He needs the forge, hammer, and anvil of experience that can temper and rework his understanding of what it means to be human. Situating himself such that this is possible and allowing himself to be vulnerable enough to make that happen is on him:
It is important for whites to enter not only situations where they are one of the only ones, but also to challenge themselves to interact directly with the people of color around them. It is not enough, for example, for a white person to attend an all‐black church service and sit quietly in the last row, only to exit as soon as the service ends. Just recently, we spoke with a white person who attended an emotionally gripping film on slavery sponsored by an African American organization. When the movie ended, she left immediately instead of staying for the question/answer session that followed. Initially, she said she had “things to do and didn’t have time to stay.” Upon greater reflection however, she admitted she was uncomfortable staying and facing what she feared would be the rage and pain of the black people. She stated, “I was afraid they would see me as the only white person there and all the fury that must have been triggered by the movie would come pouring out at me.” By exercising her privilege to “leave the scene,” she missed the most crucial part of the experience which involved facing the black people whose rage and pain she feared, and finding ways as a white person to tolerate the discomfort this created in her. [Laszloffy & Hardy, 2000]
The problem is that the racist’s mindset is ego-systonic; they do not perceive their views to be a problem, so they are highly unlikely to seek help. Even then, help explicitly as such is nonexistent. As racism within the individual isn’t a mental disorder but a localization of a societal problem, there is no identified therapy in the mental health sphere—though, as the authors point out in the paper linked above, a family therapist may not be a bad place to start.
