Tag: Ibram Kendi

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Are you working for racial justice? How?

I’d like you to reflect on a racially just America.

What would it look like? What would you see — in your neighborhood, on the news, at your workplace, in your child’s school? Think about the steps/strategies/tactics necessary to get there. Now, sit back. Relax. Reflect on these questions for a few minutes. Is an action plan forming in your mind or are you already engaged in this work?

Some folks have told me that they’re working for racial justice by volunteering at a local foodbank (or another social service agency) or by tutoring disadvantaged children.  I used to cringe, silently, when I heard that. Not anymore. Now comments like those are a conversation starter.

America has a rich, and necessary, history of volunteerism.  During economic downturns and times of human need, donations to foodbanks, for example, and volunteers to hand out food are critical. These actions keep people alive.  When we look at food lines, depending on the location, we often see people of color disproportionately represented. While donating and assisting at the multitude of agencies assisting people in need is an important service, this is not racial justice work — even if those sites primarily serve Black and brown people.

The work is important. It is lifesaving. It is humane. It simply isn’t work for racial justice. It doesn’t change, or help to change, the racial imbalance.

Racial justice work would prompt you to consider: why do Black and brown people predominate among the needy in many communities? What are the conditions and circumstances that create this level of disproportionate need? What am I doing to change those conditions and circumstances?

Thinking about those questions might still lead you to see your work as a tutor as racial justice work. Tutoring –> better grades –> college  –> good career opportunities –> a level playing field.  If only we lived in a meritocracy in which this trajectory was real, but studies have proven that this is not the case for many, if not most, Black and brown people in America, and those differential outcomes start early in a child’s life.

So why do some people see strategies like those as working for racial justice? Just because the beneficiaries are Black or brown, is that it? It certainly feels good to volunteer. But, in some situations, I also see a negative side. Volunteering in social service or education programs clearly positions the haves and the have nots. While it may not be in the forefront of thinking, subconsciously, could there be some feeling of superiority? If the children are underprivileged? Are you overprivileged? You have the financial resources. They don’t. You have the academic credentials. They don’t. How does volunteering at the foodbank address the employment conditions that contribute to food insecurity? Does tutoring change educational systems or hiring practices? I know the response: It helped that family. It helped that child. Yes. Just don’t call it work for racial justice.

In racial justice work, there are allies and advocates, partners and collaborators, but there are no haves and have nots. Everyone is equal, bringing their perspectives and strengths to the table.  This is the model of mutual aid societies in which all members bring something supporting the needs of others. Each gives and each receives. Assets, not deficits, are the driver. Mutual aid, not charity.

So, for those truly interested in racial justice work, I offer two resources. Corrine Shutack’s article listing 75 ways in which white people can support racial justice went viral in 24 hours and continues to grow as new ideas are added. It along with Ibram Kendi’s How to Be An Antiracist are two of the best guides. But you don’t need those resources, not really. Just look around you – your neighborhood, your child’s school, your workplace. If you deeply reflect on what is contributing to racial injustice in some aspect of your world, you’ll see your role in changing that. It is in the accumulation of multiple actions by many people that leads to the societal change necessary to achieve a racially just America.

Again, my intent is not to diminish or devalue volunteering at social service organizations or working to improve educational outcomes for children. I simply want to underscore what actually contributes to racial justice. As Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr said, “Philanthropy is commendable, but it must not cause the philanthropist to overlook the circumstances of economic injustice which make philanthropy necessary.” The service of the volunteer – their “philanthropy” – is often a stop gap, albeit valued and valuable, measure to solve an immediate,  individual need, not an effort toward correcting a societal wrong. Those working for racial justice look well beyond immediate need, to examine why those needs exist in larger numbers among Black and brown people and then work to change those circumstances. That’s racial justice.

 

 

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White people, there is so much to gain.

If you’re reading my blog, you’re probably among those fighting for racial justice, some at the macro-level of societal transformation, others working for enhanced understanding among family. Or maybe you’re just beginning to recognize and reflect on the depth, breadth, and impact of racial injustice.

