simmons1966). While context is commonly understood as a physical attribute, it also encompasses dimensions such as racial integration, social dynamics, and psychological perceptions. Racial context in particular can refer to social relations both within and between racial groups (Huckfeldt and Kohfeld Reference Huckfeldt and Kohfeld1989) or, more specifically, the geographic, social, and psychological settings that inform individual attitudes about race (Anoll, Davenport, and Lienesch Reference Anoll, Davenport and Lienesch2024). Racial context links social-psychological processes to physical space and temporal settings (Nuamah and Ogorzalek Reference Nuamah and Ogorzalek2021) and is shaped by communication from media and elites (Laird Reference Laird2019).
Group identity can be contingent on social and political context, as it is “highly dynamic [and] responsive to intergroup dimensions of immediate social comparative contexts” (Hogg, Terry, and White Reference Hogg, Terry and White1995, 261). Research on white identity has consistently found that whiteness becomes a meaningful in-group identity in certain racial contexts: when there is proximity to nonwhite individuals (Bell Reference Bell2021) or when the advancement of the latter is perceived as a threat to white status (Hutchings et al. Reference Hutchings, Walton, Mickey and Jardina2011). When white individuals interact directly with nonwhite individuals, they may experience a “momentary minority status,” which brings their racial identification to the forefront (Gallagher [Reference Gallagher and Pincus1994] 1999) and can lead to an interpretation of their dominant identity as a disadvantage (Hartigan Reference Hartigan1999). The advancement of minorities can trigger a sense of group threat (Craig and Richeson Reference Craig and Richeson2017; Norton and Sommers Reference Norton and Sommers2011) and group consciousness can shift, leading to increased identification when group interests are perceived to be under threat (McDermott Reference McDermott2015). Scholars document white identity emerging in response to events or social structures that make whiteness visible, challenging an “epistemic principle of white normativity” (Mills Reference Mills, Sullivan and Tuana2007, 25).
The impact of shifting racial contexts is evident in existing research on white identity. In the early 2000s, white identity had low political salience, leading scholars to conclude that white group interests were not politically activated but might yet be triggered (Wong and Cho Reference Wong and Cho2005). Accordingly, Jardina (Reference Jardina2019) argues that rising multiculturalism, increased attention to immigration, and the election of Barack Obama as US president activated white identity as a politically meaningful in-group for some, shaping political preferences through a lens of defensive group membership. Much of the quantitative literature follows this prescription that white identity, when activated, is defensive and thus leads to support of conservative political preferences (see, for example, Armaly, Buckley, and Enders Reference Armaly, Buckley and Enders2022; Long Reference Long2023; Townsend et al. Reference Townsend, Hammond, Walker, Argyle and Pope2025). Yet, as Wong and colleagues (Reference Wong, Bowers, Williams and Simmons2012, 1168) caution, “context does not surreptitiously affect one’s attitudes and actions like smog can invisibly penetrate one’s lungs,” emphasizing that individuals respond to context in varied ways (Tam Cho and Baer Reference Cho, Wendy and Baer2011).
Variations in the strength of white identity have been theorized by numerous scholars, as outlined in table 1, reflecting that whiteness is “a complex, situated identity rather than a monolithic one” (McDermott and Samson Reference McDermott and Samson2005, 245). One group, which I will refer to as Type I, consists of individuals who are weakly identified with the white group (Croll Reference Croll2007; Goren and Plaut Reference Goren and Plaut2012) or exhibit low awareness of group membership (Cole Reference Cole2020). Individuals in this category have a limited understanding of their identity and thus express no real pride in their identity (Phinney, Jacoby, and Silva Reference Phinney, Jacoby and Silva2007). They may define their identity primarily in relation to the “other,” particularly finding meaning in negation such as “not being Black” (Knowles and Peng Reference Knowles and Peng2005, 239), yet maintain neutral attitudes about diversity (Goren and Plaut Reference Goren and Plaut2012).
Table 1 Types of White Identification in the Literature
Among those with stronger levels of identification, one subgroup, referred to here as Type II, have a heightened awareness of their racial identity characterized by pride or defensiveness regarding their privileged status (Cole Reference Cole2023; Croll Reference Croll2007; Goren and Plaut Reference Goren and Plaut2012). This pride may be marked by a lack of critical engagement with or interest in exploring their identity, along with low openness to learning about other groups (Phinney, Jacoby, and Silva Reference Phinney, Jacoby and Silva2007), intolerant attitudes about racial others (Croll Reference Croll2007), and anti-diversity attitudes (Goren and Plaut Reference Goren and Plaut2012). The literature routinely characterizes Type II white identifiers as both affirming their in-group identity and opposing diversity, partly because whiteness is commonly defined in contrast to out-groups and thus makes pro-in-group sentiment inherently oppositional to out-group inclusion.
However, some high-level white identifiers may also be more cognizant of their racial privilege (Knowles and Peng Reference Knowles and Peng2005), identifying strongly with the white racial group for more progressive reasons (Cole Reference Cole2023; Croll Reference Croll2007). These individuals, which I will refer to as Type III, are specifically aware of their racial privilege in addition to recognizing racial inequality (Goren and Plaut Reference Goren and Plaut2012) and may even see whiteness as “a system for restricting the allocation of resources in a stratified society” (Knowles and Peng Reference Knowles and Peng2005, 239). Type III identifiers may see their white identity as part of a struggle against racism (Croll Reference Croll2007), and thus have a more positive orientation to other racial groups and more pro-diversity attitudes, interpreting whiteness through a critical and justice-oriented lens (Goren and Plaut Reference Goren and Plaut2012; Phinney, Jacoby, and Silva Reference Phinney, Jacoby and Silva2007).
Recontextualizing Whiteness
Building on literature that recognizes variation in how white individuals identify with the racial group, I expected variations in how white ideal types make sense of their racial position under conditions of disruptive change in the political and social context. Following the literature outlined in table 1, I define Type I identifiers as individuals who have little awareness of or interest in their white identity beyond basic group membership. However, unlike most previous literature, I do not contend that these individuals have neutral attitudes about diversity and racial out-groups (Croll Reference Croll2007; Goren and Plaut Reference Goren and Plaut2012), but rather that these out-group racial attitudes are not understood through the lens of their own racial identity. Indeed, neutrality cannot be truly present with epistemic investments in white ignorance (Mills Reference Mills, Sullivan and Tuana2007) that play a key role in sustaining structural racial injustice (Hayward Reference Hayward2017). I characterize Type II identifiers as those who have a high level of white identity that is expressed through pride in their status as white group members and a desire to maintain this status, or even a sense of grievance around perceived status loss. I consider Type III identifiers to be those who have a high level of conscious identification with the white group, who actively recognize white privilege as an unearned benefit, and who may even see a political responsibility to act against injustice. These three types may not be exhaustive of the myriad ways in which individuals can identify with whiteness, but provide a parsimonious typology for understanding how white individuals make meaning about their racial position and grapple with contextual changes or epistemic disruptions in the social order.
Changing the racial context should influence white attitudes differently depending on how individuals interpret their white identity. For the purposes of this article, context refers not only to physical location but also to the broader social and psychological environments in which individuals are embedded. Context can influence how individuals identify with and express attachments to their racial group (Gay Reference Gay2004), sometimes making identities more salient (Oakes, Haslam, and Reynolds Reference Oakes, Haslam, Reynolds, Abrams and Hogg1999) due to factors such as geography (Williams et al. Reference Williams, Byrd, Quintana, Anicama, Kiang, Umaña-Taylor and Calzada2020), critical historical events (Kroger and Green Reference Kroger and Green1996), and social interactions (Thoits Reference Thoits, Serpe, Stryker and Powell2020).
