Two weeks ago, when I subbed, a black male student said something interesting that I have not been able to stop thinking about.
It was during morning announcements when the white male principal was talking about the upcoming state assessments. He repeated himself at least twice about the students showing what they know, working hard, etc.
The student, who was standing near me, said, "Why does he keep talking?"
When I asked him what he meant, he said, "He just keeps talking nonstop."
The student then mentioned his social studies teacher who talks nonstop.
I have been in this social studies teacher's classroom with this student, and the teacher does talk forever. He lectures the class, gives them work that is entirely too hard for them, and refuses to take suggestions from the ECE teachers who have tried to get him to modify the work so that students can be successful. He is never prepared for class, which gives students entirely too much time to start talking, which he then lectures them about.
It is painful for me to be in the class, so I can't imagine how much it sucks to be a student in there day after day.
Perhaps it was the blend of hearing this student's words and reading Homegoing by Ya'a Gyasi, which is about colonialism in Ghana and slavery, that made me realize for the very first time:
Brown-skinned people are probably very sick of listening to white people yapping at them in the same way that, as a woman, I get tired of groups of men yapping at me about what I should do or think and making legislative decisions for me that they cannot possibly understand in an "I've been there" kind of way.
The recent Starbucks and Colorado State University situations, and now Yale University situation in which a black student had the police called on her for sleeping, makes me ashamed to be white. It has made me more aware of what thoughts go through my head whenever I am with brown-skinned people.
One of the things I think about is that I don't have to think about my skin color, usually ever. I don't have to think about how others will perceive me when I walk into a store or a restaurant.
Another thing I think about is whether I think someone is a threat just because they are brown-skinned.
A couple months ago, D and I were taking a walk in our neighborhood. We saw a black man with a package walking along with a confused look on his face. I asked him if I could help him, not because he was black, but because he looked lost. He was trying to deliver a package, so I told him where those neighbors lived. The entire time this was going on, inside my head, I was asking myself, "Did you ask him if he needed help mostly because he looked confused or mostly because he is black?"
I feel like as a white person, I second guess my intentions because of the other white people who see a brown-skinned person and automatically feel threatened (for reasons I can't fully understand).
The recent slate of 911 calls by white people makes me think of the old lady busybodies in neighborhoods, who stare out their windows and know what their neighbors are doing at all times. On the one hand, it is good to be aware, but individuals (regardless of their color) also have the right to be left.the.hell.alone.
I feel like I'm fairly aware of my own prejudices (although I also recognize that I probably have some that I'm not aware of).
I know for a fact that I make a concerted effort to help black students when I sub, and maybe this, in itself, is prejudiced. I do not do this because I think black students are dumber than white students. I do it because I feel strongly that they are ignored more often than white students. If I can do something to remedy this, in whatever minuscule measure I can, I do it. Plus, I feel like if I am helpful and compassionate in whatever capacity I can be, it helps them see that not every white person feels threatened or overreacts or paints all brown-skinned people with large strokes.
Last summer, our neighbors had a happy hour, and one of our black neighbors came (I think this was the first time ever.) He was sitting with everyone, but I felt that no one was making an effort to engage him directly or pull him into the conversation (it felt a little cliquey), so I did.
From my perspective, I wanted to include him, but I wonder sometimes whether that was perceived as me gushing over him (although I don't think I really give off that gusher vibe), which I know white people do sometimes with brown-skinned people in an effort to make them feel welcome, which usually results in them feeling weird and even more "outside" the circle than they might have felt.
It is very possible to know brown-skinned people, have brown-skinned friends or colleagues, and still have feelings of prejudice, even if you aren't aware of those feelings. I have a hard time understanding how anyone can say things like, "I didn't own slaves, so I think we've moved beyond that."
Blame it on reading books, but I very much see how the impacts of travesties linger for generations upon generations. Even if slavery ended in 1865, Jim Crow laws didn't. Brown versus Board of Ed was 1954, and the Civil Rights Act was in 1964. Those are not quite two, possibly three, generations in the past.
Due to the current political climate and the propaganda about how dangerous the US is (despite what the facts are), white people feel scared like every brown-skinned person is a threat waiting to happen.
I had to laugh when the woman who called the police on the Native American kids at Colorado State said something like she could tell they were lying when she asked them what they were going to study. My first thought was, "YOU ARE A STRANGER TO THEM SO WHAT BUSINESS IS IT OF YOURS WHAT THEY ARE GOING TO STUDY IN COLLEGE?"
Maybe those boys reacted strangely to her because they didn't feel like it was any of her business to question them? Maybe they could tell that she felt uncomfortable and was feeling them out which made them feel uncomfortable? Did she ever think that there are differences in how people communicate whether it is due to personality or culture? I don't necessarily speak to my 10-year-old the way I speak to an adult colleague, and teenagers don't speak to their friends the same way they do their teachers, so why would this woman think everyone speaks the same way she does?
There are an awful lot of white people living in a bubble of whiteness that is dangerous to brown-skinned people. Unfortunately, these bubbles also hurt the white folks because they miss out on a whole lot of understanding and relationships.
