A UNIQUELY AMERICAN PHENOMENON: The Racial Divide - As experience by an American White Man (parts 1 and 2)

INTRODUCTION

Any discussion about race, bigotry, supremacy, dominance, etc. is bound to evoke strong emotions, thoughts, and discussion (debate? argument? acrimony? anger?), so let me say from the start that this is my journey and the thoughts and ideas resulting from this journey are mine and mine alone. I do not intend to preach as to how anyone should think and behave. Since these thoughts are so fraught with emotion, I hope to be able to address them mindfully. It is my intention to portray my experiences and discoveries in a way that is sensitive, truthful, purposeful and above all nonjudgmental and non-hurtful. If I fail with this intention let me say upfront that I am sorry for anything that I write that is offensive. Ahisma*

*Sanscrit for “Do No Harm”

Deciding to research, meditate, contemplate, and write about racism, white supremacy and privilege and my experiences with them was, and is, difficult and humbling. It required me to be vulnerable and honest with, and about, myself. Most of all it required an open heart and an open mind, which can be very difficult. My research included reading history books, nonfiction books and novels, having discussions with friends and family, and finally all leading to meditating in order to discover my inner most emotions, thoughts and beliefs that have been developing and evolving over the many years of my life regarding race and racism. One of the books I read was “The Autobiography of Malcom X, as told to Alex Haley”.  The philosophies of Malcom X, as I knew of them from the news stories and excerpts from other readings, were antithetical to my views of what is required for a peaceful and civil society. After reading his autobiography those opinions have not changed all that much, however, it is his methods and his misogynistic tendencies that I find disturbing. That fact that he, and the Nation of Islam, in the 1940s and 1950s were among the first to educate many poor Black Americans as to the history of slavery and oppression, and his overall enlightenment as to how that oppression led most of an entire race to be considered “inferior” was an important feat. After his pilgrimage to Mecca, Malcom X softened his rhetoric and stated that, “…an open mind…is necessary to the flexibility that must go hand in hand with every form of intelligent search for truth.”[2] On that he and I agree.

It was always intellectually obvious to me that the raw impact of hate and racism has resulted in pain, suffering, physical and emotional trauma, economic hardship and inequality, and death to so many throughout human history. What was less obvious to me until my later years was the extent to which I was complicit in maintaining a system that had, at its roots, benefited from that suffering.

Let me be clear. I am not responsible for the slaves that came over on the White Lion in 1619, and other ships. I am not responsible for the 250 years of blatant slavery, nor am I to blame for all the suffering endured by Blacks and other people of color since the passage of the 13th Amendment in 1865. I may not be personally responsible, but that is beside the point. As a White person growing up in the United States I have inherently benefited from the enslavement of Black people and their subsequent treatment, even into the current day, even more so being a White male. In some respects, I have not only benefited from, but contributed (however unknowingly) to a system that is unfair, unequal and in many ways dangerous to people of color. This is not debatable. It is a fact. In Frederick Douglass’ speech, “The Race Problem” he says, “…in politics, morals, manners, metaphysics, and philosophies, nothing can stand the test of time and experience that does not stand on the unassailable, indestructible, unchangeable, foundation of true.”[3] So, to be true, I must admit to my complicity and acknowledge the required work I must do. Rhonda Magee, in her book “The inner Work of Racial Justice” helped to open my eyes; “James Baldwin reminded us that to change anything, we must have the courage to face it. We must face the fact that racism is essential to the culture we have inherited and are subtly re-creating each day. It has shaped our communities and life opportunities in ways that we can no longer ignore.”[4]

We all suffer when we are confronted with or espouse racists ideology. Yes, even those who do spout racists diatribes or participate in hate groups suffer. How could they not be suffering. Racism and violent acts that result from that ideology is, by definition, based in hate. Anyone who hates, suffers. Hate is based in ignorance, fear, shame and anger which are the basic ingredients of suffering. Of course, the suffering of those on the receiving end of racism is more than emotional or psychological. They suffer economically, suffer from persecution, incur violence and murder, and from emotional trauma. The fact remains, though, the scourge of racism affects us all. Just some more than others. That said, there are some who do benefit as a result of the effects of racism. As a White man I had more opportunities than anyone who did not fall into my demographic, as I discuss in Part II. So, how did I suffer from racism? We as a society, and more broadly as a species, suffer when an entire demographic is persecuted, hated, denied basic human rights or simply not given the same opportunities as others. At the very least, society suffers when not all of its members have an equal opportunity to contribute. As an example, the world suffers if potential bright minds are not developed because they were denied access to higher education because of the color of their skin. My point is that racism has a negative impact on all of us. Ms. Magee summarizes this succinctly, “Racism costs all of us. But it does not cost us all equally”[5]

To truly understand anything requires work, time, dedication and an open mind. This is especially true regarding that which requires the re-learning of concepts and ideas which were taken for granted during a lifetime. Such is the case with race, racism and privilege, at least it is for me. To effectively re-learn requires a willingness to be vulnerable. Brené Brown states, “Vulnerability is the birthplace of innovation, creativity and change.”[6] However, vulnerability is hard. It is hard because we fear what will happen to us if we open ourselves up to change. Racism is based in that fear. This fear comes from ignorance and from the idea that those who are different than us (in whatever way) are a threat and will somehow take away or change “our way of life”. This fear stops us from doing the work necessary to see that the way we have looked at race and racism in the past needs an adjustment. To be able to open our minds, hearts and eyes to see race and racism though a new lens. Sometimes changing “our way of life” is not a bad thing.

There are many complicated aspects to race and racism. There is evidence throughout human history of distrust, scorn, segregation, murder and even genocide over fear of, or power over, the “other.” Dominance by one group over another is not a unique American phenomenon. What I find uniquely American about what Baldwin calls the “Race Problem” in the U.S. is the lasting impact it has had on American society. It is this lasting impact that I hope to address in this essay.

As is the case for all my essays, I write them for the benefit of my daughters so that they have a better understanding of the person that is their father, (someday it will be “was”). To anyone else who may read this, I welcome you.