Racial contexts that heighten the salience of race should increase in-group identification, prompting individuals with low levels of white identity to become more aware of their group membership as whiteness is made visible. For those who already strongly identify as white, these contexts may further intensify their sense of racial identity. However, their reactions to the evolving context will diverge based on their interpretation of that identity. When the racial landscape shifts to emphasize the growing visibility or influence of minority groups, those who perceive their whiteness as a disadvantage may feel threatened by what they see as encroachment by racial out-groups (Craig and Richeson Reference Craig and Richeson2017; Updegrove et al. Reference Updegrove, Cooper, Orrick and Piquero2020). Conversely, individuals who interpret their whiteness as an advantage may have more prosocial reactions, including reductions in prejudice and greater openness to diversity (English Reference English2023; Onwuachi-Willig Reference Onwuachi-Willig2021), and may even show potential for racial solidarity (Hooker Reference Hooker2009).
How white individuals respond to shifts in the racial context depends in part on how they interpret their racial identity, and the nature of the context itself is critical to understanding these responses. Physical and social contexts, such as residential environments and interpersonal networks, are often resistant to change and tend to reinforce existing patterns of racial exposure and interaction (Anoll, Davenport, and Lienesch Reference Anoll, Davenport and Lienesch2024; Hartigan Reference Hartigan1999). In contrast, broader interpretations of contexts, such as those shaped by policy experiences (Nuamah and Ogorzalek Reference Nuamah and Ogorzalek2021) or political media and elite communication (Hopkins and Washington Reference Hopkins and Washington2020; Laird Reference Laird2019), may be more readily shifted, especially in the short term when the effects of policy or communication are more pronounced.
Adopting a broad definition of racial context allows for a wide range of factors to be considered as potential sources of contextual change. One particularly consequential example is the election of Barack Obama, which significantly altered the psychological racial context, making race unavoidably visible for white Americans through a disruption of the racial political order (Olson Reference Olson2004). This shift led many Americans to perceive ostensibly nonracial policies associated with Obama, such as healthcare reform, through a racial lens (Benegal Reference Benegal2018; Sheagley, Chen, and Farhart Reference Sheagley, Chen and Farhart2017; Tesler Reference Tesler2012). The political implications of this contextual shift were substantial, and contributed to renewed scholarly attention to white identity and its role in American politics that has largely focused on those who fit the profile of Type II identifiers (Jardina Reference Jardina2019).
Under conditions of pervasive shifts in racial contexts that challenge the racial order, reactions to these changes should vary by type of white identification (see table 2). Individuals with low or no identification with the white racial group (Type I) may experience heightened identification, potentially developing a level of group consciousness in reaction to a context that makes race more salient (McClain et al. Reference McClain, Carew, Walton and Watts2009) as the shifting context disrupts their investment in white visibility and destabilizes the “white-as-norm” worldview. Those with a stronger identification who take pride in the white racial group but perceive their group membership as a disadvantage (Type II) may respond to the shifting racial context accordingly. That is, they may feel particularly threatened by the shift and perceive greater symbolic and realistic disadvantages associated with their racial group membership. For this type, their investments in white grievance and disadvantage are disrupted by whiteness made visible and its association with privilege. Conversely, individuals with a strong white identification who view their membership as an advantage (Type III) may express reductions in prejudice or may even mobilize on behalf of out-groups. This disruption may illuminate their sense of personal responsibility for injustices, disrupting a sense of helplessness or blamelessness for structural racial injustices (Hayward Reference Hayward2017).
Table 2 Expectations of White Identity in a Changing Context
While shifts in the racial context occurring at the neighborhood or social-group level may have genuine and enduring effects (Engelhardt Reference Engelhardt2023), episodic shifts in racial context are likely to lead various types of white identifiers to revert to their original identification over the long term (Cialdini et al. Reference Cialdini, Alan Levy, Kozlowski and Petty1976; Thomas et al. Reference Thomas, Krosnick, Shook, Chiang, Krosnick, Chiang and Stark2016). Indeed, Piven (Reference Piven2006) argues that during these periods of disruption, sustained changes occur when responses are institutionalized and thus made more permanent, but it is possible that disruption can create more fluid pathways for thinking to evolve even when the disruption is stabilized (Hayward Reference Hayward2020). Table 2 outlines what is disrupted for each ideal type when there are contextual changes that challenge existing power structures: the invisibility of whiteness for Type I identifiers, narratives of white disadvantage for Type II identifiers, and a sense of blamelessness in racial inequality for Type III identifiers. While I expect individuals to return to their baseline level of white identification in the long term absent structural societal changes, there will also likely be variations in how individuals reach a new equilibrium. For Type I white identifiers, this means a reversion to a low salience of racial identity. In contrast, I expect Type II and Type III identifiers to maintain a higher level of awareness and attachment to the white racial group even once the disruption has faded. However, a return to an advantaged or disadvantaged interpretation of white group membership may have a different meaning following an epistemic disruption. Although these categories offer a useful framework, they are not exhaustive as individuals may respond to disruption in diverse and unpredictable ways. Nonetheless, this typology provides a valuable lens for understanding how differently situated white individuals interpret and adapt to shifting racial and political contexts.
Recontextualizing Whiteness in Minneapolis–Saint Paul
The purpose of this article is to understand how individuals identify with their whiteness and how that is influenced by shifts in the racial context. To do so, this article draws on three rounds of in-depth interviews with white residents of the Twin Cities in Minnesota.Footnote 2 Studying white identity in Minnesota offers a particularly rigorous test of the concept: as a politically progressive, predominantly white, and highly segregated state, residents are rarely compelled to confront their whiteness or cultivate a consciously articulated racial identity. Thus, there is an invisibility around whiteness and how it influences politics and social relations in the state. Importantly, this is not a study of Minnesotan white identity, but rather an exploration of variations in white identity conducted in the Twin Cities (Geertz Reference Geertz1973; Walsh Reference Walsh2012). While much of the existing literature emphasizes the urban–rural divide or centers on white identifiers with racially conservative views, this study benefits from the urban, liberal setting, offering a distinct approach to studying how white identity is shaped and expressed.
Recruitment, Sampling, and Interviews
While much research on political behavior and identity uses surveys, interviews are valuable in that “when we listen to people explain their lives to us, we gain a deeper understanding of how people at a given intersection of a range of identities think about the political world” (Cramer Reference Cramer and Rudolph2022, 42). Interviews also allow researchers to observe how individuals reason about issues, events, and identities, and how these are connected in a broader web of understanding. In early 2020, I recruited 40 white-identifying residents from the area to participate in semistructured interviews. This sample leans more Democratic, older, more educated, and more male than state and national population averages.Footnote 3
The interviews were “as open ended as possible yet focused enough to produce useful information,” beginning with questions about broadly defined political and social identities, exploring how these identities affect the political issues that respondents care about, and discussing current politics and political participation (Cramer Reference Cramer and Rudolph2022, 48). This semistructured approach allowed for more personal connections with participants and the flexibility to follow the threads of conversation, meaning that not every interview unfolded in precisely the same way.Footnote 4 My positionality as a white Minnesotan aided in the development of a rapport, as I was perceived as an insider so my presence did not disrupt the context perceived by study participants (Bayeck Reference Bayeck2022). The comfort afforded by my insider status increased the likelihood of candid political conversations with respondents. With repeated interviews I was able to develop a sense of trust with respondents, as interviews “offer a space in which individuals may find it easier to say certain things.” Individuals may, for example, find it easier to express complicated feelings about a dominant in-group identity in such an environment (Soss Reference Soss2014, 312). In an interview setting, we can observe how individuals reason through prompts in a way that reflects how they might think through the same problems when confronted with them in real life, with more nuance than could be captured quantitatively.
