Showing posts with label parenting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parenting. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Free E-Book: How to Be an Anti-Racist Parent
This book is edited by by Carmen Van Kerckhove and available on Anti-Racist Parent.com. The free, downloadable book features contributions from many members of the Anti-Racist Parent community. For more information go here. I highly recommend it!
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
Do "white schools" make white kids racist?
Last month, ABC News reported on a study of elementary and high school students, aimed at finding out whether children use race to socially exclude other children from their groups.
The study of nearly 700 fourth, seventh, and 10th graders of different ethnic and racial backgrounds living in the mid-Atlantic region found that "children and adolescents who had friends from different ethnic backgrounds were significantly more likely to say it is wrong to exclude someone because of their race, citing unfairness or hurting the feelings of the excluded child as reasons."
"In contrast," the article continues, "students who reported few or no cross-race friendships were significantly less likely to view excluding someone on the basis of race as wrong. Their reasons were often based on a lack of familiarity, such as, 'They won't have much in common.'"
Specifically, "European-American children attending 'all-white' schools were more likely than European-American children attending 'mixed ethnicity' schools to use stereotypes when explaining why someone might not be friends with someone, or invite them home to their house, solely because of their race."
This is interesting. At first glance, it makes sense. However, I wonder about the conclusions that can be drawn from this study. Some of the most enlightened white anti-racist activists whose work I read, respect, and learn from, grew up in very homogenous surroundings, comprising of almost only white people. Vegankid, for example, who is part of the Ally Work collective, grew up in a small town with only two families of color. It was Vegankid's sexual identity and his experience as a Queer person that acted as a brigde for his developing of empathy for those affected by racism. You can read Vegankid's Learning Empathy story here.
Like Vegankid, Rachel of Rachel's Tavern, another brilliant anti-racist activist and blogger, grew up around all whites, and her parents, like Vegankid's taught her to treat everyone with respect and dignity. In her piece, Racism and Empathy: Some of My Approximating Experiences, she remembers challenging her white classmates on their racism. For that, she was called a “nigger lover” and threatened. As a result of these experiences, she began to develop a sense of empathy towards people of color. She writes: "I am by no means saying I get everything. I just know what I felt like when these things were directed at me. I knew the fear, the powerlessness, the exasperation, and the anger that racism was creating in me. Because of these experiences (and others), I dedicated myself to fighting racism."
I guess my thoughts on whether integration is really key to lessening racial prejudice in children are mixed. Of course, having friends of color inevitably leads to empathy for those affected by racism, however, maybe the logic in this study is faulty.
I think the failure is in the fact that racism among whites is rarely discussed. White children, in general, receive virtually no anti-racist education. White privilege allows whites to not have to think about race and racism unless directly confronted with it. White children who have friends of color are probably more likely to learn about racism and discuss it in their circles. But this doesn't have to be the case.
As seen in the two stories above, it is completely possible to develop an anti-racist consciousness in a predominantly white environment.
I am by no means advocating segragation. What I am saying is that many people do not have a choice. They live where they live, they go to school where they go to school. Still, lack of a racially diverse environment doesn't and shouldn't have to be an indicator of the degree of race awareness and empathy.
Though I live in the whitest major city in the U.S., though I grew up in a predominantly white society, and though I am married to a white man with whom I have a white child, I feel a moral responsibility to work on helping to eliminate racism. Why couldn't most white children develop the same kind of desire and turn a future study like this on its head? What's stopping them? I am apt to think it's the white adults in their lives who benefit from White Supremacy and white privilege too much to rock the boat. I don't want to be one of those people and I am working very hard to counter, on the one hand, the reality reflected in this study and, on the other, the very stereotype of the bigoted, racist, and ignorant white person from Whiteville that this study perpetuates.
The study of nearly 700 fourth, seventh, and 10th graders of different ethnic and racial backgrounds living in the mid-Atlantic region found that "children and adolescents who had friends from different ethnic backgrounds were significantly more likely to say it is wrong to exclude someone because of their race, citing unfairness or hurting the feelings of the excluded child as reasons."
"In contrast," the article continues, "students who reported few or no cross-race friendships were significantly less likely to view excluding someone on the basis of race as wrong. Their reasons were often based on a lack of familiarity, such as, 'They won't have much in common.'"
Specifically, "European-American children attending 'all-white' schools were more likely than European-American children attending 'mixed ethnicity' schools to use stereotypes when explaining why someone might not be friends with someone, or invite them home to their house, solely because of their race."
This is interesting. At first glance, it makes sense. However, I wonder about the conclusions that can be drawn from this study. Some of the most enlightened white anti-racist activists whose work I read, respect, and learn from, grew up in very homogenous surroundings, comprising of almost only white people. Vegankid, for example, who is part of the Ally Work collective, grew up in a small town with only two families of color. It was Vegankid's sexual identity and his experience as a Queer person that acted as a brigde for his developing of empathy for those affected by racism. You can read Vegankid's Learning Empathy story here.
Like Vegankid, Rachel of Rachel's Tavern, another brilliant anti-racist activist and blogger, grew up around all whites, and her parents, like Vegankid's taught her to treat everyone with respect and dignity. In her piece, Racism and Empathy: Some of My Approximating Experiences, she remembers challenging her white classmates on their racism. For that, she was called a “nigger lover” and threatened. As a result of these experiences, she began to develop a sense of empathy towards people of color. She writes: "I am by no means saying I get everything. I just know what I felt like when these things were directed at me. I knew the fear, the powerlessness, the exasperation, and the anger that racism was creating in me. Because of these experiences (and others), I dedicated myself to fighting racism."
I guess my thoughts on whether integration is really key to lessening racial prejudice in children are mixed. Of course, having friends of color inevitably leads to empathy for those affected by racism, however, maybe the logic in this study is faulty.
I think the failure is in the fact that racism among whites is rarely discussed. White children, in general, receive virtually no anti-racist education. White privilege allows whites to not have to think about race and racism unless directly confronted with it. White children who have friends of color are probably more likely to learn about racism and discuss it in their circles. But this doesn't have to be the case.
As seen in the two stories above, it is completely possible to develop an anti-racist consciousness in a predominantly white environment.
I am by no means advocating segragation. What I am saying is that many people do not have a choice. They live where they live, they go to school where they go to school. Still, lack of a racially diverse environment doesn't and shouldn't have to be an indicator of the degree of race awareness and empathy.
Though I live in the whitest major city in the U.S., though I grew up in a predominantly white society, and though I am married to a white man with whom I have a white child, I feel a moral responsibility to work on helping to eliminate racism. Why couldn't most white children develop the same kind of desire and turn a future study like this on its head? What's stopping them? I am apt to think it's the white adults in their lives who benefit from White Supremacy and white privilege too much to rock the boat. I don't want to be one of those people and I am working very hard to counter, on the one hand, the reality reflected in this study and, on the other, the very stereotype of the bigoted, racist, and ignorant white person from Whiteville that this study perpetuates.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
bookstore adventure
Today I snuck out of work early and stole away to a bookstore to take a look at the multicultural books recommended to me by the readers and contributors to AntiRacistParent.com in response to my column on the lack of diversity in toddler literature.
I spent an (uninterrupted!) hour and a half at the store, which happens to be the largest new and used bookstore in the world. Yes, you guessed it - Powell's Books. I was able to locate only a handful of the recommended titles, and of those only about four actually featured characters of color. Unfortunately, I found some of the illustrations to be of poor esthetic quality. A matter of personal taste and bias, I know.
For example, Spike Lee's Please Baby Please is an excellent concept. I loved the language and the playfulness of the ideas, but the illustrations, I thought, were terrible. The babies on some of the pages seemed misshapen and malformed with stubby arms and strangely twisted bodies and facial expressions that were supposed to be happy, but seemed full of agony. That was too bad, because I loved the text of the book. I know my son would have loved it too.
I was impressed with the Snowy Day Book by Ezra Jack Keats, but summer is about to hit and snow is quite a ways away. Maybe a good Christmas gift?
What disappointed me the most, though, was how few children's books with central, even secondary characters of color were displayed and stocked by the bookstore. By the end of my bookstore experience I was so sick of looking at silly pink and purple animal characters and white people on nearly every page that I felt discouraged. Just like that time I went to the same store looking for birthday cards for two friends of color. All I found were white faces or kitchy and borderline racist Asian-style cards. Man oh man. And I never said anything to the store. I suppose there is still time.
During today's excursion I did decide to browse the international folktale picture book section too though my 21-months-old son is too young for folk tales. But those books were pretty much a horror story as well. Most of the folk tales were Asian, retold by Anglos (because they tell it best - know what I mean?) with illustrations so racist (like this one) that I was shocked. Scary! And why does one have to go to the international section to find books focusing on people of color anyway?