It was during morning announcements when the white male principal was talking about the upcoming state assessments. He repeated himself at least twice about the students showing what they know, working hard, etc.
The student, who was standing near me, said, "Why does he keep talking?"
When I asked him what he meant, he said, "He just keeps talking nonstop."
The student then mentioned his social studies teacher who talks nonstop.
I have been in this social studies teacher's classroom with this student, and the teacher does talk forever. He lectures the class, gives them work that is entirely too hard for them, and refuses to take suggestions from the ECE teachers who have tried to get him to modify the work so that students can be successful. He is never prepared for class, which gives students entirely too much time to start talking, which he then lectures them about.
It is painful for me to be in the class, so I can't imagine how much it sucks to be a student in there day after day.
Perhaps it was the blend of hearing this student's words and reading Homegoing by Ya'a Gyasi, which is about colonialism in Ghana and slavery, that made me realize for the very first time:
Brown-skinned people are probably very sick of listening to white people yapping at them in the same way that, as a woman, I get tired of groups of men yapping at me about what I should do or think and making legislative decisions for me that they cannot possibly understand in an "I've been there" kind of way.
The recent Starbucks and Colorado State University situations, and now Yale University situation in which a black student had the police called on her for sleeping, makes me ashamed to be white. It has made me more aware of what thoughts go through my head whenever I am with brown-skinned people.
One of the things I think about is that I don't have to think about my skin color, usually ever. I don't have to think about how others will perceive me when I walk into a store or a restaurant.
Another thing I think about is whether I think someone is a threat just because they are brown-skinned.
A couple months ago, D and I were taking a walk in our neighborhood. We saw a black man with a package walking along with a confused look on his face. I asked him if I could help him, not because he was black, but because he looked lost. He was trying to deliver a package, so I told him where those neighbors lived. The entire time this was going on, inside my head, I was asking myself, "Did you ask him if he needed help mostly because he looked confused or mostly because he is black?"
I feel like as a white person, I second guess my intentions because of the other white people who see a brown-skinned person and automatically feel threatened (for reasons I can't fully understand).
The recent slate of 911 calls by white people makes me think of the old lady busybodies in neighborhoods, who stare out their windows and know what their neighbors are doing at all times. On the one hand, it is good to be aware, but individuals (regardless of their color) also have the right to be left.the.hell.alone.
I feel like I'm fairly aware of my own prejudices (although I also recognize that I probably have some that I'm not aware of).
I know for a fact that I make a concerted effort to help black students when I sub, and maybe this, in itself, is prejudiced. I do not do this because I think black students are dumber than white students. I do it because I feel strongly that they are ignored more often than white students. If I can do something to remedy this, in whatever minuscule measure I can, I do it. Plus, I feel like if I am helpful and compassionate in whatever capacity I can be, it helps them see that not every white person feels threatened or overreacts or paints all brown-skinned people with large strokes.
Last summer, our neighbors had a happy hour, and one of our black neighbors came (I think this was the first time ever.) He was sitting with everyone, but I felt that no one was making an effort to engage him directly or pull him into the conversation (it felt a little cliquey), so I did.
From my perspective, I wanted to include him, but I wonder sometimes whether that was perceived as me gushing over him (although I don't think I really give off that gusher vibe), which I know white people do sometimes with brown-skinned people in an effort to make them feel welcome, which usually results in them feeling weird and even more "outside" the circle than they might have felt.
It is very possible to know brown-skinned people, have brown-skinned friends or colleagues, and still have feelings of prejudice, even if you aren't aware of those feelings. I have a hard time understanding how anyone can say things like, "I didn't own slaves, so I think we've moved beyond that."
Blame it on reading books, but I very much see how the impacts of travesties linger for generations upon generations. Even if slavery ended in 1865, Jim Crow laws didn't. Brown versus Board of Ed was 1954, and the Civil Rights Act was in 1964. Those are not quite two, possibly three, generations in the past.
Due to the current political climate and the propaganda about how dangerous the US is (despite what the facts are), white people feel scared like every brown-skinned person is a threat waiting to happen.
I had to laugh when the woman who called the police on the Native American kids at Colorado State said something like she could tell they were lying when she asked them what they were going to study. My first thought was, "YOU ARE A STRANGER TO THEM SO WHAT BUSINESS IS IT OF YOURS WHAT THEY ARE GOING TO STUDY IN COLLEGE?"
Maybe those boys reacted strangely to her because they didn't feel like it was any of her business to question them? Maybe they could tell that she felt uncomfortable and was feeling them out which made them feel uncomfortable? Did she ever think that there are differences in how people communicate whether it is due to personality or culture? I don't necessarily speak to my 10-year-old the way I speak to an adult colleague, and teenagers don't speak to their friends the same way they do their teachers, so why would this woman think everyone speaks the same way she does?
There are an awful lot of white people living in a bubble of whiteness that is dangerous to brown-skinned people. Unfortunately, these bubbles also hurt the white folks because they miss out on a whole lot of understanding and relationships.
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