Onward…

PART 1
Growing up White

The Great Divide

Like so many individuals around the world, I sat in awe and became emotional on the night of November 4th, 2008, as we watched the first Black person in the history of the United States be elected to the office of President of the United States. I recalled the words of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr when he paraphrased Theodore Parker; “The arc of moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice”.  Barack Obama was elected President with almost 10 million more votes than his White opponent, John McCain, and more than double the number of electoral college votes. This was no fluke. I thought, like so many others, that our country had finally turned the corner, electing the person based on qualifications and not skin color, and maybe we were in fact heading towards justice. And then…….

It wasn’t long after the 2008 Presidential election that I began to see how wrong, and oblivious, I was. It was as if the election of a Black person as President emboldened the giant that lurked in the shadows. Racism and white supremacy were simmering cesspools of hate that, while not dormant by any means, was thought to be waning in our society’s collective conscience. After all, we passed the Civil Rights Act and Voting Rights Act. Affirmative action gave opportunities to many women and people of color. More women, Blacks and other people of color were being elected to political offices all over the country. These were all positive outcomes, to be sure, but apparently not enough. As Rhonda Magee writes, “The battle over the degree to which Black people and other non-whites should be included in, or excluded from, the body politic had not been won by the civil rights movement after all.” She continues, “…we had only settled into an uneasy truce.”[7]

The legislation and policies of the 1960’s were called the “war on poverty” by President Lyndon Baines Johnson. LBJ was a “good ‘ole boy” Democrat from Texas. Southern Democrats were notoriously racist during this time, and they felt betrayed that “one of their own” was responsible for the passage of these acts, and many left the Democratic party as a result. The war on poverty did not live up to its rhetoric for many reasons, not the least of which is that hate cannot be erased by an act of congress, nor did it erase the suffering of those who bore the brunt of racism. Two weeks after the Civil Rights Act of 1964 was enacted a White New York City off-duty police officer shot and killed a 15-year-old Black boy setting off unrest in Harlem. Over the course of the next few years there were other incidents that led to protests and unrest culminating in the “long hot summer” of 1967 when widespread rioting occurred in many U.S. cities. This time of racial unrest and violence lasted, off and on again, for the rest of the decade.

Through all of this upheaval many White people finally began to understand the effects of our racist past. This reckoning only went so far, however. Many liberal Whites were convinced that the country had come to terms with its racial past and were making amends. After all, in addition to the passage of the Civil Rights and Voting Rights Acts there was the passage of the Social Security Act, which created the Medicaid program which was to give the very poor access to health care and retirement income. And since the majority of the country’s very poor were African Americans wasn’t this proof that we were no longer a racist society? Many Whites were disillusioned and did not understand why Blacks still felt disenfranchised and persecuted, failing to understand that “laws do not change hearts”.

As racial unrest subsided in the 1970’s, (to be replaced by violence from anti-war protests), in addition to African Americans appearing to get opportunities they never had before, white society began to think that overt, systemic racism was a thing of the past. The theory was that there will always be ignorance, bigots and racists, but these were individual failings, not society’s as a whole. Also, African American representation in government and businesses was growing adding another talking point to the story that the United States had left its racism in the past. I, like so many White people of my generation, never really thought that systemic racism existed, and, in fact, didn’t even think about it at all.  Why? I guess because we didn’t see it affecting us.

Of course, there were the occasional stories of inequity and unfair allocation of resources. White politicians blathering about so called “Welfare Queens” who would game the system to get more welfare money. Then came the horrendous political ad during George H.W. Bush’s 1988 presidential campaign stoking white fear with a photo of a Black man, Willie Horton, who was guilty of violently raping a woman while on prison furlough program. This was supposed to show that the Democratic candidate, who supported the furlough program, as “weak on crime”. It was a calculated move to stoke racism and fear. Racism was fair game once again.

Since that night in 2008 I began to really take notice that rampant racism and biases continue to exist in our country. I have been slowly coming to a reckoning ever since and finally decided to study the origins of racism and my place in it.

My Sheltered Childhood

“It looked as though you did not act in a certain way, but rather that you thought in a certain way because you were made in a certain way.”[8]

It is important to state that I loved my childhood. I had a family that loved me, plenty of friends, access to ball fields, sleigh riding hills, woods to explore, etc. My parents were the first owners of a small Cape Cod style house located on a dead-end cul-de-sac street in Riverdale, NJ where every other house on the street was exactly the same. It was a typical small suburb located about 25 miles outside of New York City. They bought the house in 1957 and could barely afford the $7,000 mortgage, but they had multiple motivations for the purchase. The first was their pride in being able to afford their own home as both my mother and father grew up very poor in tenement rentals during the depression and then only lived in rented homes with their, then, 2 children. Another motivation was that my father’s family was still mired in poverty and, more concerning to my parents, alcoholism. They did not want their children around that environment. And finally, although it was never spoken about, white flight. Every family in the 20 or so houses on Newbury Place were White, mostly Christians. That was not a coincidence.

My parents were good hearted people and, as far as I know, never wished harm to anyone, (with the possible exception being the Nazis and the Japanese during WWII). Just like all of us, their views, beliefs and emotions were shaped by the environment and time in history in which they grew and lived, especially regarding race and racism in the United States. It was their experiences and views that shaped my childhood. I try to always remember that context is important. Ideally, as we mature, we develop our own views and beliefs. Rhonda Magee addresses this, “We need to see that the black/white divide was central to understanding race in our parents’ generations. More deeply than we can imagine, it helped shape their views, values and what they dedicated themselves to fight for and against. Because we cannot help but see the world through the eyes of the generation that taught us, the legacy of the black/white paradigm remains important to our understanding of how race influences us all.”[9] Magee also quotes James Baldwin regarding our influences, “The great force of history comes from the fact that we carry it within us, are unconsciously controlled by it in many ways, and history is literally present in all we do. It could scarcely be otherwise, since it is to history that we owe our frames of reference, our identities, our aspirations.” [10]

My “Wonder Years”

After watching the popular 1980’s TV series, The Wonder Years, I would have sworn they were depicting my childhood; a young White boy growing up in an American suburb during the 1960’s. It even avoided the issue of race, mostly, just as we did growing up. Racial injustice, civil rights struggles, etc. were all things that you saw on the TV news and occurred in some other place. Since there were no Black families in our school, or in our town for that matter, it was all foreign to us. My biases were not the unconscious kind. I was truly afraid of Black people, especially teenagers. As I grew older, more mature and learned, I shed the consciousness of my bigotry, but as I came to understand, the unconscious part stayed with me. Parts of it are with me still. Our minds and egos are conditioned from birth. How we are conditioned will influence our philosophies, beliefs, justifications, and our inner most thoughts and emotions. At least until we, if we, become independent thinkers as we grow into adulthood. Even then it is very difficult to extinguish those intractable life experiences and teachings from all the moments of a life that have come before. Such is the case with me in regard to race, gender, privilege, and power. (Note: this essay is about my journey and growth around the issues of race. While there are obvious parallels and intersections, gender bias is a subject I hope to write about in a future essay).