Following the protests in response to the murder of George Floyd, I reinterviewed 20 participants via the videoconferencing program Zoom in July and August of 2020. Twelve of the original participants took part in a final round of Zoom interviews in August of 2023. This research design with a group of white Minnesota residents allows for the examination of both between-individual differences in white identity and within-individual differences, reflecting three radically different political and racial contexts and observing how individuals process their identity through disruption.
Data Analysis and Limitations
These data are ideally suited for studying the nature of disruption by following how individuals understand their identity and make meaning in a continually changing context. Interviews are particularly valuable for drawing comparisons between individuals in different situations and for understanding varying contexts (Lamont and Swidler Reference Lamont and Swidler2014). Indeed, this research design facilitates comparisons across multiple contexts, both between individuals and within individuals at different points in time. I employed an inductive approach for the data analysis (Timmermans and Tavory Reference Timmermans and Tavory2012), which has been used for the generation of theory about political phenomena by numerous studies (Krizsán, Jezierska, and Sörbom Reference Krizsán, Jezierska and Sörbom2025; Martinsson Reference Martinsson2024; Ternullo Reference Ternullo2022; Theuwis Reference Theuwis2024). This process involved more than coding individual statements to produce broad generalizations; it aimed to uncover how individuals “attribute meaning and adjudicate among different interpretations of their context” (Berg and Ternullo Reference Berg and Ternullo2025, 10). It also reflected a deliberate choice to prioritize how individuals come to understand their identities (Soss Reference Soss2014). For parsimony and comparison with existing theories of white identity outlined in table 1, I categorize my respondents into three types. Table 3 provides an overview of what kinds of statements and keywords indicate high and low levels of identity and lead to different interpretations of identity.
Table 3 Qualitative Coding Guide
In the second and third rounds, I assessed the various types of white identifiers using the same characteristics but primarily focused on tracking how individuals’ understanding of white identity and racial politics evolved in response to the shifting racial context. While the context-dependent nature of identity means that individuals could—and did—change type, I concentrate on changes in how individuals, grouped by their type, understand their white identity in the first round. I ultimately conducted 40 first-round, 20 second-round, and 12 third-round interviews.Footnote 5
As with any study, there are limitations to these data and to the empirical approach used in this research. The foremost limitation is representativeness: there may be systematic differences that are not observable in these data between individuals who choose to participate in interviews about political identity and those who do not. Indeed, of the 40 participants interviewed, only two individuals were categorized as Type II, which raises concerns about the utility of the typology. This fact is itself informative: while 12 participants were coded as having a prideful or aggrieved interpretation of whiteness, only two of them expressed that in tandem with a psychological attachment to the white group. And importantly, those two respondents identified as Democratic partisans. This suggests that there is an aspect of socialization that may interact with partisanship, shaping how individuals who feel pride or grievance about their whiteness feel empowered to express these emotions. This distribution uncovers a nuanced dynamic in how aggrieved white individuals articulate their racial attitudes, which may be missed by conventional survey measures for white identity.Footnote 6 What appears to be a limitation actually highlights a phenomenon that may not otherwise be observed and can inform future studies. Nevertheless, the findings with regard to Type II respondents should not be taken to be representative of the broader population.
This research examines patterns of racial identification over time by focusing specifically on the processes through which individuals understand their identity rather than causal factors that influence political phenomena. The validity of inferences drawn is thus not rooted in statistical inference, but logical inference about a typology of white identifiers and how they understand identity when confronted with disruption (Small Reference Small2009). Additionally, the recruitment process meant some participants might know each other—or even know someone connected to me.Footnote 7 I took care in the analysis to identify patterns and limit conclusions to those derived from analyzing within-sample variation to avoid overemphasizing the inferences drawn from any single participant. This meant focusing not only on how individuals discussed their interpretations of whiteness and white identity, but also variations across participants. Given the small number of participants, the patterns identified here may not indicate all the ways that white individuals understand their identity. Caution should be exercised in extrapolating these patterns to different or larger populations.
Figure 1 shows the distribution of participants by type across the three rounds. Some level of attrition is to be expected in any longitudinal study, particularly one that requires active conversation and continued engagement over three years. It is possible that there are underlying differences between those who continued to participate through multiple rounds and those who did not that could influence how we understand variation in types of identity. For example, continuing participants may have had greater political knowledge or interest in racial politics relative to nonparticipants, which could mean that there are different types of identifiers not in this study. Indeed, the greatest level of attrition is among Type I identifiers between the first and second rounds of interviews, with a reduction of roughly 60%, which indicates that awareness among Type II and Type III may have driven continued participation. However, the relatively consistent rate of attrition across types, particularly between rounds two and three, suggests that political interest or awareness alone is not driving the choice to participate.
Figure 1 Distribution of Types across Interviews
Some concerns about attrition influencing the conclusions drawn in this article are assuaged by the interpretivist, rather than positivist, approach, and the information that can be learned from respondents declining to continue participating (Fujii Reference Fujii2017). Qualitative research can speak to a broader picture of how individuals experience and express their racial identities by centering individuals as reasoning actors with agency. This approach shows how individuals draw on contextual cues—whether from interviews, disruptions, or other heuristics like partisanship—to make sense of identity in a complex and shifting world.
White Identity in a Changing Context
Expectations
The research design described above allowed me to observe how diverse individuals responded to the same changes in political context over time. The first round, occurring in February and March of 2020, served as a baseline for the post-Obama era, when race was already chronically salient or highly accessible for many white Americans (Schaffner Reference Schaffner2011; Tesler Reference Tesler2012). In this round, I expected to observe variations in how individuals understand their white identity, with the salience of race being more prominent for strong white identifiers and less salient for those with lower levels of identification, consistent with the baseline column in table 2.
The second round of interviews took place following the murder of George Floyd and the sustained multiracial protests that began in the Twin Cities in response (Buchanan, Bui, and Patel Reference Buchanan, Bui and Patel2020). This political event was characterized by interracial solidarity, a surge in support for Black Lives Matter among white individuals (Parker, Horowitz, and Anderson Reference Parker, Horowitz and Anderson2020), and an increasing reflection on whiteness and white privilege (Rogo Reference Rogo2020). National discourse on social media shifted notably toward the Black Lives Matter movement’s agenda (Dixon and Dundes Reference Dixon and Dundes2020; Dunivin et al. Reference Dunivin, Yan, Ince and Rojas2022), and scholars observed sharp short-term declines in racial bias (Primbs et al. Reference Primbs, Holland, Maatman, Tessa, Faure and Bijlstra2024) and increased perceptions of anti-Black discrimination among liberal white Americans (Reny and Newman Reference Reny and Newman2021). This political moment had tangible effects on politics, from symbolic action like the removal of Confederate monuments (Green Reference Green2020; Johnson Reference Johnson and Griffith2024) to concrete voting behavior in the 2020 presidential election (Caren, Andrews, and Nelson Reference Caren, Andrews and Nelson2025; Klein Teeselink and Melios Reference Teeselink Bouke and Melios2025). These effects even spilled into the home as some white parents adjusted the way they talked to their children about race (Anoll, Engelhardt, and Israel-Trummel Reference Anoll, Engelhardt and Israel-Trummel2022; Reference Anoll, Engelhardt and Israel-Trummel2025).
