#WakingUpWhite Chapter 11: Headwinds and Tailwinds

“Skin color itself is not the barrier; it’s the beliefs attached to it. And beliefs, compared to birth dates or other more tangible barriers, are harder to pinpoint and also much harder to change.”

The chapters are starting to get down into the weeds now, and it’s getting thornier to navigate. This chapter explores the systems that create systemic racism. Helpfully, it does not just say that systemic racism is a thing, but it explores the interlocking small systems that make up the bigger system. The systemic part of the systems—they all work together in their small cycles to become one big Krebs cycle of racism.

This reveals something in me that I feel, right now, and that is the feeling of “I can’t seem to do anything to destroy systemic racism. The inputs are too strong, and the system flows are too powerful, and the outputs are too desirable. What can I do? I’ll just be nice to people, I guess.”

For the systems are in place to produce the desired results. This is something I first heard from Ta-Nehisi Coates about eight or so years ago, and I didn’t understand it. I accepted it as likely true, but it seemed almost as if “who could really say what was wanted?” Then I’ve done a little more work on my own—witness my attempts to re-create the exercise on systemic racism in housing. This chapter helped a bit more to understand how several systems work to produce an output that, by itself, can seem harmless, but that the end result is the perpetuation of embedded racism. Few people along the way are going to admit what is going on with the part they are responsible for turning, but the result is the perfect outcome of the system design.

This is something we learned about in our seminar yesterday held by James Whitfield (see my previous blog entry “To Wrestle with the Angel”). Systems exist, and systems produce outputs, and systems produce the outputs they’re designed to produce. There is no “broken system.” The system might produce broken people or broken communities, but it’s designed to do that.

There is a great reference to a Nightline program from 1999, about circumstances in 1996 that led to the nearly inevitable death of a young black mother anxious to get to work to help support her baby:

“In 1995 a Buffalo, New York, black teenager named Cynthia Wiggins was hit by a truck while crossing the road. She died from her injuries. The driver didn’t see her; it was by all accounts an accident. As it turns out, however, it was a preventable accident.”

Now, Nightline is not saying that a better crosswalk by itself would have helped save Ms Wiggins. Or better road conditions. Or a better bus stop. Or a better transportation system. Or better crime data. Or better understanding of black lives as compared to white lives. Or better job prospects close to home for black residents. Or a better support system for poor black residents of Buffalo. Or a better social system for unwed mothers. Or a better community involvement in the lives of black residents. Or…

As Nightline goes through all the systems, it begins to seem clear that in very few cases did anything say “if we do this, what will the outputs be for all the possible inputs?” The bus system, for example, was designed for the convenience of the passengers and for the personal biases of the white business community anxious to keep the urban poor from intermingling with white customers in their white-centered mall. Black residents, of course, had the same color money as white residents, but black residents were not wanted at the mall where Cynthia found her job, two bus rides away. A few almost careless, but perhaps deliberate, decisions in planning, and the result was a bus route that could have gone directly from Cynthia’s neighborhood to stop at the sidewalk entrance to the mall was changed so that it bypassed the mall entirely, requiring Cynthia to get off the one bus, wait for a transfer to another bus, and then be let off across the seven-lane highway that was a major transportation route with heavy industrial traffic.

What would make a business want to keep away customers and put employees in danger? No one actually said this out loud in their decisions. But it was unstated: “if poor black people want jobs in our part of town, they’ll have to take risks. And if they want to improve their lot, they’re going to have to make some sacrifices.” Sacrifices white residents were not required or willing to make.