It is difficult to avoid unconscious biases, racial or otherwise. We tend to gravitate toward that which validates our own experiences and long held beliefs. As I began my journey and deep dive into my own heart, soul and mind regarding race, privilege, gender, and power I made a promise to myself that whenever I felt defensive and the need to justify my indoctrinated beliefs that I would attempt to regroup and retry with as open a mind and heart as possible. It is as imperative as it is difficult to do. Unconscious bias is part of the foundation of unhealthy beliefs regarding race, privilege, gender, and power.

My Unconscious? Bias

“The biases we hold…are learned rather than innate…We have been trained away from our interest in novel faces and the broader world. We have been trained away from our sense that the world is a safe and trustworthy place. We have been trained to fear, to be on the lookout for threats to our safety. We have directed our fears toward one another”[11] – Rhonda Magee

For most of my life I was truly unaware of my biases, even in adult life. There was always a sense, however faint, that I knew it was there. I just did not know what to call it. Maybe unconscious is the wrong word. Instead, maybe the title should be “My Willfully Ignorant Bias”? Sometimes we need others to point out when we need to move out of our own heads and into our hearts. In the forward of “The Inner Work of Racial Justice,” Jon Kabat-Zin writes, “Because we can be so blind to our own mental processes, biases, and racialized identities, we need one another to point out what we don’t even know we don’t know. That ignorance is at the root of our own imprisonment and isolation, and at the root of the harm we can so easily cause others, wittingly or unwittingly.”  Kabat-Zin continues,

“We are faced with the paradox that we have to do our own inner work if we hope to wake up and embody the fullness of who we really are. No one can do this for us. Yet, at the same time, we need one another to function as mirrors to point out where we are unaware, most blind. Our lenses are often too clouded over with unexamined [emphasis is mine] opinions, inherited prejudices, biases of all kinds… and stories about who each of us is as a person – usually a good, well-meaning, kind, and aware person.”[12]

To further this point, in their book “Impact, A Step-by-Step Plan to Create the World You Want to Live In”, authors Christen Brandt and Tammy Tibbetts write, “Gaps between your frame of reference and others’ simply means it’s critical to have on-going conversations in which you listen more than you speak.”[13] Listening…what a concept.

The bottom line, sometimes we need someone or something to make us aware and encourage us to listen to new ideas, however uncomfortable. For me, becoming aware of my own biases was an iterative process which began to crescendo in these last few years

The Basis for my Bias

The generally accepted definition of unconscious bias (in terms of human interactions) is that it is a stereotype about certain groups of people that individuals form outside their own conscious awareness. But how and why do they develop? For me it started with the experiences of my childhood.

I was raised in a small, predominantly White, Christian suburban town during the 1960’s. The population was about 2,500 people, and as I already indicated, there were no Black families. As a child, my only exposure to African Americans is what I saw in the television shows and movies I watched and the weekly broadcast of the NY Yankee games, and the Black players in baseball. As it is with most children, I thought the world in which I lived was “normal.” The fact that the only people I knew were white was not even a consideration. It is said that ignorance is bliss, and for children that is especially true. I truly was blissful in my youthful ignorance.

The news headlines during my childhood in the 1960’s that left an indelible impression on my young mind included the assassination of President John F. Kennedy, the civil rights marches and protests, the passage of the Civil rights and the Voting Rights Acts, the Vietnam War and related protests, the “March on Washington”, the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., the assassination of Robert Kennedy, the silent “Black Power” protest by the 1968 Olympians Tommie Smith and John Carlos, the Apollo 11 moon landing, and most vividly, the Newark “Race” riots of 1967. Many of these headlines related in some way to the issue of race in the United States and were profound influences on my views, conscious and unconscious, regarding Black people.

My parents grew up in Jersey City, NJ and spent many hours shopping and attending the occasional movie or show in Newark. They had fond memories of the times spent there. In hindsight I believe my parents had somewhat socially liberal viewpoints. As I said, they never wished harm on anyone, but they were from the “greatest generation” and their liberalism only went so far. They watched the civil rights “March on Washington” and Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s “I Have a Dream Speech” with admiration because of how peaceful it was. However, watching the 4-day riots that took place in Newark in 1967 which destroyed many homes and businesses left them disgusted. I was 9 years old at the time and what I saw on the news and my parents’ reaction scared me. I came to judge all Black people by the images I saw on TV. More profoundly, there was an incident that happened to me three years after the riots that cemented my fear of all Black people.

I was 12 years old. A friend, (also named Tom), and I came up with a wild plan to convince our parents to allow us to travel to the Bronx to see a Yankee game on our own. After finding out how to get to the Stadium, (it would require a bus from NJ to Port Authority in NYC and then two subway trains), we were ready to lobby our parents. Knowing my parents, I felt in my heart that this was a fool’s errand. I had never even been on a subway train, never mind doing it alone. Tom may have had a shot at convincing his parents, but I knew there was no way my parents would agree to this insane idea. After all, the furthest I ever traveled on my own was to the next town where the nearest movie theater was located. To my amazement, after much discussion between both sets of parents, they said “yes.” I was excited, but I was also more than a little nervous.

It was the summer of 1970. Racial unrest was still a concern and “White flight” from major cities on the east coast was in full swing. Newark and parts of NYC, including and especially Harlem, had become places to avoid. Poverty, crime, and rage were rampant in these mostly Black neighborhoods. As a sheltered White child who’s only exposure to the “real” world was the evening news, poverty, crime, and rage went hand-in-hand with being Black, or at least that was how it seemed. The fact that the poverty, crime, and rage was the result of an oppressive and racist economic and political system was not even a consideration.

