Life in the Middle Lane

I recently went to a lecture on race relations.  As one of 3 people of color in the room, It was hard not feeling like a fly in the buttermilk.  On the other hand, I reminded myself that these required diversity lectures and race awareness stuff isn’t necessarily for me.  There for the 30+ white people who may or may not have very much experience dealing with people who do not look like them.

 I spent most of the lecture bouncing between unease, nonchalance, and boredom until nearly the end of the lecture.  As she wrapped up her speech, the lecturer asked the audience to talk among ourselves about the myriad policy implications of American race relations.  At first, I resigned myself to sit back and listen to what the white people had to say.  (I find that I can often learn more by listening than speaking).

 However, I love my classmates and I don’t want them going out into the world thinking and saying stupid stuff because one of the few examples of diversity in the classroom refused to get involved and speak up.  So I joined the conversation and asked them to look around the auditorium and see the 3 black students in the room.

 Be aware of white privilege: I reminded them that our building is full of pictures of old white men; that the university was built on racism and slavery; that we have only one professor of color on staff at MPA School.  I asked them to think about how it might feel to constantly be a minority in an environment that (based on the previous description) doesn’t seem to value people that look like you. I want them to go out in the world appreciating and seeking out diversity.

I told them what it was like to be me.  In both academic and workplace settings, I am often the only black person in the room.  I get a little excited that Old Navy commercials have black and white mannequins. And I smile when I see the same Pantene commercial with a white and black girl.  I’ve walked into interviews and seen the slightly shocked faces of interviewers. I can fairly assume that they weren’t expecting a black girl.  I told my classmates that sometimes I feel like the defender of all Black people, everywhere and that I sometimes feel that I should be careful of what I say because someone may attribute my attitude to all Black people.

 The virtue of white privilege is never having to think about race.  Every day something happens to remind me of my race.  Not in big overly racist ways.  It’s subtle. Like in class when someone says something about “gentrification” or “low-income neighborhoods”, and everyone turns and looks back at me.  Or when a class presenter shows a powerpoint presentation full of little poor black and brown kids, and smiling happy white kids.  Couldn’t find ONE happy brown kid, could ya?

That sh*t pisses me off.

Race is still an issue. It’s not something that we should or can ignore.

In the lecture, someone asked, Since Barack Obama was elected president, aren’t we now living in a post-racial world?

 *my thought bubble: Uhm, no.

The lecturer rightly asked what does post-racial mean.  The student said something about being colorblind. 

Colorblind? Really?  Is there something wrong with noticing someone’s race? I don’t think so.

Should we strive to be colorblind?  I think not. We should acknowledge race and move on!  Not seeing race is like not seeing the booger that someone has in their nose or the pimple in the middle of your forehead.  The more you try not to notice, the bigger and nastier it gets.

 Being colorblind suggests that we should overlook our differences.  I disagree.  I think we should embrace our differences. 

When I enter a new situation, I like to look around and find the person that is the least like me and befriend them. (I often find myself sitting and cutting up with the old white men or little Asian ladies). 

I love cities like Boston or Miami or San Francisco, where there are SO MANY different kinds of people.  I’m not just talking about racial diversity. I love it when I walk down the street and I can’t understand all the languages that are being spoken, or none of the restaurants that I see serve hamburgers and french fries, or when I people-watch and the fashion styles of the people that I see are “weird”.   Weird and different indicate that I’m going to learn something new.  Someone is going to broaden my horizons.  And that makes me happy.

Should we be colorblind? Hell NO! We shouldn’t fear or overlook the ways that we are all different.  We should appreciate and nurture those differences.  If we are to create something fresh and new and different, we should not ignore the ways our differences come together.

My sister is attending an HBCU and she loves it– now, at least, thank goodness.  She had the hardest time when school first got started.  She had trouble (and still had trouble) getting responses from advisors, financial aid, admissions- basically everyone a student might need to get in touch with.  I remember when she was applying to colleges; she went through the ringer with HBCUs. Lost information, misinformation, no communication- lots of problems.

 I don’t remember having those problems with the schools (non-HBCUs) that I applied to, btw.  

Last weekend, my sister was home from fall break, and I asked her how things were going at school and her response was something along the lines of: I love going to an HBCU. I just have to remember that even though it is a prestigious school, they are still Black. They are going to be late, unorganized and inefficient.  Blah, blah, blah.

When she said that, I kind of looked away and didn’t say anything about it. Mostly because I didn’t know how I felt about her statement and the discussion that would have ensued had I tackled that statement was not the kind of conversation that I wanted to have with my baby over her fall break when I only had an hour of her time and attention. (I just wanted to hear about all the cool things she’s getting to see and do in the big, bad city, and at school with all the black folks.)

I’ve had some time to think now, and unfortunately I’m still torn about how I feel about her statement.  Part of me wants be offended, and say that lateness, disorganization and inefficiency shouldn’t be qualities that we want to automatically equate with Black people and black organizations. But part of me, sitting in the car with her, and even now kind of agrees with her.