The media coverage of multiracial protests, alongside the policy demands and implementations that emerged during this period, signaled a marked transformation in the psychological landscape. For research participants in this study, this transformation extended to the physical and social environment. The release and rapid circulation of the video documenting George Floyd’s murder precipitated an immediate public response: within hours, a makeshift memorial was erected near where Floyd was killed. By the following morning, thousands had assembled at the site to protest systemic police violence and racial injustice. Despite constraints imposed by the COVID-19 pandemic, demonstrations persisted for several weeks with tens of thousands joining, leading Governor Tim Walz to issue a temporary curfew.Footnote 8 Major transportation arteries were closed to vehicular traffic due to both protesters and property damage, and parts of the metropolitan area were patrolled by National Guardsmen and heavily armed law enforcement (Bakst Reference Bakst2020). For research participants in the Twin Cities reinterviewed in July and August, this period constituted a profound and inescapable shift in contextual conditions.
This period of time bears the features of what Hayward (Reference Hayward2020) describes as an epistemic disruption. First, actors “withdraw cooperation from an epistemic power relationship which enables motivated ignorance” (2020, 455) In this case, protesters withdrew cooperation with sustained white ignorance (Ahmed Reference Ahmed2007; Mills Reference Mills, Sullivan and Tuana2007), instead focusing attention on making whiteness visible and on destabilizing a racial order reliant on white invisibility and ignorance. Second, epistemic disruption “brings latent conflicts to the surface and forces members of dominant groups to take sides” (Hayward Reference Hayward2020, 458). The protests forced recognition of ongoing racial injustice that polarized in predictable ways as white Americans “took sides” (Engelhardt and Kam Reference Engelhardt and Kam2025). Third, epistemic disruption influences the political agenda and “enables subordinated actors to negotiate with the politically powerful” (Hayward Reference Hayward2020, 458). These negotiations can be projects that have been ongoing for decades, with disruption creating a fluidity in discussion of issues that was not there before. While immediate radical change resulting from George Floyd’s murder and the accompanying protests did not manifest, hundreds of state laws changed police oversight (Eder, Keller, and Migliozzi Reference Eder, Keller and Migliozzi2021) and the George Floyd Justice in Policing Act of 2021 passed the 117th Congress before falling apart in the Senate—evidence of an ongoing negotiation.Footnote 9
In this changing context brought on by epistemic disruption, I expected the salience of race to increase across the board as whiteness was made visible. Group identity was likely to become more deeply internalized, leading group members to conform more strongly to what they perceived as in-group norms (Ellemers, Spears, and Doosje Reference Ellemers, Spears and Doosje2002; Spears Reference Spears2021). For some, this context might result in “racial voicelessness” or a sense of threat regarding the perceived devaluation of white identity and the disadvantages associated with whiteness in discussions about race as the racial hierarchy was destabilized (Takahashi and Jefferson Reference Takahashi and Jefferson2021). For others it might present a political opportunity to express racial sympathy and solidarity with Black Americans (Chudy Reference Chudy2024) as they became aware of a political responsibility for supportive action (Hayward Reference Hayward2017). I thus expected to see increases in the level of white identification across the board, with a backlash effect among Type II identifiers and an increase in prosocial interracial behavior among Type III, as outlined in the disruption column in table 2.
While there were immediate shifts in racial attitudes and support for Black Lives Matter following the sustained protests of 2020, support for the movement attenuated by the end of the summer (Chudy and Jefferson Reference Chudy and Jefferson2021) and evidence of the impact on racial prejudice over time is mixed (Engelhardt and Kam Reference Engelhardt and Kam2025; Reny and Newman Reference Reny and Newman2021; Shuman et al. Reference Shuman, Hasan-Aslih, Van Zomeren, Saguy and Halperin2022). While “the Minneapolis city council seemed poised to ‘dismantle’ the Minneapolis Police Department and ‘transform’ public safety in the city” in the immediate aftermath of the uprising (Phelps Reference Phelps2024, 118), police reform efforts largely failed (Bates and Ross Reference Bates and Ross2022). The physical landscape of the Twin Cities bears some reminders: George Floyd Square, a monument to Floyd at the site of his murder, remains an important organizing space and place of remembrance.Footnote 10
The third round of interviews, conducted during the summer of 2023, demonstrated the temporal durability of changes in identity expression. By August 2023, the sociopolitical context was different. That summer, Donald Trump was brought up on criminal charges and the Republican presidential primary was heating up, bringing partisan electoral politics to the fore. The Supreme Court had recently rolled back affirmative action, a race-related issue that, while significant, was not broadly perceived as threatening to white Americans and thus not a destabilizing disruption. In contrast to 2020, formal political institutions rather than grassroots movements were dominating public discourse. In this round, I expected to see a decrease in the salience of race, particularly among those who initially had a lower white identity. I anticipated that those with higher levels of white identity in the first round would still exhibit higher identity in the third round. In contrast, those who experienced an immediate spike in identity salience because of the epistemic disruption in the second round would revert to a baseline of low identification. These expectations are outlined in the long-term column of table 2.
These expectations represent general patterns that should be observed but cannot account for all the variations in how individuals interpret their white identity over time. Furthermore, the conversational context may have influenced my evaluation of white identity, as respondents in subsequent rounds of interviews had developed familiarity with me as a researcher and the types of questions I asked, thereby influencing their perceptions of conversational norms (Thoits Reference Thoits, Serpe, Stryker and Powell2020). Yet familiarity is a benefit of this research design, enabling growing trust and ease of dialogue when speaking during a stressful and sensitive time. Examining these changes among individuals experiencing the same political and social context can enhance our understanding of how individuals experience and express their identity as they experience destabilization activated by epistemic disruption, and how they navigate disruption to achieve equilibrium.
Round 1: Baseline White Identity
The first round of interviews took place in February and March of 2020, before the COVID-19 shutdowns and the surge in public conversations about race following George Floyd’s murder in Minneapolis. While there are reasons to believe that racial identity may have been heightened during this time due to the persistent salience of race in politics (Tesler Reference Tesler2016) and previous instances of racialized police violence in Minnesota (Hargarten et al. Reference Hargarten, Bjorhus, Webster and Smith2020), these interviews established a baseline of white identity within the sample and facilitated the detection of identity patterns prior to a pivotal moment for analyzing contextual impact.
Type I (Low Awareness)
Of the 40 participants in the first round of interviews, 26 were coded as Type I white identifiers—individuals who exhibit low awareness of or attachment to the white racial group as part of their self-concept. This type is exemplified by respondents like Philip who said, “I mean, to me, race really doesn’t play a big part in [my life]. I am aware that there are different perceptions of treatment and things like that … the fact that I’m a white person, I don’t feel great pride or anything like that. I’m a human being.” Philip distanced himself from white identity by rejecting any sense of pride and using colorblind language, even as he acknowledged being treated or perceived differently based on his race—an interpretation consistent with Phinney, Jacoby, and Silva’s (Reference Phinney, Jacoby and Silva2007) characterization of “diffuse” white identifiers.