Racial unrest was still prevalent in United States in 1970, however most of the stories that made the 6:00 o’clock news focused more on the Vietnam War and the resulting protests, the Kent State murder of four student protestors by the National Guard, the Apollo 13 “Houston, we got a problem” mission, and even the Beatle’s break up dominated the news coverage. However, despite the reduced news coverage the fear of the “Black ghetto” was very real. As a result, our parents were adamant about “sticking to the plan” and not deviate from our instructions. “Go directly to the Stadium and then right home after the game.” Of course, we didn’t listen, we were 12-year-old boys full of adventure.

It was a Sunday, and the Yankees were scheduled to play and old-fashion doubleheader against the old Washington Senators. The Yankees were no longer the dominant team they were in the early 1960’s, but they did finish in second place that year. Tom and I were excited that we were going to see the likes of Mel Stottlemyre, Fritz Peterson, Horace Clark, Gene Michael, Roy White, a very young Thurman Munson and, my favorite Yankee at the time, Bobby Murcer. We were all decked out in our Yankee gear; Yankee t-shirt, Yankee hat, baseball glove, and…wait for it…binoculars hanging around our necks. We could only afford “nosebleed” upper deck seats, so we thought it was a brilliant idea to bring binoculars and go walking around NYC with them hanging from our necks.

After arriving at Port Authority, we knew that we needed to take the A train to the 59th station and then switch to the B train which would take us to the 161st Street/Yankee Stadium station. Neither one of us knew anything about NYC. We knew that Yankee Stadium was “in the Bronx,” but that meant nothing to us. We saw that Port Authority was on 42nd Street, so Tom had what he thought was a scathingly brilliant idea. What if we didn’t take the subway, but instead walked to the Stadium? His logic was that 119 blocks can’t be that far, and we could use the subway fare to purchase more treats at the Stadium. We had no clue that 161st Street in the Bronx has nothing to do with the street numbers in Manhattan, AND even if it was a “simple” 119 blocks that’s approximately 6 miles!! We were clueless.

We realized our mistake when it took longer than expected to walk just the 17 blocks to 59th Street. Since we knew we had to switch at 59th Street if we did take the subway we figured no harm - no foul. We’ll just get on the B train to the Stadium. Plus, we walked up 8th Avenue and in 1970 that area of the city was beginning its decline into porn shops and seedy theaters which might be another reason we decided that the train would be better. There was always a flaw in our plan, however. This was a Sunday, and the B train does not go to Yankee Stadium on the weekends. The end of the line was at 145th Street and St. Nicholas Avenue, in the middle of … Harlem.

Harlem and St Nicholas Avenue both have a rich cultural history, but in the late 1960’s into the 1970’s it suffered from poverty and crime. For us to end up in Harlem was exactly what our parents warned against. When we came up from the subway station, we were scared that we were not at the Stadium. Somehow, though, we knew to walk east towards the Harlem River. As we got closer, we could see Yankee Stadium across the river and a bridge (the 145th Street Bridge) that would take us there. To get to the bridge our path took us through a park, (which I now know is the “Frederic Johnson Playground”). Let me return to how we were dressed…..in our full Yankee regalia including the baseball gloves and binoculars.

As we walked through the playground to get to the bridge we noticed many kids, Black teenagers, playing basketball. We also noticed that they all stopped playing and were staring at us. I am sure they were in disbelief. I can still see their bewildered faces. We just kept walking when one of the bigger kids came up to me (walking right past Tom for some reason) and demanded to know what we were doing in their playground. I mumbled something about going to a Yankee game and he then picked me up and threw me against a chain-linked fence. As I was up against the fence with my feet dangling off the ground, my “brave” friend was waving his hands at me and was yelling repeatedly, “Don’t give him any money, Tom. Don’t give him any money!” He quickly changed his tune and said to the very large teenager (he seemed gigantic to me), “If HE gives you a dollar will you leave us alone?” I’m now thinking I’m done for. He’ll take my little 12-year-old boy wallet with all my money and then probably kill me, but the teenager said, “Sure, give me a dollar!” I had no choice but to take my wallet from my pants pocket to get the dollar. When he only took the dollar and then let me go, I was shocked. He even left the glove and binoculars. He then jogged back to his friends who were all hooting and laughing. In hindsight, I realized that he was just having what he thought was a bit of fun. Well, it may have been fun for him, but I almost wet myself. More importantly, and sadly, it cemented my fear of Black people.

Tom and I made it over the bridge and to the game. I remember very little about the doubleheader, but I remember the events at the playground very vividly. I was obviously traumatized. We swore that we would not tell anyone about what happened, especially our parents. It was not until I was in my 30’s before I told my mother the story, (my father had passed by then).

As an adult I look back at what happened and can marvel at our stupidity and even make it an amusing story. However, as I said, in my 12-year-old mind this incident justified my fears and bigotry and confirmed my biases that I was taught by the mass media. This stayed with me well into adulthood.

My Early Education Begins

As I progressed into my teenage and high school years some subtle changes occurred. There were still no Black students at our high school during the mid-70’s, and in that sense, I was still sheltered and close minded when it came to race. More accurately I was oblivious. I was more focused on baseball, music, beer, girls and sex, which I guess is not that uncommon at that age. However, something was changing. I started to become more aware of how people, students, interacted. I was not one to join a clique. In fact, I use to boast that I had friends in almost every type of social group. It was because of this broad group of friends from different backgrounds (as much as that was possible in an all-white middleclass suburban high school) and with varied interests that I was able to notice the way they treated each other. Some of it was bothersome. The most bothersome to me was the way someone was treated if there was even an inkling that they were gay. Ever since the Stonewall Riots in 1969 society had begun its long, slow journey to accepting non-cisgender people, (of course that struggle and journey continues today), but that acceptance was not occurring in conservative Morris County, NJ, not in the mid 1970’s. The bullying was brutal. I had yet to develop the courage to actively push back against the bullies as the fear of being tagged as a “homo” was real. Not because I felt that anyone should be ashamed of their sexuality, but it was a fear of being ostracized. My resistance was more passive and subtle, (some may say weak). While I would not confront bullies, I did become friends, or at least was friendly, with some on the receiving end of the bullying.

