The Recovery Plan Starts in Here.

“I notice when you’re talking to White people and you say the word ‘White’ it’s almost like you’ve stabbed them a little bit.” - Princeton Professor Chenjerai Kumanyika on NPR’s Seeing White:

 

I once told a family member he was a racist. Even someone standing on an airport moving walkway was still moving, I’d said. In the same way, any White person not actively opposing a system of White supremacy benefited from it.

“So you’re calling me a racist?” he’d said.

He was incredulous. Insulted.

In my experience, many White people would likewise be offended. White Fragility author Robin DiAngelo calls this a lack of ‘racial stamina’ saying: “We consider a challenge to our racial world-views as a challenge to our very identities as good, moral people.”

Hence why I’d offended this person. I’d labeled him the very worst name you can call a White person, even though he strives to be both good and moral.

But he’s still a racist. And for that matter, so am I. And if you’re a White person, my guess is that so are you.

Incredulous?

Acknowledging our inner racist is fraught, in part because we’ve eschewed that label to fringe groups and ‘bad apples,’ instead of acknowledging the subconscious and unintentional ways that each of us inhabits racism. Until we, as White people, acknowledge that racism lives in here, not just ‘out there’—the ‘ist’ and not just the ‘ism’—we’ll never make headway in advancing racial equity in our country. As a well-intentioned White person, I excel at highlighting the ‘out there’ racism. Policing tactics, school funding, voter laws, ‘Karens.’ But I must first acknowledge this smog also lives in my lungs, even if I breathed it secondhand.

But perhaps you’re still balking at my accusation that we are, at a minimum, recovering racists. Renowned racial psychologist Dr. Beverly Tatum describes racism as a simple equation: Prejudice plus power. Anyone who harbors prejudice and who benefits from the current power structure—again, intentionally or unintentionally—is, like it or not, a racist. Amy Cooper offers an obvious recent example of prejudice plus power. Cooper, a white woman, called the police on a Black birdwatcher in Central Park after a dispute about leashing her dog. Prejudice informed her reaction and she used her power, leaning on a familiar trope of African American man terrorizing a White woman. But that example may feel obvious. ‘Out there.’

Looking inward requires I admit I hold prejudices, which, of course, I do. Researchers are unanimous: We all have implicit bias. Each of us holds stereotypes, which we unconsciously tap into when forming opinions. And while I am disgusted by Ms. Cooper’s actions, I must privately consider: If a Black man emerged from the brush at dawn, ourselves alone on the trail, might my own heart quicken? I’ve spent 20 years trying to detangle myself from the grips of White supremacy, but I’ve also spent four decades trained to see Black men as dangerous, in explicit and implicit ways. Prejudice, as Tatum says, “is one of the inescapable consequences of living in a racist society.” Every day I must force myself to look ‘in here’ to upend instinctual prejudices. And every day, acknowledge ways I reverted to deeply ingrained, biased narratives.

Similarly, I must acknowledge the power that comes from living inside a system built for people like me. Generational wealth helped buy our house. A private security firm, owned by the nearby predominately White university, patrols our streets. The life expectancy of my zip code averages 20 years higher than Black neighborhoods in my city. We won a literal lottery to a public charter school. In systems thinking, this is called ‘success to the successful.’ Like an investment that reaps interest, each of privilege builds upon the next, amassing more power. And similar to prejudice, my awareness of this power and privilege is not enough. I must use my social and financial capital to help amplify organizations, families and businesses of color in my community. I must elect politicians who acknowledge broken systems and seek to rebuild them.

But the first step is always admitting the problem. Until we are honest with ourselves, until each of us—whether we’re a parent or a police officer—can acknowledge the prejudices we harbor and the power each of us yields, whether we yield it knowingly or not, racial equity will be elusive. Let’s name it, so we can honestly work to solve it. I believe none of us can become the ‘anti-racists’ we may seek to be, until we first acknowledge that starting point in ourselves. Then we can begin work on our personal—and collective—recovery plans.

 

 

 

First Month of 'School' Progress Report

The Master Parish Independent School

First Month of School Assessment: Emmie Parish

As our headmaster, who is also me, likes to say: “We feel like their other parent, because we are!” As we have been in constant communication the past few weeks, nothing below should be a surprise. Still, I find it helpful to share a more holistic portrait of a child’s progress in writing. Please reach out with any questions you may have over dinner.