Similarly, Patti expressed a low level of white identity: “Being white never felt essential to my identity. I almost have that luxury because I didn’t experience negative things by virtue of being white.” Patti recognized the advantage of her ability to deprioritize white identity and defined her experience of whiteness by contrasting it to what it is not. This framing aligns with Knowles and Peng’s (Reference Knowles and Peng2005) characterization of whiteness as a default or “white-as-norm” identity.
Nathan also defined his whiteness relationally, saying that being white was not important to him “because I like other people who are different than me and […]Footnote 11 where it plays out is that other people see it as either a positive or a negative. I don’t see it that way because I make a real effort not to judge people.” Nathan’s reluctance to engage with the concept of his own racial identity suggests that he considered white identity negatively, asserting that his appreciation of people of other races contributed to his lack of strong identification with his own. However, Nathan used colorblind language to suggest that he saw neither whiteness nor other races, consistent with how Goren and Plaut (Reference Goren and Plaut2012) define “weakly identified” white individuals.
Some Type I white individuals used this same neutrality about whiteness to express opposition to minority claims for inclusion. Juliet, for example, expressed her opposition to Black Lives Matter by stating, “I don’t really think that skin color should be a part of our central identity. […] [T]here’s not a reason to have Black Lives Matter without actual oppression.” Her low identification with her own racial group led her to view race as an illegitimate basis for collective action among members of any race, even if their group position was different from her own.
While several Type I identifiers distanced themselves from white identity with assertions of neutrality or claims about low importance, others responded to inquiries about their identification and the role of whiteness in their lives with denial or outright hostility. For example, Richard reacted to a question about whiteness by saying, “When you ask me a question like that, frankly, my natural reaction, what a stupid question. What’s my whiteness have to do with that? I don’t know.” His response reflected hostility toward the very premise that being white impacted his life. Another respondent, Dave, similarly dismissed the relevance of whiteness to his identity, stating that he did not want to “fall down the slippery slope of identity politics.” He added, “There’s right or wrong that goes beyond race, and I think we’ve gotten to race-based and identity politics […] in this state, especially.” A strong Republican, Dave rejected the idea of white identity while acknowledging its salience in Minnesota’s liberal political climate. In a quantitative study, Dave might appear to have high white identity because of his views on racial politics, but his interview reveals how partisanship can shape the way individuals experience and articulate racial identification. Even in 2020, Republican elite discourse was opposed to “identity politics” that may constrain how Republican partisans engage with their own racial identity.
Overall, these responses are consistent with the definition of Type I white identifiers articulated in the literature. However, there is notable variation in how participants arrived at this position, ranging from passive neutrality to active resistance. Many respondents (e.g., Nathan, Juliet, Dave) exhibited a kind of “motivated ignorance” by not engaging with white identity politics and maintaining a sense of invisibility around race (Mills Reference Mills, Sullivan and Tuana2007). This variation suggests that while the typology presented in this article effectively captures broad patterns of white identity, it may obscure important differences in the processes through which individuals form and express that identity.
Type II (Disadvantaged Awareness)
In the first round of interviews, only two of 40 respondents were coded as Type II—that is, having both high identity and a prideful or aggrieved interpretation of group membership. These two respondents, Tim and Gary, may have shared some similarities in racial attitudes with respondents in Type I, like Dave, but actively filtered these attitudes through an interpretation of in-group identity. Interestingly, both respondents identified as Democrats, which suggests that partisanship influences how individuals understand their racial identity.
Tim indicated that being white was an important part of his identity, but expressed the idea of pride through grievance, saying, “[W]hen white people are discriminated against, there’s no way for them to speak up in defense of their own race because claiming white power or trying to rally and organize around whiteness is worse than Satanism.” This is consistent with Croll’s (Reference Croll2007) characterization of “defensive” and Goren and Plaut’s (Reference Goren and Plaut2012) characterization of “prideful” white individuals. Perhaps unique to the liberal culture of Minnesota, Tim expressed grievance about limits on being able to express pride. Tim’s racial attitudes were also filtered through this stance, stating that he opposed Black Lives Matter because “an organization centered around white identity […] people would call that racist.” Tim’s concerns demonstrate a sense of racial voicelessness or a perceived disadvantage in discussions about race that led him to take an oppositional stance (Takahashi and Jefferson Reference Takahashi and Jefferson2021).
Gary also used grievance to express his understanding of whiteness, reacting defensively to proscriptions of privilege and saying “white privilege is nothing compared to American privilege. The difference between whites and anybody else in America is nowhere near as stark as the difference between any American and the average person in the world.” While Gary recognized the benefits he enjoys as a white man, he downplayed them by comparing the US to other countries—a comparison that minimizes his own experiences of privilege as a white man. Highlighting his perceived lack of privilege, Gary saw Black Lives Matter as an identity-based cause, stating “I feel excluded from that movement. […] [I]t is perceived to be something mostly for Blacks, so it’s not clear how white people plug into that movement.” Gary’s understanding reflects a more defensive or foreclosed expression of white identity, consistent with Type II.
Type III (Advantaged Awareness)
In the first round of interviews, 12 respondents were coded as Type III—expressing a high level of white identity and an acknowledgment of their privileged status. Some respondents in the first round who exhibited higher levels of conscious identification with the white group framed their identity in terms of privilege, consistent with how both Knowles and Peng (Reference Knowles and Peng2005) and Goren and Plaut (Reference Goren and Plaut2012) characterize “power cognizant” white identifiers.
For example, Lisa acknowledged her privilege, saying of whiteness that “it just opens up doors and doors and doors, simply because of my skin color.” Similarly, Thomas explained that “as someone with white skin, I feel like people aren’t going to grill me, that I’m able to go into a lot of different spaces.” Lisa and Thomas both understood their white identity in relation to what it afforded them relative to other groups, similar to Type I identifiers, but this definition is imbued with a more progressive understanding of whiteness, consistent with how Type III identifiers are characterized in the literature (Cole Reference Cole2023; Croll Reference Croll2007; Phinney, Jacoby, and Silva Reference Phinney, Jacoby and Silva2007).
Jessica expressed a similar view of whiteness as something that made her able to behave with impunity relative to people of color, talking about a time that she carried a beer in a travel mug walking downtown. She expounded that whiteness is important to her identity, stating “I’m constantly trying to be and have an imagination about what it’s like to not be white. It helps to live in a really diverse community where I know a lot of people who aren’t white.” Jessica attributed the diversity of her local community—the Seward neighborhood of Minneapolis that is in Rep. Ilhan Omar’s Fifth Congressional District and houses a large Somali community—as essential to the development of her race consciousness. But she also expressed sympathy for white Americans who occupy a different socioeconomic status from her, stating “[I]f you’re white and poor, you’re probably feeling pretty close to the bottom of the barrel.” Jessica displayed power cognizance not only about her racial position, but about her class position as well.
Round 2: Epistemic Disruption
I reinterviewed 20 of the original respondents over Zoom in July and August of 2020, following the murder of George Floyd and amid an ongoing uprising that began in Minneapolis.Footnote 12 Consistent with the expectations outlined in table 2, I observed a nearly universal increase in the salience of white identity among respondents, though there was variation in how they expressed this identity against the backdrop of sudden changes in the social and political context that constitute an epistemic disruption.