What does this have to do with racism? Other than it relates to another marginalized group being harassed and persecuted, nothing. However, it relates to my growth and journey. Looking back, I think it was then that I began to get a sense of injustice. It was subtle, I did not really act on it, but it was real.

It wasn’t until I attended college that I had any recurring interaction with people of color, and my education regarding racism in our country slowly began. However, it was still a sheltered existence especially then. While I would “hang out” with anyone, I became friends with those who looked and acted like me. I would see the all-Black fraternities and wonder why that was a thing. Why did they feel like they had to have their own exclusive fraternity? Why would I not see any Black students at the parties I attended? As I said, the education was just beginning. I wouldn’t begin to fully understand the concept of unconscious bias and privilege until I was well into my career.

Career Success

I don’t recall the exact moment, or even a general time period, when I became aware of my privilege. As a cisgender White man my privilege extends not only to race but gender as well. To discuss privilege fully would result in a very long missive as it is as complicated and nuanced as any subject. The tentacles of privilege spread wide. However, to stay on the subject of my education around race and racism that is where I will direct this discussion.

I had a very successful 30-year career in financial services. That success allowed for a level of wealth and financial security that is enjoyed by few, and far exceeded what I thought I would ever achieve. We were able to pay off all our debts, purchase basically whatever we wanted, send our children to private schools, retire early, and travel to exotic locations….in comfort. In that sense our level of privilege was obvious, not only to me, but to anyone who knew us. What was not so obvious to me was that while building that successful career over those 30 years I enjoyed a level of opportunity not afforded to others who were not White cisgender men. There does exist, and I benefited, and continue to benefit, from “White male privilege.” That is a non-debatable aspect of our society. Ours is a society that was created, mostly, historically, by White men, (otherwise know in the current vernacular as the “patriarchy”). There are obviously other aspects of privilege not related to career success, and I hope to address them later. For now, I’ll keep the discussion to the narrow focus of my career.

I chose the words of that last paragraph very carefully. Those of us in my demographic who worked hard and made sacrifices in order to achieve success as defined by our society tend to get very defensive when confronted with the concept of privilege. I know that I did. “I came from nothing and worked hard to achieve my success.”, “I was raised by parents who were blue-collar and lower middle class. I inherited nothing.”, “Before I was successful, we struggled to pay even basic utility bills.”, “I worked my ass off to be successful.” These are statements I have uttered many times over the years, and each one of them is true. True, and incomplete. It is true that we struggled financially in the early years, and yes, I worked extremely hard and sacrificed time with my family to achieve success at work. It is also true that being a cisgender white man is no guaranty that I would be successful even with hard work and sacrifice. Many, in fact the majority, of my demographic do not reach the same level of success and faced many obstacles to achieve any level of success. However, there is one thing that all who are in this demographic have in common; in the past century any career obstacles we may have faced did not include our gender or the color of our skin! All of these things are true. I did work hard and make sacrifices, AND I had the opportunity to be successful that others did not because they were not white cisgender men.

Some may argue that affirmative action and racial and gender quotas have denied certain specific opportunities to some White men. While this has happened, albeit infrequently, even in those instances, those same, very few, White men could find other opportunities much easier than non-white men. Even with affirmative action policies, which only apply in very limited situations and are rapidly being dismantled, the vast majority of people of color do not enjoy the same level of access to opportunities.

These next statements I feel are important for me to repeat, and are directed to anyone who gets defensive, as I have in the past, when the subject of white male privilege is raised. I recognize that I had more opportunities because I am a White cisgender man, AND I consider myself successful. These two concepts can be, and are, true at the same time.

It has been said that I would not have been as successful if additional qualified individuals, (i.e., females and people of color), were afforded the same level of opportunity as I was. I can’t argue against that, in fact I agree with it, how could I not? I’m not going to lie - rising to those levels does give me a sense of accomplishment as I was financially successful and attained very senior positions in the system that existed. Only a few individuals rose to levels of success that I attained in that system, and at the same time I recognize that the system was not as open to others as it was to me. Would I have been as successful if the system wasn’t rigged against other demographics? I have no idea. Having more “competition” would make it more challenging for sure. However, I do know that it would not have curtailed my efforts and attitudes. By measuring my success in material terms, maybe that success could be thought of as tainted. Inherent in the concept of that last statement, is that there would be more quality competition, and therefore the chance of that material success is reduced. I agree, in any hierarchical system, such as a capitalistic corporate structure, competition exists. I always believed, however, my biggest hurdle to success was not the actions of others, but my own limitations. Therefore, I have always measured my success by my efforts, attitudes, ethics, and most of all how I treat others. So, while it's possible that my material achievements may not have been at the same level, my success, as I define it, was not tainted.

In the chapters to come I intend to address my education with regards to race and racism in the United States. By education I am not only referring to my “reckoning” with my biases and privilege, but I mean, truly, an education.  Facts, dates, historically important events and people, etc.  Before doing so I thought it important to write this personal history to lay the foundation of my real-life experiences that shaped my views, at least in raw form prior to doing the deep dive into this very difficult subject.

Onward….

PART 2

My Racial Education

“Education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world” - Nelson Mandela

Many 21st century sociologists theorize that “race” is a social construct with no scientific basis, and upon reflection I understand the concept. There are no genetic or physiological definitions of “race” other than outward appearance. It is that outward appearance (i.e., skin color, hair type, eye shape, etc) that humans have used to psychologically develop the concept of race. I get it! That race is a social construct is important for the further education and understanding that we are all one species, or as mindfulness practitioners say “interconnected”. Science is important, but as we have witnessed in the last decade not everyone cares about scientific facts. Just as legislation will not change hearts and minds, I fear the same holds true with science when much of what causes racism is fear and emotionally driven, not rational, thought. Education around racism requires a more basic approach in my opinion. Simply put, we need to have civil, respectful, truthful, and open dialogue that educates. Name calling, labeling, and accusatory language will not change anyone’s heart or mind. They result in defensive posturing, hyperbole, counter accusations, and nothing accomplished. This education must occur with everyone and must start with each of us individually. This is my attempt to learn more.

