Impartiality Is Not Tokenism

The Apostle Peter experienced a profound epiphany after receiving a direct commission from God to seek out the Roman army officer Cornelius. In Acts 10:34–35, Peter declares: “Now I truly understand that God is not partial, but in every nation the one who fears Him and does what is right is acceptable to Him.”

In that moment, Peter realized that God does not judge individuals by outward appearance—race, nationality, social status, or any external marker. This revelation was so significant that, in 61 C.E., God inspired the Bible writer Luke to record it for future generations. God clearly believed that this truth—if read and reflected upon—could expand human perspective and challenge deeply held prejudices.

But how far have we really come? Have we moved forward at all?

For much of my life, I misunderstood what impartiality truly meant. For thirty-three years, I believed impartiality and tokenism were synonymous. According to the Oxford Dictionary, token is defined as “a thing serving as a visible or tangible representation of a fact, quality, or feeling.” We often give flowers or pastries as tokens of appreciation—symbols meant to communicate gratitude or care.

On the surface, the word seems harmless. Yet, because of racism and implicit bias, token has taken on a deeply harmful meaning. Rather than representing appreciation, tokenism has been weaponized to soothe consciences—used as a substitute for accountability and self-examination. Instead of confronting prejudice, people point to a person as proof of their supposed impartiality.

I can name this so clearly because I lived it.

I was the Black friend white students pointed to and said, “I’m not racist.”

I was the Black friend who laughed at racist jokes to reassure others that racism was “funny” or harmless.

I was the one who absorbed constant implicit biases—about my intelligence, my music preferences, my romantic choices, and my worth.

For years, I believed that enduring these moments meant I was living out Acts 10:34. I thought that by allowing racist thoughts and behaviors to pass unchallenged—by letting them harm me—I was helping others practice impartiality, just as Peter had.

What I learned in my thirty-fourth year is this: impartiality and tokenism can never be the same thing.

My name is Briana. I am a thirty-four-year-old African American woman. I grew up in DeWitt, a town adjacent to Syracuse, New York—though I often wrote Syracuse on envelopes and applications, trying to simplify my identity for others. From kindergarten through high school, I was educated entirely in DeWitt, where I was one of the few Black students in a small private school.

Over thirteen years, I internalized deeply negative beliefs about Blackness—beliefs reinforced through institutional harm from both teachers and peers. These experiences are ones I continue to unpack in therapy. And to answer the questions people often ask: no, I was not adopted by a white family.

It took thirty-four years—and extensive therapeutic work—for me to fully recognize how pervasive racism had been in shaping my self-perception. My “whitewashed” upbringing conditioned me to overlook implicit bias and dismiss racist remarks as normal, harmless, or even deserved.

But God’s impartiality was never meant to require my erasure