Friday, June 19, 2015

“Allies can no longer be silent”



It’s been many months since I’ve written anything in this blog. I’ve started several times only to give up. Do I really have anything worth saying? My mind has been clogged with grading, planning, buying a new home, traveling. Not enough time to focus, not enough leisure to let the thoughts take shape.

But now, Charleston. Nine black people murdered in cold blood by a white supremacist shooter, who was given a gun by his father as a birthday present. IN A CHURCH, during a Bible study. And the perpetrator had been sitting in their midst, a latter-day Judas. He reloaded, too, so it’s not like he was doing this on some kind of impulse.

This would be horrible enough. But it comes after a long, all too long, series of murders of other black people, mostly by white people in positions of power. Ferguson is the best known of these. Yes, mental illness apparently played a role in this case. But it’s so much more comfortable for most white people to talk about mental illness than about race, and we can’t let this event slide off into an easier discussion of one single issue. It’s about mental illness, yes, and about gun control, both very crucial issues. But race appears to be the biggest motivator when the shooter is alleged to have said “You rape our women and are taking over our country”. 

I’m going to write about race, because to be silent any longer is to be an accomplice to genocide. I know why many white people are silent. It’s because we’re afraid of putting our foot in our mouth. We want to say the right thing. We don’t want to hurt anyone. We want to appear enlightened. We want to be liked. We want to say things like ‘I’m colorblind’ or ‘Race doesn’t matter’. But enlightenment takes work. I’m going to put myself out there no matter what frogs will pop out of my mouth (and feel free to point them out to me) and talk about some of the things I believe when it comes to race.

(I’m going to talk about racism against blacks specifically in this post, but much of what I say is applicable to other people of color.)

1. I believe you can’t and shouldn’t be colorblind. Color matters, and it’s part of your history, part of your identity. You may not attach a lot of significance to race, but you’d better believe the black person you are looking at has suffered because of it, and in such a case, it’s an insult to say you’re colorblind. It means you’re not recognizing the oppression and suffering that person may have endured – whether or not you were the cause of it.

2. I believe people are biologically prone to noticing differences. Our ancestors needed to be able to discern who belonged to their own tribe and who was an enemy. I believe we still have this reaction. I feel a kind of shock whenever I see a very black person. I don’t think I should be ashamed of this. What I SHOULD be ashamed of is if that reaction leads me to treat that person as less than human. If you grow up among people of many different races, it’s possible you don’t feel that shock – but I didn’t. I grew up in a very white area and had a grandmother in Cleveland, which is the only place I ever saw black people. She would pull me close to her side if we were walking down the street and a black person was approaching, and she would always say something about ‘coloreds’ afterwards. Grandma’s reaction is probably in my hard wiring. 

Let’s be honest about our ‘biological racism’ – if we have it – while at the same time acknowledging the damage it can do if it isn’t admitted and dealt with in a sane and rational matter rather than by concealing it behind platitudes.

3. I believe white privilege exists, and it exists whether you live among black people or not, and it matters whether you live among black people or not. I’ve heard this reaction: “White privilege? I’m on welfare. I am not privileged.” Well, yes, you are privileged if you have white skin, at least in the US. You can walk into a grocery store and find the hair products you need. Your children see people that look like them on television all the time. Etc. You can Google ‘white privilege’ to get the whole list. Stop thinking you’re not privileged. You are.

4. I believe white people should go through some race-sensitivity training, whether they think they need it or not. (And I assume people of color need it as well, but that’s not my business.) I didn’t think I needed it. But I did. I was fortunate to be a public-school teacher for seven years, where diversity training is mandatory. I started out smirking at it. After all, I’m a smart woman with a Yale PhD. I’m empathetic and thoughtful. What could these administrators teach me just because they are people of color? Oh, my face is so red thinking about that misguided feeling of superiority.

But I learned so much. This is the one that changed my life in terms of understanding racial equity issues: http://www.edequityoregon.com/equity-3/taking-it-up/. There are many more out there.

In this particular training, we were put into small groups, and each one was led by a person of color. Our guide was trying to tell us that Arnold Schwarzenegger was probably from a black family because of his last name, and of course I was seething about that. I focused on that bit of misinformation to convince myself that this guy didn’t know what he was talking about. But then. We got to ask any question we wanted. The one that was burning in my mind was this: “I go through these trainings and feel like I’m the accused without having done anything just because I’m white. Why don’t you just TELL me what to say and do?” This lovely man, with infinite kindness and patience, said, “Why is that my job?”
 
Wow. Imagine that: you are a black person with a bunch of white friends. Imagine that your friendship consisted not of engaging in activities you all enjoy but of being constantly asked by your well-meaning white friends, “Does that hurt black people?” And these well-meaning white friends are thinking, “Aren’t I a nice and considerate friend?” Imagine having to work 24 hours a day at being THE representative for all black people, everywhere, who obviously would have one and only one reaction to any given stimulus. No. That’s not what friendship is. Friendship is the white people figuring out how to make the black friend feel part of the group without asking for instructions, and seeing that person as their friend, with individual quirks and feelings, not the representative of all blacks everywhere.

Which brings up another anecdote, told by the diversity studies teacher at our school. He was in the grocery store one day and, I kid you not, a man came up to him to ask for his help in picking out a watermelon. This teacher patiently told the man what to look for, and afterwards asked him if he understood what he had just done. The white man seemed clueless. However, the teacher said that although his first impulse was to clock the guy, he decided to use it as a teachable moment. Hopefully the white guy left the conversation knowing more than just how to pick a good watermelon. So black friends can tell you a lot – but don’t put them in the role of constant teacher.

5. I believe white people need to help end racism no matter where they are or how much contact they have with black people. White people have had economic, social, political, and every other kind of advantage for hundreds of years in the US. We can’t now say “Oh, but the laws have eliminated discrimination.” or “Affirmative action is reverse racism.” or “I have a lot of friends of different colors.” We need to be active allies to help make up for those hundreds of years. We need to talk about race, read what black writers have to say, follow the news, donate to organizations like the Southern Poverty Law Center or the ACLU or whatever your research tells you is best. We need to stop tiptoeing around, afraid of offending people and speak our hearts, humbly and with receptivity to being corrected and contradicted. We have to do this now. There is so much to worry about in the world – the environment above all, but also unrest in Russia and North Korea and the Middle East – to be killing our fellow citizens and widening the race gulf is suicide. It doesn’t matter if you live in a very white area of the US. This is your issue, too.

There it is – my imperfect ‘credo’ on racism. I’m a middle-aged white woman with few black friends,  woefully ignorant in so many ways. My blind spots are many, but I’m willing to work towards enlightenment. And I’m grateful for the graciousness and patience of people of color who have helped me along the way. 

I still have to figure out what I’m doing living in perhaps the whitest country in the world when I’m a white American and an ally to blacks. I promise I will do my best to figure that out.

© 2015 Kathy Saranpa