I did buy one picture book that was recommended to me on Anti-Racist Parent. It's called This Jazz Man and is written by Karen Ehrhardt, an African-American author Karen Ehrhardt. The book introduces famous African-American jazz musicians as it counts to nine. It's beautifully illustrated with collages by R.G. Roth. We'll see what my son thinks. It's definitely not a book about construction equipment, which is his latest obsession.
Well, I won't let myself get discouraged so easily by this bookstore experience. I will keep searching. If you have any recommendations on toddler books featuring characters of color, please let me know.
I spent an (uninterrupted!) hour and a half at the store, which happens to be the largest new and used bookstore in the world. Yes, you guessed it - Powell's Books. I was able to locate only a handful of the recommended titles, and of those only about four actually featured characters of color. Unfortunately, I found some of the illustrations to be of poor esthetic quality. A matter of personal taste and bias, I know.
For example, Spike Lee's Please Baby Please is an excellent concept. I loved the language and the playfulness of the ideas, but the illustrations, I thought, were terrible. The babies on some of the pages seemed misshapen and malformed with stubby arms and strangely twisted bodies and facial expressions that were supposed to be happy, but seemed full of agony. That was too bad, because I loved the text of the book. I know my son would have loved it too.
I was impressed with the Snowy Day Book by Ezra Jack Keats, but summer is about to hit and snow is quite a ways away. Maybe a good Christmas gift?
What disappointed me the most, though, was how few children's books with central, even secondary characters of color were displayed and stocked by the bookstore. By the end of my bookstore experience I was so sick of looking at silly pink and purple animal characters and white people on nearly every page that I felt discouraged. Just like that time I went to the same store looking for birthday cards for two friends of color. All I found were white faces or kitchy and borderline racist Asian-style cards. Man oh man. And I never said anything to the store. I suppose there is still time.
During today's excursion I did decide to browse the international folktale picture book section too though my 21-months-old son is too young for folk tales. But those books were pretty much a horror story as well. Most of the folk tales were Asian, retold by Anglos (because they tell it best - know what I mean?) with illustrations so racist (like this one) that I was shocked. Scary! And why does one have to go to the international section to find books focusing on people of color anyway?
I did buy one picture book that was recommended to me on Anti-Racist Parent. It's called This Jazz Man and is written by Karen Ehrhardt, an African-American author Karen Ehrhardt. The book introduces famous African-American jazz musicians as it counts to nine. It's beautifully illustrated with collages by R.G. Roth. We'll see what my son thinks. It's definitely not a book about construction equipment, which is his latest obsession.
Well, I won't let myself get discouraged so easily by this bookstore experience. I will keep searching. If you have any recommendations on toddler books featuring characters of color, please let me know.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
the projectionist syndrome
Here is something I have to be careful about as a parent, especially with a child who has a limited capacity to communicate verbally as he is only a toddler. I'll call it the "Projectionist Syndrome." What I mean by that is that I've noticed that I sometimes have the tendency to project onto my child. I had a little bit of a wake up call a while back. I blogged about the incident here and more importantly here.
What happened was that my son began to cry one day at the supermarket. I totally misinterpreted the reason he cried, thinking it was because he got scared of a dark-skinned black cashier. Not so. He got scared of getting separated from me, which I realized when the incident repeated itself later, but with a white-like-me female cashier about the same age as I.
Such an incident just goes to show that misinterpreting my kid’s motives or behavior as -I don't want to call it racist at this age, but "racial"- can be a real issue – for all of us, I think. Was I projecting my own racist thoughts onto my son? I think so. At least I was definitely racializing my son's thoughts. And that’s not good, especially since I’m trying to be an anti-racist parent.
Since then, I have been trying to withhold judgment when it comes to my son’s reactions to his environment (unless he is outright violent, a common phenomenon at this age, as toddlers test their strength and influence on their surroundings). Instead of trying to interpret my son’s behavior through my own convoluted lens, I have been trying to remain open and to trust that young children are inherently pure and open-minded, unaffected by racism. So far, this has actually been the case. My son seems equally interested in interacting in all the myriad of ways in which he expresses himself with children and adults of various races and ages.
So, to go back to my initial statement, I am trying hard to make sure that I don’t project my own issues onto my son. I guess that is a good general guideline when it comes to parenting period, but especially as related to anti-racist parenting. To counter my tendency to project, I find myself constantly examining my own thought process and catching myself making unfounded judgments or thinking racist thoughts. Then I try to reprogram those ingrained voices. At the same time, I keep reminding myself to withold judgment when it comes to my child's behavior and to just watch and learn with new eyes. Tricky indeed, but I am noticing a huge shift within myself. I hope it's for the wiser...
What happened was that my son began to cry one day at the supermarket. I totally misinterpreted the reason he cried, thinking it was because he got scared of a dark-skinned black cashier. Not so. He got scared of getting separated from me, which I realized when the incident repeated itself later, but with a white-like-me female cashier about the same age as I.
Such an incident just goes to show that misinterpreting my kid’s motives or behavior as -I don't want to call it racist at this age, but "racial"- can be a real issue – for all of us, I think. Was I projecting my own racist thoughts onto my son? I think so. At least I was definitely racializing my son's thoughts. And that’s not good, especially since I’m trying to be an anti-racist parent.
Since then, I have been trying to withhold judgment when it comes to my son’s reactions to his environment (unless he is outright violent, a common phenomenon at this age, as toddlers test their strength and influence on their surroundings). Instead of trying to interpret my son’s behavior through my own convoluted lens, I have been trying to remain open and to trust that young children are inherently pure and open-minded, unaffected by racism. So far, this has actually been the case. My son seems equally interested in interacting in all the myriad of ways in which he expresses himself with children and adults of various races and ages.
So, to go back to my initial statement, I am trying hard to make sure that I don’t project my own issues onto my son. I guess that is a good general guideline when it comes to parenting period, but especially as related to anti-racist parenting. To counter my tendency to project, I find myself constantly examining my own thought process and catching myself making unfounded judgments or thinking racist thoughts. Then I try to reprogram those ingrained voices. At the same time, I keep reminding myself to withold judgment when it comes to my child's behavior and to just watch and learn with new eyes. Tricky indeed, but I am noticing a huge shift within myself. I hope it's for the wiser...
Thursday, April 05, 2007
what does anti-racist parenting/action look like?
Well, I'm thinking a lot these days about what anti-racist action looks like - for me, anyways. I'm actually having a hard time separating acting against racism from anti-racist parenting. I think it's all one and the same. I say that now while my son is still a toddler. That may change as issues associated with race come into play when he's older. At that point, there will, I'm sure be very specific parenting "techniques" that I will have to explore and employ.
I tend to think about things broadly. I see so many connections between things that sometimes it's hard to focus on something specific. So right now, anti-racist parenting has, for me, been about about the following:
- educating myself about racism, white privilege, and white supremacy
- challenging my own thought patterns and prejudices
- evaluating and altering my son's environment to make it inclusive of diverse people and messages (activities we do and books we read, mostly)
- writing and talking about my experiences & what I learn, esp. with white people with the intent of checking my thinking and nudging people to put anti-racist action to the forefront of their lives
- connecting with like-minded people to again, check my thinking, learn more, and continue feeling energized and inspired to do the work
- taking several larger scale initiatives (e.g. letters to the editor & continuing my membership to support a local independent community radio station, which airs excellent public affairs programs as well as shows by and about communities of color)
The part that I hope to improve upon is challenging racist speech and prejudices in my environment. I still find myself, most of the time, having difficulty doing this. I have challenged some stereotypes I've heard people say, but these interjections have been far and few between. I think I just need more practice.
What does anti-racist action look like for you, anti-racist parents, if you could generalize about some things you focus on?
I tend to think about things broadly. I see so many connections between things that sometimes it's hard to focus on something specific. So right now, anti-racist parenting has, for me, been about about the following:
- educating myself about racism, white privilege, and white supremacy
- challenging my own thought patterns and prejudices
- evaluating and altering my son's environment to make it inclusive of diverse people and messages (activities we do and books we read, mostly)
- writing and talking about my experiences & what I learn, esp. with white people with the intent of checking my thinking and nudging people to put anti-racist action to the forefront of their lives
- connecting with like-minded people to again, check my thinking, learn more, and continue feeling energized and inspired to do the work
- taking several larger scale initiatives (e.g. letters to the editor & continuing my membership to support a local independent community radio station, which airs excellent public affairs programs as well as shows by and about communities of color)
The part that I hope to improve upon is challenging racist speech and prejudices in my environment. I still find myself, most of the time, having difficulty doing this. I have challenged some stereotypes I've heard people say, but these interjections have been far and few between. I think I just need more practice.