Debby Irving calls this the headwinds and tailwinds. In some cases, we sail along because the tailwinds improve our speed. Good neighborhood, good schools, good family, good support system, good connections, good character—all these are tailwinds that we white people can take for granted. (Not every white person has the tailwinds, of course. But many do.) In opposition are the headwinds, the resistance we might get if we are not a favored racial class. The headwinds are not just one thing. A neighborhood of rundown housing, lack of fresh food or shopping, broken sidewalks and streetlamps, no transportation, terrible schools with broken windows and outdated schoolbooks, dispirited teachers lacking resources, few options for entertainment and creativity, lack of role models, lack of access to events and activities outside the neighborhood, families broken by poverty (having to have both parents work at jobs that are a long distance away removes much of the parental love and supervision that families with single breadwinners or even just with jobs that are relatively easy to get to means a lot), families broken by crime and the justice system (although black and white Americans break laws at about the same rates, black Americans, especially black males, are incarcerated at rates astonishingly higher than white females, for example—the data I last checked showed a difference of 1:111), lack of successful peers and mentors for that leg up and a good reference and a job connection—it adds up. It is a constant hurricane of headwinds that none but the strongest can survive and thrive. I have friends in the community who are BBIPOC (Black, Brown, Indigenous, and People of Color). Some of them are very, very successful—far more than I am. But they are exceptional in their success, as they are exceptional in their talents and drive. I, on the other hand, am really a B+ student with middling abilities who got a continual series of lucky breaks—for which I am grateful!—and I’ve had a solid career and have been employed for 30 years in the industry I love (technical communications). I literally cannot imagine someone who was not white having the same set of “lucky breaks.” I can point out to my own set of systems that helped me get where I am, and that also excluded those who are like me in almost every respect except for their appearance and gender.

This is not to conclude with “Tsk, tsk—poor black people…what can we do to help them?” Black people in America are neither stupid nor incapable. They have exactly the same kinds of drive and intelligence and ingenuity about life as anyone else on this planet. Not exotic. Just excluded. Because what they are is discriminated against through the systems that lock them out of white prosperity and comfort. Destroy the discrimination, destroy the systems, and black Americans will thrive in exactly the same ways as any white American does.

This chapter doesn’t give clues on how to break the systems. But it gives good reason to think that the systems, having been designed by humans, especially white humans, can be destroyed by those same humans, especially white humans.


Question:

Consider each of these tangible and intangible aspects of your life: work, sense of belonging, social connections, choice, education, healthy food, legal protection, housing, transportation, medical care. How easy or hard has it been for you to attain each?

Work

I have found jobs when I needed them, doing things that I thought were interesting and that I thought I could do if I just tried. On staff at a church (three times). Running a bookstore. Running a restaurant with $1M/annual sales & staff of 100+. Working in a pallet-making factory. Working in construction. Being an instructor in computer tech. Writing user education manuals. Writing end-user content for computer systems. Managing writers. Mentoring technical employees. Editing technical content for cloud computing. I just found interesting jobs and applied for them. I had some background each time, so it wasn’t entirely de novo, but I never really have used my college major of history.

Sense of belonging

I almost never have an experience where I am not in the majority in some way. Typically it is white male. Sometimes it is just white. Sometimes it is male. I am being totally honest here—I feel as if I can enter any group and be a part of it, and it’s only in the last few years that I have realized that this is not a good trait or a good comfort, and I am working to wait to be invited—if ever—to groups that I have not yet become a part of.

Social connections

I feel confident I can be at least trusted and respected by anyone, and I am confident to “work the room” to find new people to talk to because I love talking to people and listening to their stories. I never feel as if there is an instant and insurmountable barrier.

Choice

Not sure what this means except maybe that I feel as if I can choose what I want? If that is the meaning, then yeah, I have this.

Education

Education was free to me during my young life, and even in my early adult years education was cheap and easy to get to. I did not try for the University of California system, but I had no fear I would not be accepted. I’ve never been declined from any school I’ve enrolled in—I still take classes for personal development and enrichment, and I always feel as if I’ll “make it” with some diligence.

Healthy food

I always expect to find a place for healthy food, whether it’s groceries or restaurants, and when I find a substandard location, I don’t feel as if I have no other options.