Before I go on to write about my racial education journey, I think it is important to be cognizant of the fact that words matter. Sometimes words get in the way of, or overshadow, the true meaning of what is trying to be said, especially if those words are sometimes used in a derogatory way or may be interpreted as accusatory. I have always thought that when trying to educate others don’t demean, don’t accuse, be concise, and be factual. When discussing race and racism, calling someone a racist, white supremacist, ignorant, or any other derogatory name serves no productive purpose. I am not referring to incendiary terms such as racial or ethnic epithets meant to hurt or dehumanize. If your purpose is to shock, humiliate, dehumanize or hurt someone, then calling them names is a sure-fire way to get that accomplished. But if your purpose is to educate and enlighten, then name calling, or labeling, is extremely counterproductive.

Labeling – A Lost Opportunity

Anyone who ventures to take an objective look at our country’s history will find that much of the economy and infrastructure for the first 100 years, and longer, was built on the backs of slave labor. In fact, it was only 50 years ago that any serious federal anti-discrimination laws were enacted in the U.S. In addition, we invoked systematic genocide of the continent’s indigenous people in order to forcibly take their land. This was all perpetrated by the White men in power. So, when bell hooks uses the phrase “white supremacist capitalist patriarchy” in her book “killing rage: Ending Racism”[14] I totally understand her point. For anyone who takes the time to do research on our racial past Ms. hooks’ book is a must read. For most of our country’s history the rules of engagement, its laws, its systems, and the capitalist economy were developed by White men. Even though this has been changing over the past 50 years or so, to be considered successful in our society one must be able to thrive in the institutions that system created. Any system of rewards, (which a capitalist society is one), is constructed to reward its builders, and at the same time make it difficult for others to succeed. This is why antitrust laws exist, why unions were formed, and civil rights legislation needed to be enacted. I guess I understand what she means by “white supremacist capitalist patriarchy” since I just described it. However, in my experience most White people do not consider themselves “white supremacists”. Why? Because that phrase conjures up images of the KKK, lynchings, hate groups, etc., and most civil white people will not and do not identify with that definition and may become angry or hurt if they are accused of being a white supremacist or living in a white supremacist society. Context matters, and again, if your purpose is to educate, then labeling and name calling will result in a lost opportunity.

Another such term is “white fragility”. I need to be careful here not to come across as being fragile about my fragility. I just view this as name calling. Calling someone, or a whole demographic, “fragile” is counterproductive and unnecessary. Another lost opportunity. For those who identify as White, it is not uncommon to get defensive, (I have), or be in denial, (I’ve done that, too), when race and racism is discussed, and we should be made aware when it occurs. But isn’t that the case whenever we are called out for our behavior, for whatever reason? In my mindfulness practice I’ve discovered that I become defensive about many of my behaviors, and I try to recognize it when it occurs. For example, I have a tendency to not accurately “read the room” when I tell a story that might offend someone, and when it is brought to my attention my quick reaction is to become defensive and to insist that I wasn’t trying to be offensive (or similar reaction). In that instance no one would say that I was guilty of “storyteller fragility”. I was being defensive. That said, I agree, in my observations most White people are defensive and/or in denial about systematic racism, their own microaggressions, and their privilege. But a sure way to make anyone more defensive is to call them names. Again, counterproductive and unnecessary.

The term “Uncle Tom” also falls under the category of racially based hurtful name calling. “Uncle Tom," written by Harriet Beecher Stowe in 1852, featured the title character as a “large, broad-chested, powerfully made man … whose truly African features were characterized by an expression of grave and steady good sense, united with much kindliness and benevolence.” He forfeits his own chance at escaping bondage and loses his life to ensure the freedom of other slaves. The stereotype of Uncle Tom is innately submissive, obedient and in constant desire of white approval.[15] For an African American to be labeled and Uncle Tom is damning. It serves no purpose but to ridicule and dehumanize.  Again, words matter!

That said, we cannot whitewash our nation’s abominable history when it comes to racism and casteism. In order for a reckoning to occur, in my opinion, a blunt and honest assessment of that history must be made. Sometimes that will require extremely uncomfortable conversations that call out behaviors that could evoke strong emotions. Hopefully we can do that mindfully, civilly, with compassion and without labeling.

White Privilege and Caste.

In Part 1 I discussed how being a White cisgender male afforded me opportunities that others did not have with respect to my career. It also makes sense that my privilege goes beyond career opportunities. If I am to work to help create equitable opportunities for everyone, then it is imperative that I recognize that my race and gender have placed me near the top of the hierarchal caste pyramid in the United States. History has shown that in almost every society a system of hierarchy is sure to develop. Often this system is the result of domination and power over others. While the USA is in no way unique, the caste system that has develop is one that was the result of hundreds of years of domination by White men, and when it comes to racial domination White women also played an important part. Racism is not casteism and casteism is not racism. However, bluntly, we do have a caste system in the United States, and it is based on race and gender. As per Isabel Wilkerson in her book, “Cast: The Origins of Our Discontent”, “Because caste and race are interwoven in America, it can be hard to separate the two. Any action or institution that mocks, harm, assumes, or attaches inferiority or stereotype on the basis on the social construct of race can be considered racism. Any action or structure that seeks to limit, hold back, or put someone in a defined ranking seeks to keep someone in their place by elevation or denigrating that person on the bases of their perceived category, can be seen as casteism.”[16] Caste systems in other societies, the most infamous one being India, are based on the randomness of birth and not necessarily based on race. A person’s place in an Indian Caste is a result of their ancestry. If your parent was in a Caste category, then you will be in that category. I state this for purposes of clarification and comparison. I maintain that any system that separates people into perceived higher or lower categories is immoral. Casteism and racism share that designation!

Let me be clear and blunt; in the U.S. the caste system is based on race and gender. To eliminate the prevailing U.S. caste hierarchy requires the elimination of racism and sexism. Wilkerson quotes author and activist Lillian Smith, “Nobody could take away from you this whiteness that made you and your life ‘superior’…They could take your house, your job, your firm; they could steal your wages, keep you from acquiring knowledge; they could tax your vote or cheat you out of it: … but they could not strip you of your white skin. It became the poor White’s most precious possession, a ‘charm’ staving off utter dissolution.”[17] In the last few U.S. Presidential elections I frequently heard democrats being baffled why some voters would vote “against their interest” when it came to increased access to health care, more social services, reduced prescription drug costs, increased access to higher education, etc. What I think was being missed with that question is that, for some Whites, they were voting their interests. That is to keep the racially based caste system in place even if that meant forgoing social programs that could benefit them otherwise.