What does anti-racist action look like for you, anti-racist parents, if you could generalize about some things you focus on?
Saturday, March 31, 2007
Why I keep Disney out of my home (for now)
Okay, I'll admit it. I am not a fan of Disney and so far, I have chosen not to bring any Disney items into my home or my child's life. Now he is a toddler. When he's older, however, and the "nag factor" becomes something to reckon with, he will likely ask for some of Disney's products or "experiences". We'll figure out how to deal with that when we get to that point.
While I choose to keep Disney out for now, I do acknowledge Walt Disney to be a powerful force among today's "culture shapers." (Why, there is a whole school of thought called Disney Studies, dedicated to the study of Disney's influence on society.) I have thought about that quite a bit lately in light of the recent buzz regarding Disney announcing its production of The Frog Princess, the first animated film by the company featuring a black princess. Though I am well aware of the significance of this diversification effort and the need for more multicultural characters in mainstream children's entertainment, I am skeptical.
Given Disney's trademark tendency to sanitize and simplify the complexities of life in the world of its characters, I doubt this film will be groundbreaking in dealing with any social issues. In fact, it will probably not go there at all. The truth is, as Times Online reports, Disney "lags behind other children's brands in its conversion to multiculturalism." Some of the press is already saying that Disney is making this movie to ward off accusations of racism. Plus, another motivation is clearly that a character of color will expand Disney's marketability and profits.
Though Disney is committed to "to producing unparalleled entertainment experiences based on its rich legacy of quality creative content and exceptional storytelling," and promises to "turn the ordinary into the extraordinary" as well as "make dreams come true," the company's mission is first and foremost to "maximize earnings and cash flow, and to allocate capital profitability toward growth initiatives that will drive long-term shareholder value."
And that's what the Frog Princess is all about. If in the process of raking in the dough for Disney, Maddy saves the day by magically erasing Disney's record of racist portrayals of characters of color, as some are already hoping she will, yipee. I'm sorry to put it so blatantly, but it seems to me that Disney, with the help of the press, is out there already pimping poor Maddy, who may very well fit the bill of the role of female "Magic Negro," there to assuage white guilt and any notion that racism is alive and well (at Disney and elsewhere in the society).
What's more, given Disney's huge presence in the cultural & consumerist landscape worldwide, as well as its pattern of whitewashing history, I worry that Disney may be trying to play a part in wiping out any lingering post-Katrina racism-related “beef” and promoting instead the idea that New Orleans, where Princess Frog will be set, is back to its original Jazz Age splendor. It's already touting that image. The shareholders' meeting was held in New Orleans and I can imagine the hype for the movie, replete with all the products, will begin well before the movie's release. Many will say that any effort to help the area still recovering from Katrina is good. And Disney has, as Orlando Sentinel reports,
donated"more than $3 million to Gulf Coast rebuilding efforts, including $1 million to rebuild 16 Boys & Girls Clubs that were destroyed." However, I am concerned that Disney's powerful, sugar-coated voice will drown out the voices (such as these or these) still asking the tough questions and pressing for racial justice in light of Katrina.
But I'm not just skeptical of Disney's latest. I'm wary of Disney on the whole. I feel that Disney movies and products inhibit children's imagination and steer children away from challenging reading, storytelling, unstructured drawing, and the other more old-fashioned ways of entertainment and learning.
Also, Disney esthetics just don't sit well with me. I find them nauseating. From the schmaltzy music to the look of the animated characters. The esthetic Disney represents to is kitsch, which I would define in trite, sentimental, commercially produced stuff in bad taste.
The Czech writer Milan Kundera, in his book The Unbearable Lightness of Being provides an interesting way of thinking about kitsch. He defines it as "the absolute denial of shit" and argues that kitsch functions by excluding from view everything that humans find difficult to come to terms with, offering instead a sanitised view of the world in which "all answers are given in advance and preclude any questions."
That is exactly what I feel Disney movies and characters do. Kundera further links kitsch with totalitarianism in that its nature is to paper over the complexities and contraditions of real life. To further borrow wording from wikipedia, in a healthy democracy, diverse interest groups compete and negotiate with one another to produce a generally acceptable consensus; by contrast, "everything that infringes on kitsch," including individualism, doubt, and irony, "must be banished for life" in order for kitsch to survive. Therefore, Kundera wrote, "Whenever a single political movement corners power we find ourselves in the realm of totalitarian kitsch."
I think that is a brilliant analysis. And if we agree that Disney fits the definition of kitsch, we can see how it then inhibits imagination by crowding out any diversion from the esthetics it dictates.
Then there is the whole whitewashing aspect of history I mentioned earlier, as well as Disney's shadowy (anti-Semitic, anti-communist, and possibly pro-Nazi) side, which I have a hard time disassociating with the company and its products.
Well, that's my two cents on Disney so far. I'm sure I will return to this topic at some point.
While I choose to keep Disney out for now, I do acknowledge Walt Disney to be a powerful force among today's "culture shapers." (Why, there is a whole school of thought called Disney Studies, dedicated to the study of Disney's influence on society.) I have thought about that quite a bit lately in light of the recent buzz regarding Disney announcing its production of The Frog Princess, the first animated film by the company featuring a black princess. Though I am well aware of the significance of this diversification effort and the need for more multicultural characters in mainstream children's entertainment, I am skeptical.
Given Disney's trademark tendency to sanitize and simplify the complexities of life in the world of its characters, I doubt this film will be groundbreaking in dealing with any social issues. In fact, it will probably not go there at all. The truth is, as Times Online reports, Disney "lags behind other children's brands in its conversion to multiculturalism." Some of the press is already saying that Disney is making this movie to ward off accusations of racism. Plus, another motivation is clearly that a character of color will expand Disney's marketability and profits.
Though Disney is committed to "to producing unparalleled entertainment experiences based on its rich legacy of quality creative content and exceptional storytelling," and promises to "turn the ordinary into the extraordinary" as well as "make dreams come true," the company's mission is first and foremost to "maximize earnings and cash flow, and to allocate capital profitability toward growth initiatives that will drive long-term shareholder value."
And that's what the Frog Princess is all about. If in the process of raking in the dough for Disney, Maddy saves the day by magically erasing Disney's record of racist portrayals of characters of color, as some are already hoping she will, yipee. I'm sorry to put it so blatantly, but it seems to me that Disney, with the help of the press, is out there already pimping poor Maddy, who may very well fit the bill of the role of female "Magic Negro," there to assuage white guilt and any notion that racism is alive and well (at Disney and elsewhere in the society).
What's more, given Disney's huge presence in the cultural & consumerist landscape worldwide, as well as its pattern of whitewashing history, I worry that Disney may be trying to play a part in wiping out any lingering post-Katrina racism-related “beef” and promoting instead the idea that New Orleans, where Princess Frog will be set, is back to its original Jazz Age splendor. It's already touting that image. The shareholders' meeting was held in New Orleans and I can imagine the hype for the movie, replete with all the products, will begin well before the movie's release. Many will say that any effort to help the area still recovering from Katrina is good. And Disney has, as Orlando Sentinel reports,
donated"more than $3 million to Gulf Coast rebuilding efforts, including $1 million to rebuild 16 Boys & Girls Clubs that were destroyed." However, I am concerned that Disney's powerful, sugar-coated voice will drown out the voices (such as these or these) still asking the tough questions and pressing for racial justice in light of Katrina.
But I'm not just skeptical of Disney's latest. I'm wary of Disney on the whole. I feel that Disney movies and products inhibit children's imagination and steer children away from challenging reading, storytelling, unstructured drawing, and the other more old-fashioned ways of entertainment and learning.
Also, Disney esthetics just don't sit well with me. I find them nauseating. From the schmaltzy music to the look of the animated characters. The esthetic Disney represents to is kitsch, which I would define in trite, sentimental, commercially produced stuff in bad taste.
The Czech writer Milan Kundera, in his book The Unbearable Lightness of Being provides an interesting way of thinking about kitsch. He defines it as "the absolute denial of shit" and argues that kitsch functions by excluding from view everything that humans find difficult to come to terms with, offering instead a sanitised view of the world in which "all answers are given in advance and preclude any questions."