Regardless, here is my question. What drives you: wanting the oppressed to have a greater opportunity or wanting to free the oppressor?  To my White readers,  today I want to call this out: True racial equity will bring significant benefits … to you.

You’re accustomed to hearing racial justice advocates  speak of the needs of the oppressed: lost opportunities, lost potential, a focus on ‘lesser than’ statistics, such as home ownership or educational outcomes. Tangible data is compared across races.  And by that data, the White population is better off than communities of color, on multiple fronts.  Because of this, the racial equity battle often focuses solely on gains  needed for the oppressed.

But, White people, have you ever reflected on what you will gain?

First, your own psychological well-being. You have to believe, to some degree, that Black and brown people are more criminal or less enterprising, for example, to accept their overrepresentation in prisons and underrepresentation in places of academic and financial success.  Noted author and activist James Baldwin suggested that White America needs to believe in Black pathology to justify what has been, and continues to be, done and to alleviate any obligation to fix the true problem.  Yes? No? Is there cognitive dissonance, a disconnect between what you say you believe (everybody has a fair chance) and what is the allowed reality in America?

Now to history. What has been lost to White people by not fully understanding our country’s history? As more comprehensive explanations of historical ‘facts’ are revealed, are you looking more critically at your heroes, at the foundation of America? Are you considering what/who supported your ancestors’ or immediate forbearers’ ability to pull themselves up by their bootstraps? Did they really do that? “Pull themselves up by their bootstraps,” I mean? No supportive government programs? Think about the GI Bill or preferential housing or unconstrained banking policies. No help from families or social networks better positioned to offer help?  How is your authentic sense of self affected? Is there some internal alignment that needs to happen to make your world view/your familial context more coherent with truth?

Then just one more thing. There has been a lot of attention given to the value of diversity in the workplace. Problem-solving, research has shown, benefits from different viewpoints, people with varying experiences of life. Varied thinking and cultures are enriching, not limiting. If this is true in the workplace, why would it be different in friendship groups or neighborhoods? What is missed by having racial homogeneity in so many parts of your life?

The balance of assets and societal power is unequal. That is true, but adjusting that imbalance doesn’t make anyone a loser. Everyone wins. We all win if fewer resources are used, for example, to imprison, freeing up more to support asset building, the true provision of quality education for all, clean water everywhere, or medical research. Who loses if more Black or brown people can purchase homes, building their wealth and ability to contribute even more to our country’s economic viability?

I know there is an intangible benefit to resolving the internal moral or psychological battle among some in the White community.  There is significant inherent value in embracing the humanity and worth of all people. And there is tangible value to more people contributing to the common good.

As I write this, I realize I am struggling to find the right words. I can’t make the case as eloquently as I would like. Still, I know that the deficit model of fighting for racial equity is neither the full story nor the best strategy. Self interest is a powerful motivator.  You must fight for racial equity as a benefit to the oppressor and to the oppressed. As Ibram Kendi has said if you aren’t fighting against racism, you are a part of the problem, a part of what is causing all of us to lose. Racial equity is a win for everyone.

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Equity—Not Equality—In a Post-Coronavirus America

“It’s just not fair.”

You don’t hear that only from your kids. It comes from adult friends and family, too. We all seem committed to a level of fairness that, well, just isn’t fair… not really.

I write this Daughters of the Dream blog as my way of revealing racial truths, at least racial realities, as I see them. These “truths,” like the myth of fairness, might be overlooked if not pointed out.

The current situation with coronavirus offers many stark examples of these “truths” covered by a veneer of fairness. I will look at just two: health care and economic viability. Just a 4 minute read. Then let me know — any “aha” moments or did reading it prompt a different/expanded perspective?

Many have said that COVID-19 shows no preference for race, gender, or income status. All—any of us—can get it. Well, that’s true, and by that measure, it is fair. However, we now see that susceptibility to the disease and treatment for the disease really is not.