This makes me cringe a little inside because 1) my friends, family and loved ones that are HBCU educated may kick my @ss for even posting this 2) I don’t want to be one of those black people that puts other black people down by pointing out flaws 3) Black people and institutions already have a hard time fighting implicit and explicit racism and discrimination and when they get caught being stereotypical it gives white people an excuse to say “See, black people really are like that.” 

And white people don’t need any more excuses to act like @ssholes.  The Republican Party, at this moment, has the market locked on white @sshole-ness. That’s enough.

 The more important problem with her statement wasn’t that she felt that her school fell into a negative racial stereotype (as bad as that was). I was more mad that that she felt that she should/could give them a pass for being less than perfect-because they were black.  She thought it was ok that her school had all those problems-and it was almost expected since they were black.

 I took it personally.  I mean, I don’t want anyone to give me a pass (during those very rare times that I do something stupid) just because I’m black or an f-ing woman or under 30 or any other reason for that matter. And I’m not giving anyone (none of ya’ll, regardless of ethnicity/color/national origin/native tongue) passes.

 Minority status doesn’t give us minorities (individuals and organizations) an excuse to be any less (in any and all areas) than majority individuals and organizations. We, as minorities, must expect quality in ourselves (and each other).  I, also, don’t want the majority to automatically expect (or condone) less from me because I’m the black chick. That is unacceptable.

  I don’t want a f*cking pass (and neither should you)! I expect per-f*cking-fection in myself and everyone else.  I don’t give a d*mn about race, sex, gender, IQ or anything else for that matter. Everyone should be held to the same standard.

 It pisses me off that organizations (like my sister’s school) get by (and charge ENORMOUS tuitions) while fulfilling the stereotype that black people are late, slow, unorganized.  What good can come of black organizations being thought of as lesser quality than majority organizations? Why would anyone want to work with minorities when they don’t expect the same quality as they would from other organizations? Can minorities expect to be treated fairly if they don’t have the same quality, and if we (minorities) don’t expect us to perform on their level?  And what does it mean when we (minorities) don’t expect quality from ourselves, when we say “it’s black people, so what more do you expect?”

 It does a disservice to all of us. 

 When minorities act like stereotypes it puts all of us at a competitive disadvantage.   We gotta be on top of our game at all times.

 Let this be a lesson to you, minorities. Get it together.

 Stop making me look bad.

I’ve been glued to the TV the past two nights watching CNN’s Black in America.  Wanna know what I thought about it? It was … Eh.  I guess I live Black in America everyday, so I just had a series of duh moments.  I was thinking, Did Soledad really need to interview folks to learn all this stuff.  Sh*t, she’s living Black in America every day she already knew this stuff.

So I’m thinking, who is her target audience?  I mean, there were lots of educated Black folks watching, Atlanta had watch parties at all the best restaurants so that people could get their drink on and see the show.  And I was invited to at least one House party where the focus would have been on the show.

But as I’ve listened to the radio for the past few days, I keep hearing that people didn’t learn anything knew, and that they weren’t surprised by anything they saw.  So, educated Blacks already knew what was up. So again, I ask, who was the target audience?

Then I think about the commercials that were playing, and they were all so multi-cultural.  Little Black and African kids sharing McD’s French fries, Black, Asian, Latino business people dancing as they go to hotels, colored people using computers and riding in airplanes and Benzs.  These commercials were not (for the most part) hawking cheap stuff.  And they all were directly targeted at Black viewers. So does that mean that CNN wanted to show Black America what it is like to be Black in America?  It appears so.  And that is sad.

It ain’t black folks that need to see what its like to be Black in America.  We already know about being raised by single parents, we already know about being the working poor, we already know that the leading cause of death for young Black females is AIDS, and that so many successful Black women can’t find successful black men to date because so many Black men are in prison.  We already know that Black people die at a faster rate than whites, and that our kids do worse in school than every other nationality.

And I bet you that Black America could also tell you a little bit about what it’s like to be white in America.  I know a little bit about white privilege (I could also tell you about straight privilege, but that is for another day).  I’m not saying that all white people are rich and healthy and smart (I know better than that.  I taught 1^st graders where all of them, the blacks, whites and Hispanics were all sickly, poor and hungry.)  But I am well aware that it is more likely that blacks will die quickly, in poverty, and in a lower socio-economic bracket. 

So I wonder, why was CNN targeting a Black audience?  And why wasn’t Bush and every member of Congress fed-exed an f*cking copy of this?  The issues that were discussed during Black in America, for the most part, are policy issues. These issues have to do with access to quality housing, jobs, food, education, opportunities.  It kills me that so many people live in a cycle of poverty, dirt, dumbness, and death.

 We have to help people, we have to help each other, and if we don’t then the shame does not lie with those that suffer.  It lies with the rest of us.