The following is my observation and interpretation. It is not based on any study. The racial rhetoric that became so prevalent in the 2016 Presidential election, the democratic candidate being a woman, and the fact that a non-white was in the White House for the previous eight years, convinced some White voters, especially in poorer regions and especially the men, that their perceived status in the racial caste was being threatened. Even for some White women, having a woman candidate for President may have given them a reason to celebrate, but her “progressive” policies, especially regarding immigration, was perceived as an attempt to help poor non-Whites. Therefore, it was deemed a threat to the status quo of the racial caste. So, to give up the economic and health care benefits that some of the policies would have afforded them, at least in the short-term, their status in the caste was much more important. The slogan for the Trump presidential campaign was as clear and in-your-face as possible. “Make American Great Again”, meant to many (not all) Americans, bring back the status quo, return America to a time when White men were in charge. Because after all, as per Wilkerson, “A person in [the working class] feels: ‘…even though I am poor and uncultured I am somebody important because I belong to the most admirable group in the world – I am white.’”[18]

It is this privilege, this caste system based on race, that I believe is the root of the evils of racism in the United States in the 21st century. Mostly it is the fear of losing their place in that hierarchy that ignites the hate of racists. For a period of 100 years, since the passage of the 13th Amendment to the Constitution in 1865 which outlawed slavery until the mid-1960’s, racial segregation was the law in many states. Most of the media, movies, books etc., describe the motivation of segregation being the perceived superiority of White people who were disgusted with having to, for example, eat alongside, or use the same bathroom as a perceived inferior species. This, of course, was true, but not the whole story. There was an even more sinister and immoral reason to keep the races apart. White men feared that the integration of any other race with White people could reduce or erase their perceived superiority in the U.S. caste system. Segregation was an attempt to prevent marriage and sex between whites and other races to preserve the “superior” White race. David Lane, a member of the white supremacist terrorist group known as The Order created a mantra for white supremacists everywhere, which became known as the infamous “14 Words”, when he said, echoing Adolf Hitler, "We must secure the existence of our people and a future for White children." These segregated states actually passed laws, known as anti-miscegenation laws, that would try to enforce racial segregation at the level of marriage and intimate relationships by making interracial marriage and sex between members of different races illegal. This is all based in fear of losing their perceived superiority and privilege. There are some less sinister ways that white privilege shows up as well, which I will discuss, but I cannot stress strongly enough how fear of losing the perceived place in the racial hierarchy has driven the hate of racism.

White privilege doesn’t always appear as obvious as segregation. Much has been written and discussed in the last few years with regards to “racial profiling”. Racial profiling is the discriminatory practice of targeting individuals as suspicious based on the individual's race, ethnicity, religion or national origin. Profiling occurs in all types of ways. The most talked about is in law enforcement, but it can occur in any social setting. This occurs so often that we now have terms that, while sarcastic in tone, really do tell a story. Terms such as “driving while Black”, “barbequing while Black”, etc.  Just recently there was a story about a considerate neighbor, who was a Black man, who was watering someone else’s lawn while they were away on vacation and was arrested for trespassing because a White person called the police on a “suspicious person” in her neighborhood. I guess we can call that “being neighborly while Black”. Profiling doesn’t always lead to “just” harassment or even arrest. It can be deadly. The many stories of un-armed Black people being shot and killed by law enforcement officers is staggering. Racism at its worst!

In addition, not all profiling incidents end up involving the police. There are many stories of Black people being followed around a store by employees or security guards because they look “suspicious" which is so often a euphemism for “being Black”. I can recall incidents when I was younger when I would try to avoid groups of teenagers who were doing nothing other than being Black. As I was writing this last sentence, I recalled a story that my mom told me that I hadn’t thought of in years, maybe even since she first told me 50 something years ago. The details are vague in my memory, but the gist of the story remains. Most of her jobs were in retail and in one of the stores she was the “Candy Lady”. She worked and managed the candy and nut kiosk. A group of laughing and loud teenagers were in the store and approached her kiosk. Teenagers wanting candy? How crazy is that? – insert sarcasm emoji. But these kids were Black. She told me she was very scared and considered calling for security. When they got to the kiosk, they bought some candy, said “thank you” and went on their way. She told me how angry she was with herself, “they just wanted candy!”, she said. If I had known then what I know now I would have told her that fact that she regretted her reaction was a good thing. She learned something about herself, and that reaction and her fear was a result of all of the conditioning she was subject to over the course of her life. In her heart she knew that they were simply kids wanting to buy some candy. While that was over 50 years ago, incidents like this continue to happen numerous times each day. The pace of education is slow.

How is this related to white privilege? Very simply none of these things would have happened to a White person. Said in another way, while, of course, there are White people who are thought of as suspicious or who are unfairly arrested, but the motivation for these behaviors had nothing to do with the color of their skin. THAT’S THE DIFFERENCE!

White privilege shows up in almost every aspect of public life, such as access to housing (“red-lining”), voting access, access to healthcare, harsher prison sentences, and the list goes on. With regards to my education around racist privilege I was mostly aware of discriminatory practices in our country, and I believe we are finally getting to a place where these practices are finally being recognized for what they are, racist and classist. One part of that education was about access to housing.

In 1995 our family moved into a new town, Maplewood, NJ. This is where we made our home and raised our children. We chose Maplewood for a number of reasons; there was a cute downtown, the housing stock was eclectic and beautiful, it had a paid fire department (yes, that was an important factor), the school district had a very good reputation, and it was a diverse community. We did not want our kids to grow up like we had, in all White communities. Imagine our surprise that after we moved to the community, we heard about an organization called the “Community Coalition on Race” (“CCR”) whose mission was to integrate segregated Maplewood. Apparently real estate agents were only showing certain areas of the town to White potential home buyers, and just as egregious, only showing African American home buyers to the less affluent areas of town. Volunteers from CCR would perform outreach to predominantly African American communities and market the benefits of living in Maplewood because real estate agents refused to do so. The mission of this organization is broader than just combating red-lining (the discriminatory practice of denying services to residents of certain areas based on their race or ethnicity), but this was a huge focus back in the mid-1990’s. I can remember my biased mind thinking, “Is this really necessary?”, but red-lining is a practice and a problem that has a long history.