Ms. M-P

P.S. This reminds me, please make sure our case of wine delivery is set to arrive, tonight, as planned. And that you’ve added bourbon to the order.

Overall Comments:

How has it only been a month since Emmie and my entire classroom arrived at our little school?! I realize the adjustment to a new academic setting can be challenging for everyone. I have great empathy for Emmie’s transition. She and her two siblings were an unexpected addition to my classroom. (As was I, ha ha!) I realize this was not Emmie’s first choice for school, having transferred mid-year from her previous school (which, I’m nearly constantly reminded, had chickens, a ‘twisty slide’ and her ‘favorite’ teacher, Mr. B). 

Following Directions

This skill has been a struggle for Emmie. She needs frequent redirecting to be attentive and often requires at least four reminders during Health Class to clear her cereal bowl from the table before the oatmeal congeals. In other instances, she claims to not have heard the directions, yet conveniently comes running from another room if her peer is asking about snack choices. Also, it’s not like I’m asking her to walk through fire or teach a multi-level curriculum while helping to retrofit an educational nonprofit to provide real time professional development in a distance learning space or continue to meet ongoing freelance deadlines. I’m just asking her to take out a pen and draw a cartoon pig and elephant, for Christ’s sake.

Having a Positive Attitude

Such an abrupt transition can feel traumatic for a young child. What she is likely experiencing is grief, similar to any adult. I mean, one day you’re buying a plane ticket for a girls’ weekend to your friend’s lakehouse and the next day you’re bribing your kids into watching some old guy draw the iPad for 20 minutes so you can drink boxed wine, while crying in your room. A hypothetical example. The point is: Emmie is learning an important life lesson: we can’t get everything we want in life, but sometimes you need to shut up, smile and draw the damn elephant.

Being Prepared 

Not to be indelicate, but there are some days when Emmie and her siblings have come to school still in pajamas and without having brushed their teeth. When I’ve broached the subject, they said their father let them sleep in. I know it is tempting to sleep in with the shorter school commute, but our jam-packed school schedule does not afford time for daily hygiene.

Being respectful to myself and others

I have been surprised by how much self confidence and self-assuredness she has for a young girl! A future essential worker, just like her father! Although sometimes, it does present as entitlement. During our Practical Life session, the students are expected to develop their fine motor skills by engaging with activities such as unpacking the dishwasher or folding laundry. (We use a Montessori method that is ‘hands on.’) Unfortunately, at times, Emmie is very resistant to this learning, saying to her teacher:  “You do it, it’s your job” and also: “I’m not folding these stupid socks.” You can reference our text chain for other examples. April 3 and the ‘Can I just write ‘I hate Mommy’ 50 times, instead?’’ thread, in particular, was emblematic of the overall tone.

Cooperating with others

Emmie is by far the most advanced student in our school, which offers one classroom serving preK1 through 1st grade As such, I look to Emmie as a leader and role model. Unfortunately, at times she struggles to play cooperatively with her fellow students. She seems to be in constant competition with our Kindergarten student, and will, for example, preemptively take the Elsa plate at snack time, knowing her peer will want it. She also seems to gravitate toward the sensory table, which was set up to entertain our youngest student for even five minutes while I’m attempting to deliver instruction to the other grades and participate in a Zoom call. Anyway, sharing and not monopolizing the baby’s toys is a target learning area for us next quarter.

Additional Comments: 

Given the constrained budgets of small, independent schools in this climate, I wear multiple hats, including IT director, head nutritionist, gym teacher, arts integration specialist and para-educator, while also juggling a caseload of adult learners who are new to the virtual space. All to say: If Emmie shares that there has been what sounds like excessive ‘screen time,’ that is to be expected during this somewhat bumpy transition. Related: Can you speak to Emmie about properly handling expensive equipment? And can you also put a new pair of headphones in the Amazon cart at lunch? Her former school still likes to do a daily video conference call to ‘check in’ and once you’ve experienced the audio of 25 seven-year-olds on a Zoom call, you realize headphones are essential equipment.