That is exactly what I feel Disney movies and characters do. Kundera further links kitsch with totalitarianism in that its nature is to paper over the complexities and contraditions of real life. To further borrow wording from wikipedia, in a healthy democracy, diverse interest groups compete and negotiate with one another to produce a generally acceptable consensus; by contrast, "everything that infringes on kitsch," including individualism, doubt, and irony, "must be banished for life" in order for kitsch to survive. Therefore, Kundera wrote, "Whenever a single political movement corners power we find ourselves in the realm of totalitarian kitsch."
I think that is a brilliant analysis. And if we agree that Disney fits the definition of kitsch, we can see how it then inhibits imagination by crowding out any diversion from the esthetics it dictates.
Then there is the whole whitewashing aspect of history I mentioned earlier, as well as Disney's shadowy (anti-Semitic, anti-communist, and possibly pro-Nazi) side, which I have a hard time disassociating with the company and its products.
Well, that's my two cents on Disney so far. I'm sure I will return to this topic at some point.
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
my many colored days
I'm disappointed. I took my son to a thrift store today and bought a few toys, including a pink stroller and a black doll, and books. He was getting a bit antsy, so I only skimmed the books before I bought them.
When we got home, I read one of them, My Many Colored Days by Dr. Seuss, with my son. The illustrations are beautiful paintings by Steve Johnson and Lou Fancher. And my son and I usually enjoy Dr. Seuss books, but this one... oy vey!
The "narrator" of the book is a yellow-orange gingerbreadman-like figure who talks about the different ways s/he feels on different days. The feelings are all based on colors. The pages dealing with colors that don't usually describe skin colors are fine: "Gray Day... Everything is gray. I watch. But nothing moves today." or "Then all of a sudden I'm a circus seal! On my Orange Days that's how I feel." Okay, fine. Those are generally happy or neutral, inoculous feelings and pictures.
But when we get to colors that are typically used to describe skin color or race, take a look at this:
"Some days, of course, feel sort of Brown. Then I feel slow and low, low down."
"Then come my Black Days. Mad. And loud. I howl. I growl at every cloud." This page, of course, has some sort of a wild boar or dog with big teeth and a mean expression, growling at the sky. Scary!
How about our "multiracial page" with gingerbread people of all different colors? "Then comes a Mixed-Up Day. And Wham! I don't know who or what I am!"
Of course, there is also the yellow page. I really hope that no one describes Asians as yellow anymore, but I have to quote here: "Then comes a Yellow Day. I am a busy, buzzy bee." Where the other pages had just one animal each, this one has a swarm of bees with indistinguishable features, all flying in the same direction.
Finally, after going through all the colors, including the confusing multi-color page, the narrator concludes: "But it all turns out all right, you see. And I go back to being . . . me." Phew! So relieved our gingerbreadman with green eyes doesn't have to feel black, brown, or all mixed up from too many colors confusing his days.
Well, I could go into a detailed explanation of what racial stereotypes each of those skin color pages reinforce, but I'll just leave it that. So much for a book linking certain colors with certain feelings or characteristics. Very disappointing, to say the least.
When we got home, I read one of them, My Many Colored Days by Dr. Seuss, with my son. The illustrations are beautiful paintings by Steve Johnson and Lou Fancher. And my son and I usually enjoy Dr. Seuss books, but this one... oy vey!
The "narrator" of the book is a yellow-orange gingerbreadman-like figure who talks about the different ways s/he feels on different days. The feelings are all based on colors. The pages dealing with colors that don't usually describe skin colors are fine: "Gray Day... Everything is gray. I watch. But nothing moves today." or "Then all of a sudden I'm a circus seal! On my Orange Days that's how I feel." Okay, fine. Those are generally happy or neutral, inoculous feelings and pictures.
But when we get to colors that are typically used to describe skin color or race, take a look at this:
"Some days, of course, feel sort of Brown. Then I feel slow and low, low down."
"Then come my Black Days. Mad. And loud. I howl. I growl at every cloud." This page, of course, has some sort of a wild boar or dog with big teeth and a mean expression, growling at the sky. Scary!
How about our "multiracial page" with gingerbread people of all different colors? "Then comes a Mixed-Up Day. And Wham! I don't know who or what I am!"
Of course, there is also the yellow page. I really hope that no one describes Asians as yellow anymore, but I have to quote here: "Then comes a Yellow Day. I am a busy, buzzy bee." Where the other pages had just one animal each, this one has a swarm of bees with indistinguishable features, all flying in the same direction.
Finally, after going through all the colors, including the confusing multi-color page, the narrator concludes: "But it all turns out all right, you see. And I go back to being . . . me." Phew! So relieved our gingerbreadman with green eyes doesn't have to feel black, brown, or all mixed up from too many colors confusing his days.
Well, I could go into a detailed explanation of what racial stereotypes each of those skin color pages reinforce, but I'll just leave it that. So much for a book linking certain colors with certain feelings or characteristics. Very disappointing, to say the least.
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
take the gum wrapper and run
Today my son “Jay” and I were at the park, running from swing set to slide to merry-go-round, our usual routine, when a city park employee truck pulled in. The man in the truck said hello to Jay, we greeted him back. He proceeded to pick up and dispose of garbage laying around the park with those cool giant tongs and a bucket in hand. Since one of my son’s greatest obsessions in life is garbage (“gaba” was one of his first words), I pointed at the man in the distance and narrated the man’s activity for Jay: “Yes, the man is picking up garbage that he will throw away.” Jay, of course, got excited. He began picking up garbage himself and yelling about it enthusiastically.
At first I said, “fuj”, the Czech word for yuck, trying to deter him from touching the trash, but then I realized that the gum wrapper he picked up off the grass was probably no more germ-ridden than the rock or stick he had just played with. It occurred to me that it may be confusing to insist he not pick up and throw away a piece of paper in the park, but to expect him to participate in cleaning up at home. Also, it felt funny to be telling my son not to help the Latino man cleaning up the park in which we, the two white people, were the only visitors leisurely taking in the sunshine. My 18-month-old son doesn’t yet make the distinctions between our garbage and someone else’s garbage; my job, your job, or his job… The two voices inside me debated: Do I suspend the rules that we don’t ever touch trash outside the house? Do I indulge my son just this time and sacrifice a little bit of my germ phobia for his s sense of satisfaction from cooperation and a job well-done?
Instead of squashing his joy and sending a message I did not want to send - that we must squelch our desire to help, or that we are too good to pick up trash, or that garbage is for “the brown people” to deal with - I decided to just go with the flow. Why not encourage Jay in helping the man? It really is a lovely thing that he wants so badly to be useful. We’ll resume with our germ theory lessons next time (idea as I write this: maybe with two sticks as our make-shift tongs), I thought. So, I said: “That’s right. Let’s help the man pick up the trash.”
Jay carried his gum wrapper all the way across the park and handed it to the man. “Thank you,” said the man as he threw the wrapper in his bucket. Mission accomplished. One wrapper and the toddler, with his one-minute attention span was on to the next thing.
Maybe I was way overanalyzing the situation, but what I know is that though my son is little now, he remembers a lot. And what I wanted him to remember at the end of the day was not sitting on the sidelines passively in disappointment or fear of yucky things, but the feeling of joy and satisfaction that comes with being helpful.
At first I said, “fuj”, the Czech word for yuck, trying to deter him from touching the trash, but then I realized that the gum wrapper he picked up off the grass was probably no more germ-ridden than the rock or stick he had just played with. It occurred to me that it may be confusing to insist he not pick up and throw away a piece of paper in the park, but to expect him to participate in cleaning up at home. Also, it felt funny to be telling my son not to help the Latino man cleaning up the park in which we, the two white people, were the only visitors leisurely taking in the sunshine. My 18-month-old son doesn’t yet make the distinctions between our garbage and someone else’s garbage; my job, your job, or his job… The two voices inside me debated: Do I suspend the rules that we don’t ever touch trash outside the house? Do I indulge my son just this time and sacrifice a little bit of my germ phobia for his s sense of satisfaction from cooperation and a job well-done?
Instead of squashing his joy and sending a message I did not want to send - that we must squelch our desire to help, or that we are too good to pick up trash, or that garbage is for “the brown people” to deal with - I decided to just go with the flow. Why not encourage Jay in helping the man? It really is a lovely thing that he wants so badly to be useful. We’ll resume with our germ theory lessons next time (idea as I write this: maybe with two sticks as our make-shift tongs), I thought. So, I said: “That’s right. Let’s help the man pick up the trash.”
Jay carried his gum wrapper all the way across the park and handed it to the man. “Thank you,” said the man as he threw the wrapper in his bucket. Mission accomplished. One wrapper and the toddler, with his one-minute attention span was on to the next thing.