In my research I came across a blatant example of redlining which occurred during the period immediately following the Civil War known as reconstruction. Freed slaves were promised plots of land to help give them a start. The economy of the Southern states was predominantly based in agriculture and the theory was that if Freedmen (as they were called at the time) were given an opportunity to farm their own land instead of the land of the slave owners they could begin their journey to self-sufficiency. Unfortunately, mostly they were given plots that were not conducive to farming and any of the rich farmland went back to the Whites who were the original slave owners. This resulted in the former slaves all living in areas not integrated with Whites, and forced them to, once again, work for the same White plantation owners for whom they were previously enslaved, mostly at meager wages, or became sharecroppers. The history of Reconstruction and its demise into “Redemption” (the period when the Reconstruction laws were reversed) is a terrible period of our country’s history and I highly recommend reading about it and trying to understand its impact on what was to become of race relations in its aftermath that continues to this day.

Redlining in the housing industry was a way for Whites to continue to have their “privileged” societies and, even more glaring, their perceived superiority. The devastating period known as the Great Depression in the early 20th Century is well documented, and President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s “New Deal” programs were hailed for their ability to pull the country out of an economic and humanitarian disaster. In fact, one of those programs called the Civil Conservation Corps helped my father’s family.  In 1936, at 16 years of age, my dad quit school to go work in a CCC program building roads in Utah. It was a huge financial help to his poverty-stricken family. However, access to these programs was not available to everyone. As part of the New Deal programs, President Roosevelt signed into law the National Housing Act which was to “encourage improvement in housing standards and conditions, to provide a system of mutual mortgage insurance, and for other purposes.”[19] The law created the Federal Housing Administration (FHA) and the Federal Savings and Loan Insurance Corporation (FSLIC) to carry out that mission. Sadly, these new federal agencies “encouraged redlining practices that explicitly marked [Black] neighborhoods as risky investment and, therefore, discouraged bank loans, mortgages, and insurance there. Other policies simply targeted Black communities for isolation and demolition. The post-war programs for urban renewal[20], for instance, destroyed their residences with such regularity the African Americans came to believe, in James Baldwin’s memorable line, that ‘urban renewal meant Negro removal.’”[21] In fact, the term “redlining” came from the maps that were used by the New Deal housing agencies . These maps delineated Black neighborhoods using the color red. Here is an example of one of those maps and part of its legend showing blatant racist declarations…[22]

The fact that in 1995 in supposedly integrated Maplewood, over 60 years after the National Housing Act was signed, it was still necessary that an organization like the CCR was needed to help integrate neighborhoods is an obvious indication that Whites still held on to their privilege with all their might. Unless the fear of losing that privilege is addressed, I fear racism and casteism will live a long frightful life.

Summary – Parts 1 and 2

There is so much to absorb and tackle when trying to understand a concept such as racism that is fraught with fear, anxiety, shame, and hate. In these first two parts of this endeavor, I have tried to portray my education with regards to this very complex and nuanced phenomenon. I have been with this project for the better part of two years and feel that I have only scratched the surface and that there is so much more that I do not know or understand. In theory, love concurs hate, always. But how do we make someone love? How do we change someone’s heart? How do we change dehumanizing behaviors? How do we alter the lessons we have learned in our past that has created a jaundiced view? The only way, really…the only way, is through civil, compassionate dialogue. Through education.

I hope to continue with these essays as there is so much more to say. Until then…

Onward!

Footnotes

[2] Malcom X, with Alex Haley, The Autobiography of Malcolm X, as told to Alex Haley (Ballantine Books, 1964) (p. 371)

[3] Frederick Douglass, Great Speeches by Frederick Douglass (Dover Thrift Editions: Black History) (pp. 88-89). Dover Publications. Kindle Edition.

[4] Rhonda V. Magee, The Inner Work of Racial Justice, Healing Ourselves and Transforming our Communities Through Mindfulness (Penguin Random House, 2019) (p. 53)

[5] Magee, The Inner Work of Racial Justice, (Forward p. 77)

[6] Brené Brown, TED Talks TED2012

[7] Magee, The Inner Work of Racial Justice (p. 15)

[8] William Somerset Maugham, Of Human Bondage, (Simon & Brown, 2001), (P 331)

[9] Magee, The Inner Work of Racial Justice (pp. 80-81)

[10] Magee, The Inner Work of Racial Justice (p. 94)

[11] Magee, The Inner Work of Racial Justice, (p 327)

[12] Magee, The Inner Work of Racial Justice (Forward pp. xi – xii)

[13] Christen Brandt and Tammy Tibbetts, Impact, A Step-by-Step Plan to Create the World You Want to Live In (Public Affairs, 2020), (p 23)

[14] bell hooks, killing rage: Ending Racism, (Henry Holt and Company, Inc – Gloria Watkins, 1995), (P. 21 Kindle Edition)

[15] https://nmaahc.si.edu/explore/stories/popular-and-pervasive-stereotypes-african-americans

[16] Isabel Wilkerson, Cast: The Origins of Our Discontent” (Random House, 2020) (p 70)

[17] Ibid P 182

[18] Ibid, (P 271)

[19] https://livingnewdeal.org/glossary/national-housing-act-1934/#:~:text=The%20purpose%20of%20the%20law,(FSLIC)%20%5B1%5D.

[20] Urban renewal (also called urban regeneration in the United Kingdom and urban redevelopment in the United States[1]) is a program of land redevelopment often used to address urban decay in cities. Urban renewal involves the clearing out of blighted areas in inner cities to clear out slums and create opportunities for higher class housing, businesses, and other developments.

[21] A New Original Story, The 1619 Project, Edited by Nikole Hannah-Jones, Caitlin Roper, Ilena Silverman and Jake Silverstein, (The New York Times Company, 2021, (p 407)

[22] https://storymaps.arcgis.com/stories/4f06e78ca6964a04b968d9b5781499ae