What exactly is R.E.S.E.T. ?
(R)eflect ⇢
(E)ducate ⇢
(S)tep Up ⇢
(E)nlist ⇢
(T)rain ↺
R.E.S.E.T. is an organic framework for combating racism, created specifically for white people. Once the veil is lifted and you begin to see how deeply racism is woven into everything — literally everything — there’s no unseeing it. There’s no turning back.
The practices in this framework move in parallel with whiteness and white supremacy as they evolve, adapt, and mutate day by day.
It’s not a static checklist or a one-time awakening. It’s a living, breathing process built specifically for white folks who are ready to confront the system they benefit from, disrupt the patterns they’ve inherited, and stay in the work long after the hashtags fade.
This framework isn’t about theory alone — it’s about action. R.E.S.E.T. offers structured guidance, real-world tools, and grounded checkpoints to help white people stay accountable in their anti-racism journey.
Whether you’re just starting out or have been in this work for years, the goal is the same: to face the truth, stay in the fight, and commit to ongoing transformation without needing applause to keep going.
The RESET Framework isn’t about perfection, and this site isn’t about performance. It’s about staying in it, showing up differently, and choosing accountability over comfort. If this resonates with you, you’re not alone. You’re part of something bigger now. Welcome — we’re glad you’re here, and we’re doing this together.
Reflect (Inward)
This work begins with reflection — not surface-level pondering, but deep, often painful excavation. It requires white people to look inward and confront the identity they’ve inherited, not just the one they’ve chosen. That means asking hard questions about your beliefs, your upbringing, your silence, and your participation in a system designed to center and protect whiteness — even when you didn’t realize it. It’s where denial ends, and discomfort begins.
For many, this stage triggers cognitive dissonance — that mental collision between the person you thought you were and the systems you now realize you’ve been upholding. That clash can feel overwhelming. Some people crash out here. They retreat, they rationalize, they weaponize tears or defensiveness. This is where white fragility shows up — not because you’re weak, but because whiteness has conditioned you to believe discomfort is danger. Reflecting inward strips that illusion away.
But this is also the moment that builds the foundation for everything else. If you can sit in the tension — resist the urge to run, explain, or fix — and actually face yourself, you’re doing something many never do. This isn’t about shame. It’s about clarity. It’s the first honest step toward becoming someone who doesn’t just feel like a good person — but acts like one in the face of injustice.
Educate (Yourself)
You cannot dismantle what you don’t understand. After reflection, the next critical step is self-education. This is where you begin unlearning the lies you were taught — and the ones you were never taught at all. For white people, education in a white-centered world often means you’ve been given a sanitized, selective history. That’s not an accident. It’s by design. Educating yourself means seeking out truth from voices that have been silenced, erased, or villainized — especially Black, Indigenous, and other people of color.
This step isn’t just about reading the “right” books or watching documentaries. It’s about listening without centering yourself. It’s about letting go of the need to defend your intentions and instead confronting the impact of your ignorance. The urge to jump in and “help” before fully understanding the harm is strong — but premature action without knowledge often causes more damage than doing nothing at all. Sit with the learning. Let it change how you think, how you speak, how you show up.
And most importantly, do not expect BIPOC to teach you. This step is yours to own. There is no shortcut through it — no syllabus that makes it easy. The discomfort you feel here is the cost of being shielded from the truth for so long. Pay it. Stay with it. This is where the roots of accountability start to form.
Step Up (Stand In It)
Once you’ve reflected and begun to educate yourself, you’re faced with a choice: stay quiet and complicit — or step up and stand in it. This is where anti-racism becomes public. It’s the shift from internal understanding to external accountability. It means speaking up when racism shows up in your family, your friend group, your workplace. It means interrupting harm even when your voice shakes. It means risking comfort to show up with integrity.
But this is also where the stakes get higher. Because once you start taking action, you also become more dangerous — not to the system, but to the people you’re trying to stand with. When your words or actions aren’t grounded in reflection and real understanding, they can come off as performative. Or worse — they can do actual harm. This isn’t about walking on eggshells, but it is about treading deliberately. You’re not here to be the hero. You’re here to be accountable.
And when you mess up — because you will — stepping in also means staying in. Apologize without deflecting. Learn without centering yourself. Keep showing up. This step isn’t about being loud or performative; it’s about being reliable. It’s about moving from theory to action, even when it costs you something. Especially when it costs you something.
Enlist (a Support Group)
You can’t do this alone. And you shouldn’t try. Anti-racism isn’t an individual achievement — it’s a collective responsibility. This step is about surrounding yourself with people who are also doing the work. Not cheerleaders. Not comfort-givers. But people who will hold you accountable, challenge your blind spots, and call you in when you mess up. Especially other white people. If you’re only engaging with BIPOC voices for education and validation, you’re still centering yourself in their space instead of being responsible in your own.
White accountability spaces are crucial. They’re where you process your guilt, unlearn in public, practice courage, and build the resilience to face discomfort without collapsing. It’s where you learn to talk to other white people — because if you can’t challenge your racist uncle or your progressive-but-passive coworkers, then what exactly are you learning for? This step is where allyship becomes partnership. It’s where humility meets discipline.
Enlisting support doesn’t mean finding people who agree with you — it means finding people who are just as committed to truth over comfort. People who can spot when you’re coasting. People who will remind you that the work doesn’t stop when it gets hard, or boring, or inconvenient. This is your practice field. Where you can openly make mistakes and immediately learn what you did wrong. If unpacking is where this work begins, support is what keeps it alive.
Train (Others)
This work doesn’t end with you. Once you’ve reflected, educated yourself, taken action, and built community — it’s time to pass it on. Not as an expert. Not as a savior. But as someone who’s further along and committed to bringing others with you. Training others means modeling what accountability looks like. It means mentoring without ego, teaching without domination, and creating spaces where others can learn without fear — just like you once needed.
This is not about building a following. This is about breaking the cycle. Systems of oppression rely on silence and amnesia. When white people commit to teaching each other — especially within their own circles — we interrupt that cycle. We plant different seeds. Whether it’s in your workplace, your school, your neighborhood, or your home, this step is where you move from being changed by the work to becoming a channel for it.
Training others doesn’t just mean teaching the next generation — it means reaching people of all ages. Some of the most important conversations you’ll ever have will be with your peers, your parents, your mentors, your elders. You’re not too young to lead, and they’re not too old to grow. This work transcends age. Whether you’re helping a teenager unlearn inherited bias or challenging a grandparent to see the world through a new lens, each interaction becomes part of the larger shift. Anti-racism isn’t a youth movement or an old folks’ reckoning — it’s a lifelong re-education that we all have a role in carrying forward.
“I'm not saying I'm gonna change the world, but I guarantee that I will spark the brain that will change the world.” ― Tupac Shakur