Maybe I was way overanalyzing the situation, but what I know is that though my son is little now, he remembers a lot. And what I wanted him to remember at the end of the day was not sitting on the sidelines passively in disappointment or fear of yucky things, but the feeling of joy and satisfaction that comes with being helpful.
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Tracing Race: one immigrant's journey from race awareness to anti-racist consciousness
I have often pondered what it is that my husband and I had in common in our lives before we met. We share many of the same values, though we grew up in different parts of the world in very different environments. We both grew up in small families with a lot of quiet time to ourselves, respect for nature, close siblings, and often minimal, yet loving supervision. Those are the commonalities we've known about for a while, but only recently did we both realize that one of the experiences we both had was that of growing up white in a homogeneous community, comprised almost exclusively of other white people.
Unlike my husband, who is American, I am a white European immigrant to the U.S. who grew up in the Czech Republic, a former communist country, where whites make up about 96 to 98% of the population. As a comparison, my husband's home state's white population is about 90% of the total.
This is interesting. We are now white parents of a white child in the whitest major city in the U.S. (coincidence?) and are working on our own race awareness and thinking about how to raise our child in an anti-racist way. In order to parent this way, I find that I have to do a lot of soul searching. How have I thought of "race" throughout my life? What was I taught about the concept and how do I perpetuate what I was taught? What kinds of things do I want to perpetuate and how are these related to what's ingrained in me? In order to begin to answer some of these questions, I need to look at my early experiences and how these have shaped me.
In my country of birth, the largest racial minority of color are the Roma people, a self-identifying term of a group also known as Gypsies. According to unofficial estimates by the Human Rights Committee of the United Nations and the European Roma Rights Center, there are approximately 200,000 Roma living in the Czech Republic. This would make the Roma people about 2% of the total population, though on the census the numbers are much lower, one of the reasons being mistrust of the government and historically-based fear of categorization and discrimination based on race.
The second largest group of color are the Vietnamese, who, according to the census make up about 0.2% of the population.
Because I grew up in such a homogeneous culture, having had only a couple of short-lived friendships with a few Romani children when I was very young, I was very sheltered from the concepts of race and racial diversity, though not from the concept of racism. The only memories of outright racist comments I have were those made by whites about the Roma. These had to usually do with stereotypes regarding negative personal characteristics that white Czechs commonly attribute to this group. I also remember jokes about Asians. You know, the ching-chong-style ones a la Rosie O'Donnell.
Despite this, I don't remember having any negative feelings about any groups based on race growing up. Maybe a little bit of fear around groups of Roma, because of the stereotype that many Roma are pickpockets. Mostly I din't think about race. It just wasn't on my radar.
I do remember feeling confused about why the Romani kids in my class were dropping out one by one until there were none left by the third grade. Today I know more about institutionalized racism in the Czech school system (and all other sectors, for that matter) and about the racist practice of segregating disproportionately large numbers (between 46 and 75%!) of Romani kids in special education schools. It is estimated that between 75 and 85 percent of all Romani children drop out of "mainstream" schools. Why? Much of it has to do with discrimination, absence of inclusive curriculum and multicultural teaching techniques, the lack of diversity among school staff, and in general, a sense of alienation these children often experience in, let's face it, racist and hegemonic institutions. From my own observations and readings I've done, I have found that this parallels the experiences of many minority and immigrant children in the U.S.
Because people of color and whites live very separately in the Czech Republic and because a vast majority of the only children of color with which I came into contact left school, the majority of my childhood was spent surrounded solely by whites. It was at the age of fourteen that I suddenly found myself in an environment where whites made up only the tiniest minority - maybe 2%, in my own estimate.
When my family immigrated to the U.S., I began attending a high school program for new immigrants. The majority of the students were Asian and African. The school had some Latinos and just a handful of Europeans. Three or four of us, I think. I was thrilled. Ecstatic, in fact. "So many new people to befriend! So many cultures to learn about!" I remember thinking. Freshmen year I had three best friends: a girl from Ethiopia, a Romanian girl, and a girl from Laos. I flirted with a boy from the Philippines and began learning vocabulary and phrases in all the above languages. I felt totally in my element.
When my English got "better", I was transferred to another alternative program, this one catering to American-born teens returning to school after having dropped out. Many of these students, or so I was told, had been in gangs or were teenage parents. All students but two in this program were black. Only one of the students, an African-American girl became my friend, but we never really got that close because there just wasn't enough contact time. The foreign children and I shared the experience of being new to the U.S. and learning English as a foreign language. The African-American girl and I seemed to have very little in common other than attending a school where "rejects" congregated.
After a year in two alternative programs, my Ethiopian friend and I were transferred to our neighborhood high school. I felt a sense of community with the other English as a Second Language (ESL) students, but the ESL classes were academically not challenging enough for me. Mainstream classes were too difficult, because I was still new to the English language. My friend and I skipped classes together and talked and joked freely about race and race relations, albeit in what many would now call politically incorrect terms. This was my first opportunity to reflect with another person on the questions of race.
On Ally Work, a blog dedicated to "helping White people fight White Supremacy", contributors Rachel and vegankid talk about the significance of approximating moments in the development of empathy needed for anti-racist work. To quote Rachel, "approximating moments are a way Whites can develop more empathetic orientations. . . that help Whites grasp what it is like to be the victim of racial discrimination."
One such defining moment, I remember clearly, occurred when my Ethiopian friend related a story of traveling to the city, where ironically I live now, shortly after an Ethiopian man was murdered here by racist white skinheads. My friend was terrified. Hearing her talk about this had an enormous impact on me.
At the time of our friendship, I began to feel like a social outcast, because school wasn't working out for me since my mainstream American teachers didn't have the skills or time to include English language learners. Maybe that's why I gravitated towards others in the school that may have been perceived as "outcasts" by the school system.
My first love interest in regular high school was an African-American boy who ended up in "juvie" . At the time I became obsessed with listening to rap, R&B and African-influenced world music. Though I couldn't understand most of the rap songs I listened to, I thought I had "found my groove." I was mad about white on black racism, though I had a very limited understanding of the underlying historical context. Around that time I began dating my first boyfriend, who was also African-American. I hoped to have a child with him, because I believed that if races mixed, racism would be eliminated. A few other interracial relationships followed. This intense race awareness-building phase lasted a couple of years and while in it, I managed to humiliate myself thanks to some very awkward and insulting interactions I initiated and ridiculous papers I produced in college.
In college, I also learned about my family history. Though I knew that my father was Jewish, I didn't know that most of his family members were imprisoned and died in concentration camps. I had heard a sanitized version of this as a child, but, perhaps because my family wanted to protect me emotionally, I hadn't really ever learned what all of this meant. I was also not in touch with my father and we reconnected during my college years. He came to visit me and told me stories about his parents and relatives and gave me a little star of David pendant. This was another defining approximating experience for me that shook me to the core.
Other than friends, authors like June Jordan and Tony Morrison opened my eyes to racism and oppression.
The strangest paradox of that time is this: Perhaps because I was so ignorant and naive (though teaming with compassion for the oppressed), I felt completely free to pursue friendships with anyone and say whatever was on my mind. Now that I know more (of course there is still so much to learn!), I am more reserved and fearful of bridging the gaps I, too, was socialized to internalize.
The quiet, inward phase of learning about oppression and trying to understand the inner workings of this culture and my place in it lasted many years. I have lived in the U.S. for nearly two decades, but it has taken me this long to finally begin to be able to put my finger on what it is I have experienced and observed here.
The new phase of my life, as I see it now, is about continuing to learn (and unlearn much of what I've internalized), but also about talking about this process, taking a stance, and following through with action. After all, that is why I started this blog. I look forward to linking up with other allies in this work, because it is crucial to not work on this in isolation.
I don't want to be paralyzed by the fear of saying something wrong or the fear of being punished if I stick my neck out and act against injustice. I want to take responsibility for the white privilege I've inhereted and help dismantle white supremacy. Though I may have once been a stranger in this land, this is my home now. And I do come from Europe, the cradle of white supremacy. And because I am beginning to see clearly how racism plays out, it is my responsibility to work towards social justice. I vow to continue doing internal work, an essential step towards becoming an anti-racist parent, and to follow up with action in a more public sphere. What that looks like will begin to materialize the more I focus on anti-racism work.
Unlike my husband, who is American, I am a white European immigrant to the U.S. who grew up in the Czech Republic, a former communist country, where whites make up about 96 to 98% of the population. As a comparison, my husband's home state's white population is about 90% of the total.