Type I (Low Awareness)
In the second round, I reinterviewed 10 respondents who were coded as Type I and found that the salience of white identity had increased for many of them. For example, Katherine noted that the uprisings made her more aware of being white. Yet, consistent with characterizations of Type I white identifiers in the literature, she framed this awareness in relation to the experiences of racial others: “I’ve sort of lived [like] if I don’t have enough money at the checkout to pay my bill, I’m not humiliated, being stopped by the police of course. It’s just the things that we ordinarily take for granted that for somebody who is Black, sometimes they’re not.” Katherine’s reflection mirrors the first-round responses where whiteness is defined against racial minorities, but her example centers on policing that reflects the heightened salience of police brutality in 2020.
Other participants responded to the protests with active information-seeking behavior. Kimberly, for example, described how her white identity became more significant after George Floyd’s murder and led her to “grapple a lot with what that means in society” and engage in “a lot more reading, like with three other friends we’re going through a book together that we chose to challenge ourselves about all of that.” This collective learning is evidence of a heightened awareness that may even constitute a change from Type I to Type III, with Kimberly revising her understanding of whiteness as a result of epistemic disruption.
However, not all participants experienced a sharp increase in racial identity salience. Dan, for example, remarked, “I’m not part of the country clubs. I was not included in that. I’m kind of more at the coattails of it as opposed to the vanguard of it so I wouldn’t say that. I kind of would say, no, not really. I haven’t really thought anymore [about being white].” Dan distanced himself from privilege and expressed ambivalence about racial discourse, even declining to take a stance on Black Lives Matter: “[I]t’s not my nature to support or disapprove.”
Some Type I respondents declined to be reinterviewed specifically because they did not want to continue talking about politics in the shifted context. As Fujii (Reference Fujii2017) reminds us, such refusals can be analytically meaningful. For example, Sophia identified as politically independent in the first round but had antagonistic opinions about minorities and chose not to continue in the study. The change in context between the first and second rounds that led to emphasis on white privilege may have made her feel less secure in expressing her views, leading to her withdrawal. This kind of nonparticipation offers insight into how contextual shifts influence not only expressed identity, but also the willingness to engage in discussions of identity.
Type II (Disadvantaged Awareness)
Both Type II respondents from the initial round agreed to be interviewed again in the second round, which may be informative given their partisan identification. As Democrats, they may not have experienced the same sense of alienation from identity politics discourse that potentially discouraged participants like Sophia from continuing. In the first round, Tim expressed a sense of grievance tied to pride in his white identity, which shaped how he interpreted the increased focus on privilege in the summer of 2020. He described feeling as though “you’re the problem, like you are the one who is sitting on top of the pyramid keeping everyone else down,” reflecting discomfort with the discourse surrounding white privilege. This sentiment again reflects the concept of racial voicelessness, where white individuals feel disadvantaged in discussions about race (Takahashi and Jefferson Reference Takahashi and Jefferson2021).
Gary acknowledged his racial privilege, just as he had in the first round, but qualified it by emphasizing the disadvantages faced by poor white communities: “[A] lot of poorer whites in Appalachia have gotten a lot of [disadvantage], too.” Given the existence of these poorer white Americans, Gary argued that race-conscious policies, such as making reparations to the descendants of slavery, “don’t make sense.” Gary’s response illustrates a deflection of responsibility, where his recognition of racial privilege was accompanied by a demand for equal attention to white suffering.
Type III (Advantaged Awareness)
In the second round, I spoke with eight respondents who were coded as Type III identifiers in the initial round of interviews. Several of these individuals engaged in information-seeking behaviors in response to the racial justice protests and increased salience of white identity. Like Kimberly (Type I), Rachel reported reading Robin DiAngelo’s 2018 book on race relations, White Fragility, with her entire family and “thinking a lot more about what it means to be white in America.” Both Kimberly and Rachel were prompted by the uprising to reflect more deeply on their white racial identity and to interrogate privileges that may have previously gone unnoticed, suggesting that the process of disruption and destabilization can lead individuals to different modes of understanding.
The second round of interviews further revealed how there is variation even within types of white identifiers. While Rachel responded to the shifting racial context through introspection and education, Jasmine’s heightened awareness of privilege propelled her to engage in political action and racial solidarity. She recounted participating in the protests in Minneapolis, saying “[A]fter the first few days of the big, strong, more aggressive or violent or destructive reaction, I was just out on the streets every day or every other day.” Her political action stemmed from a supportive political stance and a sense of cross-racial solidarity. Jasmine reflected, “Maybe I’m naive, but I feel like we’re in this kind of bubble of privilege and whiteness where we live, so I wasn’t truly worried […] being at rallies and marshaling, I like to make sure to put my bike between me and the car over the person.” Through her protest participation, Jasmine not only acknowledged her racial identity but also felt a responsibility to use her privilege to help others, engaging in an embodied act of solidarity (Hayward Reference Hayward2017).
This round of interviews particularly illustrates that the content of white identity expression shifted in tandem with national conversations about white privilege, influenced by the ongoing epistemic disruption. However, key differences remained in how individuals identified and expressed this identity. The context brought variations in how people interpreted their identity—as a privilege or a burden—into sharp relief. For Type II respondents like Tim and Gary, the protests triggered defensiveness and feelings of exclusion, consistent with a more foreclosed and grievance-oriented understanding of whiteness. In contrast, Type III respondents like Jasmine demonstrated a more progressive or power-cognizant interpretation of whiteness, using racial identity as a basis for solidarity and action. These divergent responses underscore the importance of context in shaping both the salience and meaning of white identity.
Round 3: White Identity in the Long Term
In August 2023, three years after the original interviews took place, I reinterviewed 12 of the original participants to determine how meaning making adapted or regressed as the epistemic nature of the disruption faded. This follow-up offered an opportunity to assess how the importance and expression of white identity evolved over time in response to shifting political and social conditions and observe different patterns of how individuals process an epistemic disruption in the long term.
Type I (Low Awareness)
In the final round of interviews, I spoke with seven individuals who had initially been coded as Type I identifiers. In the changing context, several of these respondents demonstrated low white identity. For example, Chad stated, “I don’t think [my race] has any particular significance.” No longer inundated with discussions about race and privilege in the news and social media, Chad did not express any meaningful identification with whiteness as it became invisible once more. However, Chad reluctantly acknowledged his Democratic partisanship, noting that “it’s overbearing every day.” This suggests that partisan identity, rather than racial identity, was a more useful heuristic for Chad and was more chronically salient and accessible based on the changed context.
Mary similarly expressed low white identity, saying “I walk through this world not as a white person, but just as a person. I would think that it doesn’t define me, but it is who I am.” Despite having participated in a racial awareness training through her employer, Mary engaged in motivated ignorance to resist identifying as white in a changed context. This may be indicative of individuals downplaying their white racial identity for purposes of social desirability or having exaggerated their racial identity in the second round due to different contextual social pressures. Chad’s and Mary’s responses highlight one pathway of working through epistemic disruption by reverting to the comfort of white invisibility. These responses also suggests that individuals who continued to participate in the final round of interviews were not necessarily more attuned to racial politics than those who did not.
Adam, who had previously exhibited a low identification with whiteness, offered a more conflicted reflection: “I think it’s an important part of like … I think it shaped my identity. […] I feel like I want to say [it’s not important], but I don’t think that would be the truth.” Adam’s response revealed discomfort with openly claiming white identity, even as he acknowledged that it is important to his self-concept. Adam’s experiences revealed another pathway where whiteness remains visible even as disruption fades. These responses illustrate that while the events of 2020 heightened the salience of white identity, there are variations even within Type I as to how individuals make meaning around their whiteness in the long term.