Headlines reveal that race-specific data isn’t always collected. But when it is, it shows more African Americans are dying from the disease. Race-based treatment of African-Americans in the health care system and more deadly outcomes isn’t new. Stories from slavery reveal experimentation on humans that rivals Josef Mengele in Nazi prison camps. In the 1930s, African-American men in Alabama thought they were part of a research project to determine the impact of different treatments for syphilis. But their disease went untreated, and the test continued for decades. Most will know the name of Henrietta Lacks, whose cells, taken without her permission in the 1950s, form the basis of many medical breakthroughs and treatments today. But few will know the name of Sterling Matthews. A 60-year-old diabetic, cancer survivor, told in late March 2020 he had pneumonia and sent home by a suburban hospital in my hometown, Richmond, VA. He died a few days later after finally being diagnosed with coronavirus.

Our pain thresholds are perceived as higher, and the value of our lives seems to be lower. This isn’t just historical. It’s not in the past, it’s ongoing. This is now. Is it fair? No.

The perception is the disease affects all equally, but that isn’t true. African-Americans are more susceptible because of a higher incidence than their white counterparts of asthma, hypertension/heart disease, and diabetes, the main conditions that the World Health Organization state place a person at highest risk for coronavirus.

It’s. Just. Not. Fair.

Stimulus checks. Everyone with an individual income of less than $75,000 will get $1200 in the next few weeks. On the surface, this appears fair, right? Everyone is getting the same amount. No money to the rich. Good. This makes sense.

If you have a regular job with the State of Virginia, your paycheck has continued during this crisis. Now you are also getting $1200. Fair? What if you are a self-employed hairstylist paid based on customers coming into that now-closed shop? Or a restaurant wait-staff employee who must survive from tips no longer coming in? All making less than $75,000/year. Fair?

According to the Economic Policy Institute (EPI), there is a considerable racial distinction in who earns what they call poverty wages, hourly wages that would place a person below the federal poverty line if he/she were the sole wage earner for the family. 2017 data shows that African American workers are 1.5 times more likely to be earning what EPI refers to as poverty wages than their white counterparts. LatinX workers are 1.8 times more likely than whites to be earning poverty wages.

So, is the blanket provision of $1200 to all with incomes under $75,000 fair? No, it is equal.

It’s. Just. Not. Fair.

According to many surveys of American values, equality is second only to individualism as what defines us as Americans. That needs to change. Equity, not equality, must become the new watchword for America. We must realize that we aren’t all starting in the same place. One size does not—and never has—fit all.

We now have the opportunity to reshape our country in so many ways. Coronavirus has placed us on pause. What can we do in the post-COVID-19 America that will help to address some of the inequities that exist?

I wish I had answers and not just some insights and a few questions. I know the individualism that America celebrates, that pull yourself up by your bootstraps mentality, isn’t true. Everyone who has achieved a level of success has had help. Sometimes for a single generation, but it is often multi-generational support that has bolstered a family. America must become more focused on helping those who haven’t had the opportunities or who haven’t been able to avail themselves of those opportunities. The solutions are out there. Probably—hopefully—developing in the minds of those with a much higher pay grade than mine. It will take the collective thinking of economists, educators, social scientists, community organizers, and working folks to define the problems and the barriers fully and then craft a new America. It can be done.

The. Time. Is. Now.

 

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Three Steps to Racial Healing: REVEAL| Reflect | Recalibrate

“There is no shame in not knowing; the shame lies in not finding out.”

— Russian proverb

 

In last month’s Daughters of the Dream blog, I shared my thoughts on America’s lack of readiness for racial healing. It’s not that I don’t want us to heal. I do. But I believe there are a series of stages for that healing to occur. As I said then, “Racial healing is a process, not an event.” I offer my process suggestions in three—hopefully, easily digestible—steps shared this month. Look for the posts on my blog about every 10 days. Here’s the first:

Step One: Reveal

Most of us have only seen America from the vantage point of white America (either because you are white or because our country’s educational and media experiences are dominated by the white perspective). Our knowledge of race and racial injustice is cursory.