This is interesting. We are now white parents of a white child in the whitest major city in the U.S. (coincidence?) and are working on our own race awareness and thinking about how to raise our child in an anti-racist way. In order to parent this way, I find that I have to do a lot of soul searching. How have I thought of "race" throughout my life? What was I taught about the concept and how do I perpetuate what I was taught? What kinds of things do I want to perpetuate and how are these related to what's ingrained in me? In order to begin to answer some of these questions, I need to look at my early experiences and how these have shaped me.
In my country of birth, the largest racial minority of color are the Roma people, a self-identifying term of a group also known as Gypsies. According to unofficial estimates by the Human Rights Committee of the United Nations and the European Roma Rights Center, there are approximately 200,000 Roma living in the Czech Republic. This would make the Roma people about 2% of the total population, though on the census the numbers are much lower, one of the reasons being mistrust of the government and historically-based fear of categorization and discrimination based on race.
The second largest group of color are the Vietnamese, who, according to the census make up about 0.2% of the population.
Because I grew up in such a homogeneous culture, having had only a couple of short-lived friendships with a few Romani children when I was very young, I was very sheltered from the concepts of race and racial diversity, though not from the concept of racism. The only memories of outright racist comments I have were those made by whites about the Roma. These had to usually do with stereotypes regarding negative personal characteristics that white Czechs commonly attribute to this group. I also remember jokes about Asians. You know, the ching-chong-style ones a la Rosie O'Donnell.
Despite this, I don't remember having any negative feelings about any groups based on race growing up. Maybe a little bit of fear around groups of Roma, because of the stereotype that many Roma are pickpockets. Mostly I din't think about race. It just wasn't on my radar.
I do remember feeling confused about why the Romani kids in my class were dropping out one by one until there were none left by the third grade. Today I know more about institutionalized racism in the Czech school system (and all other sectors, for that matter) and about the racist practice of segregating disproportionately large numbers (between 46 and 75%!) of Romani kids in special education schools. It is estimated that between 75 and 85 percent of all Romani children drop out of "mainstream" schools. Why? Much of it has to do with discrimination, absence of inclusive curriculum and multicultural teaching techniques, the lack of diversity among school staff, and in general, a sense of alienation these children often experience in, let's face it, racist and hegemonic institutions. From my own observations and readings I've done, I have found that this parallels the experiences of many minority and immigrant children in the U.S.
Because people of color and whites live very separately in the Czech Republic and because a vast majority of the only children of color with which I came into contact left school, the majority of my childhood was spent surrounded solely by whites. It was at the age of fourteen that I suddenly found myself in an environment where whites made up only the tiniest minority - maybe 2%, in my own estimate.
When my family immigrated to the U.S., I began attending a high school program for new immigrants. The majority of the students were Asian and African. The school had some Latinos and just a handful of Europeans. Three or four of us, I think. I was thrilled. Ecstatic, in fact. "So many new people to befriend! So many cultures to learn about!" I remember thinking. Freshmen year I had three best friends: a girl from Ethiopia, a Romanian girl, and a girl from Laos. I flirted with a boy from the Philippines and began learning vocabulary and phrases in all the above languages. I felt totally in my element.
When my English got "better", I was transferred to another alternative program, this one catering to American-born teens returning to school after having dropped out. Many of these students, or so I was told, had been in gangs or were teenage parents. All students but two in this program were black. Only one of the students, an African-American girl became my friend, but we never really got that close because there just wasn't enough contact time. The foreign children and I shared the experience of being new to the U.S. and learning English as a foreign language. The African-American girl and I seemed to have very little in common other than attending a school where "rejects" congregated.
After a year in two alternative programs, my Ethiopian friend and I were transferred to our neighborhood high school. I felt a sense of community with the other English as a Second Language (ESL) students, but the ESL classes were academically not challenging enough for me. Mainstream classes were too difficult, because I was still new to the English language. My friend and I skipped classes together and talked and joked freely about race and race relations, albeit in what many would now call politically incorrect terms. This was my first opportunity to reflect with another person on the questions of race.
On Ally Work, a blog dedicated to "helping White people fight White Supremacy", contributors Rachel and vegankid talk about the significance of approximating moments in the development of empathy needed for anti-racist work. To quote Rachel, "approximating moments are a way Whites can develop more empathetic orientations. . . that help Whites grasp what it is like to be the victim of racial discrimination."
One such defining moment, I remember clearly, occurred when my Ethiopian friend related a story of traveling to the city, where ironically I live now, shortly after an Ethiopian man was murdered here by racist white skinheads. My friend was terrified. Hearing her talk about this had an enormous impact on me.
At the time of our friendship, I began to feel like a social outcast, because school wasn't working out for me since my mainstream American teachers didn't have the skills or time to include English language learners. Maybe that's why I gravitated towards others in the school that may have been perceived as "outcasts" by the school system.
My first love interest in regular high school was an African-American boy who ended up in "juvie" . At the time I became obsessed with listening to rap, R&B and African-influenced world music. Though I couldn't understand most of the rap songs I listened to, I thought I had "found my groove." I was mad about white on black racism, though I had a very limited understanding of the underlying historical context. Around that time I began dating my first boyfriend, who was also African-American. I hoped to have a child with him, because I believed that if races mixed, racism would be eliminated. A few other interracial relationships followed. This intense race awareness-building phase lasted a couple of years and while in it, I managed to humiliate myself thanks to some very awkward and insulting interactions I initiated and ridiculous papers I produced in college.
In college, I also learned about my family history. Though I knew that my father was Jewish, I didn't know that most of his family members were imprisoned and died in concentration camps. I had heard a sanitized version of this as a child, but, perhaps because my family wanted to protect me emotionally, I hadn't really ever learned what all of this meant. I was also not in touch with my father and we reconnected during my college years. He came to visit me and told me stories about his parents and relatives and gave me a little star of David pendant. This was another defining approximating experience for me that shook me to the core.
Other than friends, authors like June Jordan and Tony Morrison opened my eyes to racism and oppression.
The strangest paradox of that time is this: Perhaps because I was so ignorant and naive (though teaming with compassion for the oppressed), I felt completely free to pursue friendships with anyone and say whatever was on my mind. Now that I know more (of course there is still so much to learn!), I am more reserved and fearful of bridging the gaps I, too, was socialized to internalize.
The quiet, inward phase of learning about oppression and trying to understand the inner workings of this culture and my place in it lasted many years. I have lived in the U.S. for nearly two decades, but it has taken me this long to finally begin to be able to put my finger on what it is I have experienced and observed here.
The new phase of my life, as I see it now, is about continuing to learn (and unlearn much of what I've internalized), but also about talking about this process, taking a stance, and following through with action. After all, that is why I started this blog. I look forward to linking up with other allies in this work, because it is crucial to not work on this in isolation.
I don't want to be paralyzed by the fear of saying something wrong or the fear of being punished if I stick my neck out and act against injustice. I want to take responsibility for the white privilege I've inhereted and help dismantle white supremacy. Though I may have once been a stranger in this land, this is my home now. And I do come from Europe, the cradle of white supremacy. And because I am beginning to see clearly how racism plays out, it is my responsibility to work towards social justice. I vow to continue doing internal work, an essential step towards becoming an anti-racist parent, and to follow up with action in a more public sphere. What that looks like will begin to materialize the more I focus on anti-racism work.
Monday, February 19, 2007
my bad
Remember my anti-racist parenting 101 post a while back? Well, I learned a lesson. When "Jay" started crying at the store last month, I thought he was crying because he was scared of the cashier who was black. Last week we went to the same store and our cashier was a white woman about my age. Again, I had to step closer to the credit card machine as she pushed the shopping cart behind the counter to get the groceries out of it, thus separating Jay, still in the cart, from me. And... Jay began to cry. The separation seemed too much and he was scared. The same exact scenario played itself out again today. Again, the cashier was a young white woman. So much for projecting racialized reasoning onto my son. Interesting the way my adult mind connected things like that. Shouldn't be so quick to judge. My bad.
- Tereza Topferova
- Tereza Topferova
Friday, February 02, 2007
A little discomfort, if you please
I am intrigued by the idea that teaching our children (and ourselves) to be comfortable with discomfort could be one of the foundations for an anti-racist life ahead. This came up in one of Susan's posts and before that I was already thinking along the same lines. I think this comfort with discomfort, which can then translate into a willingness to continue with important but difficult grapplings, is really key to helping dismantle the "isms" in our lives. Instilling the patience and desire in our children to stick with people and issues even when things get hard for the greater good is so important.