Type II (Disadvantaged Awareness)
For the final round of interviews I was unable to get in touch with Tim, leaving Gary as the sole Type II respondent available for follow-up. Insights drawn from one individual should be interpreted with appropriate caution. In this round, Gary acknowledged his privilege—something that was frequently discussed in the summer of 2020—while justifying its use in professional settings: “[W]orking at a big law firm […] most of my clients are white males. And, you know, they feel more comfortable being around a white male.” This suggests that Gary viewed his whiteness as a source of privilege and as a practical asset in navigating professional environments.
However, Gary also expressed grievance about his position in regard to affirmative action, saying “I think as a white male, [...] it’s been harder, and it’s been easier to succeed,” which is particularly notable given the recency of the Supreme Court Fair Admissions ruling.Footnote 13 His response reflected a continued defensiveness toward race-based initiatives, framed through a lens of perceived fairness and inclusion. This positioning is consistent with the anti-diversity orientation typical of Type II identifiers, where opposition to policies like affirmative action is not necessarily rooted in denial of privilege, but in a belief that such policies unfairly disadvantage white individuals. Gary’s continued frame of grievance illustrates that although his language changed to recognize white privilege, he still understands whiteness as something that provides disadvantages.
Type III (Advantaged Awareness)
In the final round, I spoke with four respondents who were originally coded as Type III identifiers. For these individuals, the events of 2020 had clear and lasting ramifications, particularly in terms of increasing their awareness of their white identity and the significance of race in politics. Rachel recalled that her “family engaged in conversations about race, which we don’t do as much on a familial level anymore.” But despite the decline in discussions about race, she noted, “I see myself as being like a version of myself before and after.” This sentiment was echoed by Kimberly, who stated, “I’m conscious now; I wasn’t for much of my life, but that is, you know, a factor that just allows me a lot of freedom.” Kimberly was coded as a Type I identifier in the first round, but her responses in the second and third rounds indicate a growth in awareness of privilege that is consistent with Type III. Rachel and Kimberly are similar in how they understood the epistemic disruption as raising race consciousness and responsibility to engage in racial solidarity.
Robert also demonstrated sustained reflection on whiteness, describing it as a privilege in relation to the experiences of racial others: “[W]hen I wear a coat and tie, people look at me very different than if I’m a person of color in, you know, hand-me-down clothes, quite frankly.” John similarly related his whiteness to relative privilege and highlighted it with the example of police brutality, saying that “if I had been George Floyd, I’d be alive today, probably. And so, how can you not recognize the privilege that you have and discrimination that others feel every day?” For Type III white identifiers in this study, the racial reckoning of 2020 prompted enduring shifts in how they understood their racial identity and especially their white privilege. In contrast to Rachel and Kimberly, John and Robert represent a different pathway, reverting to a recognition of whiteness and less action-oriented support for racial justice.
Tracking Individual Changes
To better understand the patterns of identity transformation, I further explore the individual-level changes observed in three participants (Will, Gary, and Rachel) across all three rounds of interviews in table 4. Each participant generally represents one of the types outlined in table 1. Will is a Type I, characterized as “weakly identified” with whiteness (Croll Reference Croll2007; Goren and Plaut Reference Goren and Plaut2012), exhibiting diffuse or low consciousness (Cole Reference Cole2023; Phinney, Jacoby, and Silva Reference Phinney, Jacoby and Silva2007), and perceiving whiteness as a norm or baseline (Knowles and Peng Reference Knowles and Peng2005). Rachel and Gary both had higher levels of white identity compared with Will but diverged in their expressions of that identity. Gary is a Type II, characterized by a higher awareness of white identity, which he held for prideful or negative reasons (Cole Reference Cole2023; Goren and Plaut Reference Goren and Plaut2012), and a tendency toward defensiveness or foreclosed behavior regarding the identity status (Croll Reference Croll2007; Phinney, Jacoby, and Silva Reference Phinney, Jacoby and Silva2007). Rachel is a Type III, also characterized by a higher level of identity awareness, but she expressed this identity in a more progressive (Croll Reference Croll2007), positive (Cole Reference Cole2023), or power-cognizant manner (Goren and Plaut Reference Goren and Plaut2012).
Table 4 Individual Changes
In the first round, Will, Gary, and Rachel exhibited varying levels of white identity consistent with the expectations outlined in table 2. Will expressed a low identification as white (“It’s not really a big topic for me”), as did Rachel (“I’ve kind of been unaware of it”), although she recognized the importance of being white in how she is treated, and the privilege of being able to not think about it. Gary articulated a stronger connection to whiteness coupled with grievance (“You can’t publicly feel good about it”). Despite these differences, the overall salience of white identity was low across all three participants, reflecting the pre-uprising context.
Following the 2020 uprising, all three respondents acknowledged an increase in the salience of white identity. Will discussed the privileged status of being a straight white male but did not integrate this awareness into his political identity. This response reflects exposure to discourse about privilege without a corresponding shift in identification. Consistent with expectations for Type II and Type III white identifiers outlined in table 2, the contextual shift of the uprising affected Gary and Rachel differently. Gary’s reaction reflected discomfort and defensiveness as he interpreted racial discourse as accusatory, saying “[B]eing associated with privilege makes me feel bad.” In contrast, Rachel described reading White Fragility with her family and reflected more deeply on her racial position, indicating a growing awareness of whiteness embedded within privileged social structures.
By the third round, the salience of race in public discourse had diminished, yet all three respondents expressed some level of white identity reflecting the lasting impact of 2020. Will maintained a low level of identification, consistent with Type I expectations, but acknowledged his privileged status: “As a straight white male […] no one’s bothering me for anything.” This suggests that while whiteness remained peripheral to his self-concept, the language of privilege had become part of his interpretive framework.
While Rachel described being white as her “default” in both the first and third rounds of interviews, she acknowledged the advantages afforded by her race and viewed it “as a big part of who I am.” Rachel made a conscious effort to understand her group position after the uprising, internalizing this group identity along with a norm of acknowledging privilege and advantage.
Gary also acknowledged “coming from a position of privilege” in the third round, using language that had previously caused him discomfort. While he qualified this recognition by referencing affirmative action (“I see both sides”) his tone was more neutral. His earlier discomfort with racial discourse evolved into a more measured stance, suggesting a partial integration of privilege into his identity framework, chipping away at a sense of grievance. Although Will, Rachel, and Gary experienced the same shifting context over the three years of this study, their expressions of white identity evolved in distinct ways, shaped by their initial identity orientations and their interpretations of sociopolitical change.
Discussion
This article contributes to our understanding of variations in how white Americans make sense of their racial identity and the importance of race for their lived experiences, offering insight into how individuals navigate the meaning of whiteness under conditions of epistemic disruption. Drawing on three rounds of in-depth interviews, the findings support existing scholarship suggesting that white identity is not monolithic or exclusively tied to defensive in-group pride (Cole Reference Cole2023; Croll Reference Croll2007; Goren and Plaut Reference Goren and Plaut2012; Knowles and Peng Reference Knowles and Peng2005; Phinney, Jacoby, and Silva Reference Phinney, Jacoby and Silva2007). Type I identifiers exhibit diffuse or low racial consciousness and view whiteness as a default. Type II identifiers express a stronger psychological connection to the racial group, often interpreted through a lens of pride or grievance. Type III identifiers have a high awareness of racial privilege and engage with whiteness through a more critical and justice-oriented lens.