This was revealed powerfully in an episode of the TV game show, Jeopardy when all of the categories, but one, in the double jeopardy second round had been entirely answered. Remaining on the board—untouched—was African-American History. This was a special episode of the show; the contestants were all college students. Even America’s best and brightest were not ready for this category because little in their education had adequately prepared them. And—this is important—the episode wasn’t from the 1960’s, the early days of the show. This happened in 2014.

Revealing our lack of knowledge and correcting that deficiency is the first step toward healing.

There must be a comprehensive and deep understanding of where we are and how we got here if we are to heal. If you are ready for a deeper understanding, I commend to you the following three books and a recent mini-series to start your learning journey:

  • Stamped from the Beginning by Dr. Ibram Kendi. Kendi is a Professor of History and International Relations at American University and the Founding Director of the University’s Antiracist Research and Policy Center. The subtitle of his book is “The Definitive History of Racist Ideas in America.” Dr. Kendi comprehensively reveals the historical origins of racist beliefs in a way that most of us have never heard. Be prepared, he is thorough!
  • The Color of Law by Richard Rothstein. Rothstein is a research associate at the Economic Policy Institute. The subtitle of his book is “A Forgotten History of How Our Government Segregated America.” When one thinks about how much is attached to where we live (see my April 2019 blog, Home) along with Rothstein’s revelations on the intentionality of the federal government in ensuring disparate living areas, we can better understand different life outcomes, by race.
  • Remembering Slavery edited by Ira Berlin, Marc Favreau, and Steven Miller. This book, subtitled “African Americans Talk About Their Personal Experiences with Slavery and Emancipation” presents stories told by formerly enslaved people during the 1920s and 1930s to HBCU students from Fisk University, Southern University and Kentucky State University and to researchers from the Federal Writers’ Project during the New Deal. Like Jewish people who proclaim “Never forget/never again” to implore society to never forget the atrocities that happened to their people, this book reveals slavery, through first-person remembrances, a perspective that few know today, a truth that we should never forget.
  • When They See Us is a 2019 Netflix mini-series co-written and directed by Ava DuVernay. It captures the experience of five young African-American men falsely accused of rape, their treatment when the crime occurred in 1989, how the media portrayed them, how the public reacted, their imprisonment, and their exoneration years later when the real rapist confessed. This is an age-old story grounded in the perceived purity of white women, the bestiality of black men, and their lust for white women, that unfolds within a biased and structurally racist criminal justice system.

When you read or view these resources, you may notice that they are hard to watch or to comprehend fully at first. Take time. Read and re-read. Make yourself watch the difficult parts of the mini-series. Is it hard for you to believe that someone would confess to a crime they didn’t commit? Is it hard for you to believe that a private citizen responded by spending $85,000 for an ad in a major New York City newspaper calling for the death penalty? What leads both to take the actions they did? Can you see the layering of prejudicial messages that Kendi traces over centuries that can culminate in the Central Park Five or in the segregationist policies that Rothstein unveils? Do you believe the stories that the formerly enslaved people tell or do you think they are misrepresenting or exaggerating that experience? I hope you will take the time to get in touch with your thoughts and your feelings and think about what contributes to them.

The learning, however, must go beyond a personal level if there is to be real healing for our country. A short reading and viewing list is entirely inadequate to address 400 years of the African-American experience. We must include the study of our racial history in the core curriculum of every elementary, middle, and high school in America. Research has shown that preconceptions and biases based on race emerge at very early ages. We must address those consciously, with structured, well-developed curricula, in school. Then, we must embed a more in-depth study of structural racism and implicit bias into the curriculum of colleges and universities at both the undergraduate and graduate levels. We must graduate leaders who can see where we are as a country and who know how we got here so they can lead us to a place of racial equity.

The depth, breadth and impact of racial inequity must be revealed if we are to heal as a society.

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Check back on August 14th (or subscribe so the blogs come directly to your inbox) to learn about what I see as step two: Reflect. But, in the meantime, please add your reading and viewing recommendations in the comments section of this post. What has opened your eyes to a racial reality that was unseen?

 

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