In our society, the touted values - instant gratification, individualism, and a care-free existence, contradict the values key to building a more just and equitable society. It strikes me that in order to transform our society and ourselves, we must focus on goals diametrically opposed to what we are taught matters. (I know I'm generalizing. But I'm just talking about what I perceive to be mainstream U.S. values - i.e. middle class Anglo/Protestant values.) The main thing is to learn to trust others more and to build stronger ties with our neighbors and community, even our friends. In general as a society, we must learn deep empathy and accept that difficult issues we may never stop grappling with are a part of life and that it is healthy, even exciting sometimes, to have to wrestle with things. All of this contradicts what mainstream media and socialization into the mainstream teaches us.
Buy, don't grapple
Advertising (including product placement in movies and TV shows) has a lot to do with how we develop emotionally as Americans. Advertisers bombard us with images of the ideal life - carefree and happy-go-lucky. And this lifestyle is supposed to be something we're entitled to; our prerogative, which adds another dimension to the emotional equation. Of course, corporations want us to look to their products for solutions. Products, we are taught, can fix any kind of problem for us instantly, whether it be a stain on a shirt, a dirty window, or social anxiety. So, if there is an item or service we can buy or dream of buying, why do the work ourselves? At the same time, we are made to feel more insecure by the advertising we see. We question our looks, our lifestyles, tastes... And all this makes us the perfect consumers, because our insecurities and emotional needs trap us in a web of buying or dreaming of buying. I, for example, though I'm not very materialistic, do find a strange sense of false hope and excitement in buying something once in a while, whether it's new or used or useful or not. I am definitely guilty of projecting hopes and dreams onto items I buy sometimes. And I am conscious of this and am trying to figure out how to become less attached to things and more deeply trusting of people.
But my point is that in order to become better citizens and human beings, we must stop being the perfect consumers, precisely because consumerism encourages values such as individualism, selfishness, a sense of entitlement, and discourages trust in our own capabilities and closeness with others, two of the many makings of a caring, just society.
So, how do we do this? The messages are so pervasive that it's hard to keep them from colonizing our minds, but I try. I want to model strong friendships and trust in others more. Many of us live pretty isolated lives filled with work and so it's hard to get enough contact time with friends and family. That feels very unnatural to me. But I'm trying to be more present with my friends literally and figuratively, so my son sees that.
But as far as advertising, at my house, we have packed up our TV and put it in the basement. We listen to very little radio that plays ads. We don't buy toys or clothing which display huge brand names or messages that perpetuate inequalities or insecurities, etc. My family tends to de-emphasize the materialistic. Most everything we own, including furniture, is found, hand-me-down, or used. I don't mean to preach. I'm just brainstorming here. I'm sure the pressure to buy stuff and watch TV will increase as my child grows older and becomes aware of advertising and who has what. And then I will have a harder time shutting out "the messages," so I will have to teach him to be critical of the media.
The comfort of the right answers
There is an interesting article I read a while back that has stayed with me. The article is not directly related to the topic at hand, but it has some excellent food for thought relevant to anti-racist parenting.
In her piece Standardized Tests: A Clear and Pleasant Danger, published in Rethinking Schools: An Agenda for Change, Dr. Terri Meier, professor at Wheelock College specializing in cross-cultural communication and language development, discusses language socialization among different groups of children. She cites studies which have revealed some fascinating patterns:
How does this tie into anti-racist parenting? The middle-class emphasis on knowing and displaying the knowledge of right answers strikes me as directly related to the comfort/discomfort question. If right answers are so important and we're praised as children (at home or IN SCHOOL) for regurgitating them... the faster the better, this is the pattern we may learn. We want to do good, be good, be accepted, so we learn this style of communication and the values accompanying it. But what happens in situations when there are no right answers or when we have to work as a community to come up with answers together instead of racing to be the first one = the winner? What happens when there is no one to praise us? Catch my drift? Maybe anti-racist parenting extends even to this - the values we communicate on a daily basis to our children in the way we read with them or through the types of questions we ask. What do you think?
In our society, the touted values - instant gratification, individualism, and a care-free existence, contradict the values key to building a more just and equitable society. It strikes me that in order to transform our society and ourselves, we must focus on goals diametrically opposed to what we are taught matters. (I know I'm generalizing. But I'm just talking about what I perceive to be mainstream U.S. values - i.e. middle class Anglo/Protestant values.) The main thing is to learn to trust others more and to build stronger ties with our neighbors and community, even our friends. In general as a society, we must learn deep empathy and accept that difficult issues we may never stop grappling with are a part of life and that it is healthy, even exciting sometimes, to have to wrestle with things. All of this contradicts what mainstream media and socialization into the mainstream teaches us.
Buy, don't grapple
Advertising (including product placement in movies and TV shows) has a lot to do with how we develop emotionally as Americans. Advertisers bombard us with images of the ideal life - carefree and happy-go-lucky. And this lifestyle is supposed to be something we're entitled to; our prerogative, which adds another dimension to the emotional equation. Of course, corporations want us to look to their products for solutions. Products, we are taught, can fix any kind of problem for us instantly, whether it be a stain on a shirt, a dirty window, or social anxiety. So, if there is an item or service we can buy or dream of buying, why do the work ourselves? At the same time, we are made to feel more insecure by the advertising we see. We question our looks, our lifestyles, tastes... And all this makes us the perfect consumers, because our insecurities and emotional needs trap us in a web of buying or dreaming of buying. I, for example, though I'm not very materialistic, do find a strange sense of false hope and excitement in buying something once in a while, whether it's new or used or useful or not. I am definitely guilty of projecting hopes and dreams onto items I buy sometimes. And I am conscious of this and am trying to figure out how to become less attached to things and more deeply trusting of people.
But my point is that in order to become better citizens and human beings, we must stop being the perfect consumers, precisely because consumerism encourages values such as individualism, selfishness, a sense of entitlement, and discourages trust in our own capabilities and closeness with others, two of the many makings of a caring, just society.
So, how do we do this? The messages are so pervasive that it's hard to keep them from colonizing our minds, but I try. I want to model strong friendships and trust in others more. Many of us live pretty isolated lives filled with work and so it's hard to get enough contact time with friends and family. That feels very unnatural to me. But I'm trying to be more present with my friends literally and figuratively, so my son sees that.
But as far as advertising, at my house, we have packed up our TV and put it in the basement. We listen to very little radio that plays ads. We don't buy toys or clothing which display huge brand names or messages that perpetuate inequalities or insecurities, etc. My family tends to de-emphasize the materialistic. Most everything we own, including furniture, is found, hand-me-down, or used. I don't mean to preach. I'm just brainstorming here. I'm sure the pressure to buy stuff and watch TV will increase as my child grows older and becomes aware of advertising and who has what. And then I will have a harder time shutting out "the messages," so I will have to teach him to be critical of the media.
The comfort of the right answers
There is an interesting article I read a while back that has stayed with me. The article is not directly related to the topic at hand, but it has some excellent food for thought relevant to anti-racist parenting.
In her piece Standardized Tests: A Clear and Pleasant Danger, published in Rethinking Schools: An Agenda for Change, Dr. Terri Meier, professor at Wheelock College specializing in cross-cultural communication and language development, discusses language socialization among different groups of children. She cites studies which have revealed some fascinating patterns:
Numerous studies of language socialization in white middle-class communities indicate that the largest percentage of questions addressed to preschoolers by mothers and other primary caregivers consists of simply structured questions to which the questioner already has the answer (e.g., "How many eyes do you have?"; "What color is this dolly's dress?"; How many fingers is mommy holding up?"). The purpose of such questions is not for the questioner to gain information, but for the child to display information, for which she is typically rewarded with extensive verbal and non-verbal praise.
When reading stories to preschool children, many middle-class parents often intersperse their reading with questions that focus the child's attention on noting and recalling specific details of the text.
. . . Research indicates that many working-class and minority children come to school with very different values and assumptions about what constitutes meaningful communication. In a 1983 study, Shirley Brice Heath found that in the working-class black community where she spent eleven years studying language socialization, children were almost never asked questions to which the adult or older child already knew the answer. According to Heath's data, the most prevalent type of question addressed to preschoolers in this community was the "analogy question," calling for an open-ended response drawn from the child's experience (e.g., "What do you think you are?" to a child crawling under the furniture). Other frequently asked questions were "story starters" (e.g., "Did you see Maggies' dog yesterday?") and accusations (e.g., "What's that all over your face?"). But very seldom were they asked test-type questions, the assumption being, why would you ask someone something you already know the answer to?
Reading was also often perceived differently, according to Heath. It tended to be a social event in which listeners, young and old, were free to throw in comments or to elaborate on some connection with their personal experience, rather than a context for testing children's reading comprehension or teaching appropriate school behaviors. People in this community were admired for their ability to tell a good story, draw insightful analogies, or present an interesting and unique point of view, rather than for their ability to display information or show off knowledge for its own sake.
