CHAPTER 1: HOW TO BE WHITE (AN INTRODUCTION, UNFORTUNATELY)
In which we establish that this book is satire, everyone should relax, and no one is getting a certificate at the end.
Let’s get this out of the way right now:
This book is not about how to become white.
There is no test.
There is no membership card.
There is no orientation video where someone named Greg explains lawn etiquette.
If you’re looking for instructions, you’re already missing the point.
This book is about white culture — specifically the suburban variety — the kind built on rules no one remembers agreeing to, conversations that mean nothing, and an unshakable belief that if everything looks fine, then everything is fine.
It is an observational guide.
A field manual.
A nature documentary narrated by someone standing too close to the animals.
First, A Disclaimer (Because White Culture Loves a Disclaimer)
Before we continue, please understand the following:
This book is satire.
If you are offended already, it gets worse.
If you are not offended at all, congratulations — you probably live in an HOA.
If you’re white and angry, please take a deep breath and consider that this book was written by someone who knows the call of the leaf blower.
No one is being attacked.
Everyone is being observed.
Mostly with love.
Somewhat with side-eye.
What Do We Mean by “White Culture”?
White culture, in this context, is not about race in the academic sense.
It’s about vibes.
It’s about:
Suburban neighborhoods with identical houses but wildly different opinions
The belief that silence is awkward and must be filled immediately
The idea that “community” means knowing your neighbors’ dogs but not their names
A deep, emotional attachment to lawn care and bulk purchasing
It’s about control.
Or at least the appearance of control.
Why I Am Not the Expert You Expected
I do not live in a house with a lawn.
I do not own a leaf blower.
I do not receive newsletters about trash pickup changes.
I live in a fifth-wheel RV where:
The walls are thin
The problems are loud
And “home improvement” means “does it still function?”
This makes me uniquely qualified to observe suburban white culture the same way an anthropologist observes a ritual they absolutely do not understand but find fascinating.
From the outside.
With notes.
The Suburban Starter Pack
If you’re wondering whether you already participate in white suburban culture, here are a few diagnostic questions:
Have you ever said, “We really needed this rain”?
Do you own at least one object whose sole purpose is seasonal decoration?
Have you discussed grass height with another adult without irony?
Have you ever gone to Costco “for one thing” and blacked out near the checkout?
If you answered yes to two or more of these, congratulations.
You are already enrolled.
The Central Myth
At the heart of white suburban culture is a powerful belief:
That if you follow the rules —
Mow the lawn.
Wave politely.
Bring the right dish.
Don’t park there.
— then chaos will stay away.
This is, of course, a lie.
Chaos does not care about your grass.
Chaos does not respect HOA bylaws.
Chaos will arrive anyway, usually in the form of a broken appliance or an awkward conversation at the grocery store.
But the belief persists.
And it’s kind of beautiful.
Why This Book Exists
This book exists because:
These rituals are funny
These habits are absurd
These people are doing their best
And no one has ever written a field guide explaining why grown adults lose their minds over trash cans
We will cover:
Lawns
HOAs
Costco
Small talk
Seasonal obsessions
Domestic enemies like fitted sheets
And the quiet terror of being asked to “bring something”
Not to mock —
But to understand.
And maybe laugh a little.
Okay, a lot.
One Last Thing Before We Begin
If at any point while reading this book you think:
“Wow, this feels very specific.”
Yes.
That’s intentional.
And if you think:
“Hey, that’s me.”
Even better.
Welcome.
You’re among friends.
Please keep your hands inside the cart at all times.