However, these types do not necessarily remain static: interviews confirm that identity is often shaped by social interactions and contextual shifts (Burke Reference Burke1980; Foote Reference Foote1951; Stryker and Serpe Reference Stryker, Serpe, Ickes and Knowles1982). For example, Rachel (Type III) and Kimberly (Type I) described engaging in conversations about whiteness with family and friends that influenced their evolving understanding of racial identity. Kimberly exemplifies this fluidity: while she initially expressed detachment from whiteness, her sustained information-seeking behavior suggests a deliberate effort to interrogate her racial position. By the third round, she articulated a more critical and privilege-aware understanding of whiteness, consistent with Type III. Adam (Type I) similarly demonstrated a persistent shift in the visibility of his whiteness, acknowledging its influence on his self-concept even as he struggled with discomfort around embracing a white identity. His ambivalence suggests that while epistemic disruption can prompt increased racial awareness, the process of internalizing and expressing that awareness is not uniform across individuals. These cases suggest that epistemic disruption can catalyze meaningful and lasting changes in racial identity, particularly when individuals actively engage with new ideas and social norms over time.
Findings also suggest that changing context can influence how individuals express their identity: the language of “white privilege” became increasingly common following the 2020 uprising and was embedded in the mainstream racial lexicon by 2023. In the final round of interviews, respondents frequently mentioned privilege, though often superficially. For example, respondents like Gary (Type II) remarked, “I mean, I’m privileged,” and Robert (Type I) noted that “privilege is one thing, obviously,” acknowledging the term without engaging with its implications. This shift suggests that while privilege has long been an element of white identity expression (Branscombe, Schmitt, and Schiffhauer Reference Branscombe, Schmitt and Schiffhauer2007; Knowles et al. Reference Knowles, Lowery, Chow and Unzueta2014), it became a nearly universal framework for expressing white identity, even among those with weak identity.
Resistance to identifying as white, as demonstrated by Dan in the second round and Mary in the third, suggests that self-image also shapes expressions of white identity (Tajfel Reference Tajfel1981). For some, identifying with the white racial group evokes guilt or undermines perceptions of political achievement, prompting a distancing from whiteness (Knowles et al. Reference Knowles, Lowery, Chow and Unzueta2014). This suggests that the desire to maintain a positive self-image may lead some individuals to deidentify from their racial group.
Quantitative empirical research would call for an assessment of potential alternative explanations, especially partisanship and social desirability. A majority of the original sample identified as Democratic, which may have influenced their interpretation of whiteness as privileged and contributed to reflexive support for Black Lives Matter in 2020 (Drakulich and Denver Reference Drakulich and Denver2022). Conversely, Republican-identifying respondents may have downplayed their white identity in response to prevailing political narratives (Zhirkov and Valentino Reference Zhirkov and Valentino2022). As a result, social desirability may have encouraged some respondents to emphasize their white identity in the second-round interviews and retreat from it in the third. This presents an alternative, though not contradictory, explanation: while identity expression appears to be influenced by context, genuine identification remains stable. This observation aligns with the core findings of this article, which suggest that identity expression is shaped by what is understood to be socially desirable within different contexts.
This article contributes to a growing body of social science research that uses interviews to study public opinion. Qualitative methods offer unique insights into how individuals conceptualize identity and process shifts in context, and interviews allow researchers to identify emergent patterns in how individuals perceive their racial identity and how they reason through disruption. While the evidence presented in this article focuses on white Minnesotans, the insights can be translated to other contexts and different disruptions (Simmons and Smith Reference Simmons and Smith2025). The theory generated in this study provides a basis for further quantitative inquiry, especially as patterns of resistance to white identification expressed alongside recognition of racial group membership suggest that current survey techniques may underestimate the prevalence and importance of white identity. Understanding how white identity changes dynamically in response to events like the 2020 uprising and how these patterns fluctuate in the long term can ensure that future survey research on white identity poses the right questions using the applicable language best understood by white Americans.
Conclusion
Several years after the 2020 pandemic and the uprising following the murder of George Floyd—an epistemic disruption bringing questions of racial justice to the fore while making whiteness visible—white identity politics remains relevant, although certainly less salient for individuals’ political decision making and social scientists’ understandings. Trump’s initial victory in the 2016 US presidential election was attributed to numerous complex and intersecting phenomena, including the importance of white identity and group threat activated by an escalating minority presence in the social and political halls of power (Blankenship and Stewart Reference Blankenship and Stewart2019; Jardina Reference Jardina2019; Jardina, Kalmoe, and Gross Reference Jardina, Kalmoe and Gross2021; Major, Blodorn, and Blascovich Reference Major, Blodorn and Blascovich2018). These factors remained relevant during the 2020 election (Agadjanian and Lacy Reference Agadjanian and Lacy2021; Buyuker et al. Reference Buyuker, D’Urso, Filindra and Kaplan2021). However, in 2024, the reasons for Trump’s resurgence included perceived candidate authenticity (Levy and Tien Reference Levy and Tien2025), populist identification among voters (Brieba and Velasco Reference Brieba and Velasco2025), and fundamental issues like the economy, which swung the vote in favor of the Republican Party (Enns et al. Reference Enns, Colner, Kumar and Lagodny2024). Despite the Democratic ticket being led by the first Black woman to serve as a presidential candidate, the issue of white identity politics was conspicuously absent from the core explanations for the 2024 election cycle.
This article suggests a possible reason for the evolving explanations: the social and political context shifted profoundly between these three election cycles, and the salience of white identity shifted along with it. These shifts in context do not mean that white identity is no longer important for American politics. Rather, as this study shows, white identity is contextually activated and expressed in varied ways. It may lie dormant until activated by moments of heightened racial tension or epistemic disruptions, such as the murder of George Floyd, when racial discourse becomes central to public life. These disruptions can impact how individuals understand and express their identity, and how they make sense of perceived threats or stressors associated with the disruption.
This article demonstrates that there are critical differences in how white identity matters for individuals, even those experiencing the same context, and that these differences may intensify in the face of contextual shocks. But this nuance in how identity is expressed suggests that a quantitative method of studying public opinion cannot by itself capture the variations in how people identify or the nuance in how they express their identity. Even within a highly educated, liberal, metropolitan area at the epicenter of an international racial reckoning, participants exhibited wide variation in how they interpreted and expressed their white identity. That some individuals embraced their white identity with a prosocial ideological interpretation while others took a more defensive stance is consistent with recent literature and has important implications for the future of intergroup relations in American politics. Future studies should continue to unpack this variation and complexity using both qualitative and quantitative tools.
Supplementary material
To view supplementary material for this article, please visit http://doi.org/10.1017/S1537592725104167.
Acknowledgments
I would like to dedicate this article to the loving memory of Matthew John Cole. I am thankful to Genevieve Bates, Andres Uribe, Joe Soss, Mackenzie Israel-Trummel, Avi Ahuja, and the editors and anonymous reviewers for invaluable feedback; to the University of Chicago Center for the Study of Race, Politics, and Culture for financial support; and to my interlocutors for their generous participation in this research.
Data replication
Data replication sets are available in Harvard Dataverse at: https://doi.org/10.7910/DVN/TUVGWG
Open access