How does this tie into anti-racist parenting? The middle-class emphasis on knowing and displaying the knowledge of right answers strikes me as directly related to the comfort/discomfort question. If right answers are so important and we're praised as children (at home or IN SCHOOL) for regurgitating them... the faster the better, this is the pattern we may learn. We want to do good, be good, be accepted, so we learn this style of communication and the values accompanying it. But what happens in situations when there are no right answers or when we have to work as a community to come up with answers together instead of racing to be the first one = the winner? What happens when there is no one to praise us? Catch my drift? Maybe anti-racist parenting extends even to this - the values we communicate on a daily basis to our children in the way we read with them or through the types of questions we ask. What do you think?
Thursday, January 25, 2007
anti-racist parenting 101
Okay, yes, I started this blog. But I'm scared to post any of my thoughts on the subject of anti-racist parenting. Hmmm...interesting thing to notice. I'm afraid of sounding foolish, dumb, ignorant, trite... But I have to just go for it and post anyway. Otherwise, I'll just be living inside my head and never getting feedback and thus never growing. This blog is supposed to be a safe place to discuss unlearning and challenging racism, so, here is a posting from another one of my blogs where I write about all things trivial and not so trivial related to motherhood.
***
I've been thinking a lot about how, as a white parent, I should go about raising my child to be a person who harbors no racial prejudice, and whats more, becomes a person who fights racism when he's older. It's easy to forego thinking about race and racism as a white person. That is, afterall, one aspect of white privilege. I do have the choice to NOT devote any energy to this topic. But precisely because I am white and aware of the existence and gravity of racism in this society as perpetuated by whites, I feel compelled to do something about it. And with that urge to challenge the racism instilled in me and my immediate surrroundings comes fear.
The safest thing is to think and read about the topic. Then it's inside my head for just me to mull over. And yes, the learning phase is an important and ongoing phase. But, there comes a point when one has to take action, whether it's through discussing the issues with others in or outside one's circle (i.e. on this blog) or in other ways. That is where things get scary.
My biggest fear is feeling shame, rejection and hurt. As we grow up (and I'm talking about white people here), we learn what is socially acceptable and what is not, which of course varies somewhat depending on our communities, but overall, any discourse about race is pretty much taboo. But, I should hope that this is true, we are naturally curious about all kinds of people, especially as children. However, our curiosity is often squelched because it's just not socially acceptable to, for example, ask out loud about people's skin color or hair texture. So, we get instantly hushed or shamed. That is not a good start. Immediately we learn that certain types of differences, in this case "racial" differences (racial in quotes because "race" is really a biologically unfounded social construct), are taboo. Something to perhaps ponder silently, but to never speak about. This is how any discourse on "race" is extinguished from the start.
What I just described is the level of communication where a parent can start. Instead of shushing a child who is naturally curious about people who look different from him, the parent can encourage the dialogue and explain to the child that yes, people have different degrees of pigmentation, etc. and make sure the subject doesn't get tagged as taboo in the child's mind.
The other way that as a mother of a toddler I can begin the journey of anti-racist parenting, is by exposing the child to people that look different in very ordinary circumstances - play groups, books with photographs, etc. I know that sounds overly simple and trite, but it is a way to start. And I emphasize start.
I am, of course, already worried that I'm failing in this regard. I do go and socialize with random groups with my son, but he does not see people that are all that racially different. This is just because of the way our city's demographics happen to be. But I do question my choices of the places where I take "Jay". Do I choose the places according to my own comfort level with the families that frequent these particular community centers and libraries?
The children with which Jay interacts are mostly white and Asian. To illustrate my fear that I am failing anti-racist parenting 101, let me share with you a brief anecdote. The other day we went to the store and our cashier was a very dark skinned black man. At the point when I separated from Jay and stepped closer to the credit card reader and the cashier pulled the shopping car with Jay in it slightly behind the cash register to begin unloading the groceries, Jay suddenly had this freightened look on his face and began to cry. The man gave Jay a sticker and told him he was his friend. Jay stopped crying and became more comfortable. But it was interesting to observe my own reaction to the situation. I was pretty certain that Jay became scared of the man because he looked so different from the other people he was used to seeing. I noticed feeling paralyzed and unsure of what to say or how to react. Should I have said, "Oh, Jay. Look at this nice man. Say hello to the nice man?" (I want to thank a friend of mine here for suggesting I rephrase more positively my original response which read: "Oh, Jay, don't worry. Look at this nice man. You don't have to be scared of him.") Of course, Jay is too young to understand a sentence like that, but he can understand emotional tones. Instead of saying anything, I let the cashier deal with the situation. How lame of me. That's what white people tend to do. Stay paralyzed and let people of color navigate the uncomfortable situation for them. And that too is racism.
So, now I've publicly processed this encounter and have hopefully learned something by "thinking aloud."
That's it for my first installment of my thoughts on anti-racist parenting.
- Tereza Topferova
***
I've been thinking a lot about how, as a white parent, I should go about raising my child to be a person who harbors no racial prejudice, and whats more, becomes a person who fights racism when he's older. It's easy to forego thinking about race and racism as a white person. That is, afterall, one aspect of white privilege. I do have the choice to NOT devote any energy to this topic. But precisely because I am white and aware of the existence and gravity of racism in this society as perpetuated by whites, I feel compelled to do something about it. And with that urge to challenge the racism instilled in me and my immediate surrroundings comes fear.
The safest thing is to think and read about the topic. Then it's inside my head for just me to mull over. And yes, the learning phase is an important and ongoing phase. But, there comes a point when one has to take action, whether it's through discussing the issues with others in or outside one's circle (i.e. on this blog) or in other ways. That is where things get scary.
My biggest fear is feeling shame, rejection and hurt. As we grow up (and I'm talking about white people here), we learn what is socially acceptable and what is not, which of course varies somewhat depending on our communities, but overall, any discourse about race is pretty much taboo. But, I should hope that this is true, we are naturally curious about all kinds of people, especially as children. However, our curiosity is often squelched because it's just not socially acceptable to, for example, ask out loud about people's skin color or hair texture. So, we get instantly hushed or shamed. That is not a good start. Immediately we learn that certain types of differences, in this case "racial" differences (racial in quotes because "race" is really a biologically unfounded social construct), are taboo. Something to perhaps ponder silently, but to never speak about. This is how any discourse on "race" is extinguished from the start.
What I just described is the level of communication where a parent can start. Instead of shushing a child who is naturally curious about people who look different from him, the parent can encourage the dialogue and explain to the child that yes, people have different degrees of pigmentation, etc. and make sure the subject doesn't get tagged as taboo in the child's mind.
The other way that as a mother of a toddler I can begin the journey of anti-racist parenting, is by exposing the child to people that look different in very ordinary circumstances - play groups, books with photographs, etc. I know that sounds overly simple and trite, but it is a way to start. And I emphasize start.
I am, of course, already worried that I'm failing in this regard. I do go and socialize with random groups with my son, but he does not see people that are all that racially different. This is just because of the way our city's demographics happen to be. But I do question my choices of the places where I take "Jay". Do I choose the places according to my own comfort level with the families that frequent these particular community centers and libraries?
The children with which Jay interacts are mostly white and Asian. To illustrate my fear that I am failing anti-racist parenting 101, let me share with you a brief anecdote. The other day we went to the store and our cashier was a very dark skinned black man. At the point when I separated from Jay and stepped closer to the credit card reader and the cashier pulled the shopping car with Jay in it slightly behind the cash register to begin unloading the groceries, Jay suddenly had this freightened look on his face and began to cry. The man gave Jay a sticker and told him he was his friend. Jay stopped crying and became more comfortable. But it was interesting to observe my own reaction to the situation. I was pretty certain that Jay became scared of the man because he looked so different from the other people he was used to seeing. I noticed feeling paralyzed and unsure of what to say or how to react. Should I have said, "Oh, Jay. Look at this nice man. Say hello to the nice man?" (I want to thank a friend of mine here for suggesting I rephrase more positively my original response which read: "Oh, Jay, don't worry. Look at this nice man. You don't have to be scared of him.") Of course, Jay is too young to understand a sentence like that, but he can understand emotional tones. Instead of saying anything, I let the cashier deal with the situation. How lame of me. That's what white people tend to do. Stay paralyzed and let people of color navigate the uncomfortable situation for them. And that too is racism.
So, now I've publicly processed this encounter and have hopefully learned something by "thinking aloud."
That's it for my first installment of my thoughts on anti-racist parenting.
- Tereza Topferova
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