Legal protection

To start with, I am utterly confident I’ll never be arrested because of course I never commit crimes, so why would I ever be arrested? I’ve been stopped for traffic violations a few times, and each time I am utterly confident that I can be respectful to the officer and they will be respectful to me—and it has been exactly so, every time.

Housing

I’ve never been turned down for an apartment or a mortgage, and have always felt like I was the chooser or decider. I’ve always found a place to live where I can choose the kinds of neighbors I want.

Transportation

Except for a very few years post-high school, I’ve never lacked a car. I’ve tried some alternate transportation (a moped), but quickly abandoned that idea after a winter in the rain. I’ve never had to depend upon a bus, even though I use a bus now for efficiency and time management—if the bus fails to operate, I always have a car as a backup. I can take a flight wherever I want & not worry about the mechanical details of permissions or passports & being blocked by policy.

Medical care

I’ve never had to worry that medical care wasn’t available. My insurance has been through my job, and as I’ve been employed full-time for 40 years, there have been only two circumstances (between jobs, early on) where I had no insurance. Medical costs, of course, are exploding, and I am reserved about treatments, but I know that if I need help I’ll get it somehow.

Summary

Pretty much I feel that I’ve experienced the “normal” American life, and have little conscious idea that my experience might not be typical for those who are BBIPOC. I know in my intellectual mind that my confidence is grossly misplaced, and that poor whites and others who might not be as poor have far fewer options and in many cases the options are of far less quality. I know a bit more from my friends in the BBIPOC community that their experiences with the law and the justice system have been brutal and antagonistic for things that I don’t even have a matching experience for. I know that my expectation that “life is fair” is simply unknown to my BBIPOC friends. I’m working to both grasp my own ignorance and careless opinions, and to go into the lives of my friends so I can become aware of the lives they live and the experiences they have, so that as a result I’ll be more informed and more empathetic and more real as a human.


For context on this series, see my kick-off post here:

http://stephenmatlock.com/2019/01/if-i-love-you-i-have-to-make-you-conscious-of-the-things-you-dont-see/

To follow along with the others, see also:

Di Brown “Nixie” at https://dianabrown.net/blog-challenge-waking-up-white/

This chapter: https://dianabrown.net/waking-up-white-chapter-11/

Dawn Claflin at https://dawnclaflin.wordpress.com/

4 Comments

  1. “Good neighborhood, good schools, good family, good support system, good connections, good character—all these are tailwinds that we white people can take for granted. (Not every white person has the tailwinds, of course. But many do.) In opposition are the headwinds, the resistance we might get if we are not a favored racial class.”

    You’ve seen the meme/expression “Privilege doesn’t mean you haven’t had hardships. It just means the color of your skin wasn’t one of them.”? I think the headwinds/tailwinds analogy really draws that in a way that might be easier for “underprivileged whites” like our family to see. You had a lot of tailwinds I didn’t have – no denying it. What we have in common is that neither of us had the “Dark Skin” headwind.

    “But they are exceptional in their success, as they are exceptional in their talents and drive. I, on the other hand, am really a B+ student with middling abilities who got a continual series of lucky breaks—for which I am grateful!”

    And I’m an honors student with a certain determination who has had some good luck/decisions along the way. Mulling over what this means about the overall equation.

    privileged start + white skin = success
    underprivileged start + academic success + determination + white skin [can =] success
    underprivileged start + academic success + determination + black skin [can =] ??

    “This is not to conclude with “Tsk, tsk—poor black people…what can we do to help them?”… Destroy the discrimination, destroy the systems, and black Americans will thrive in exactly the same ways as any white American does.”

    Because that’s the real question. “tsk, tsk – what shall we do to stop hurting them?”

    1. Indeed. There are some stark realities and uncomfortable statements that have to be made, outside the niceties of politeness and the veneer of respectability.

      White people and our white systems hurt black people. Period.

      The headwinds aren’t just inconveniences. They’re blocks and diversions. And they go on for generations.

      Did I get lucky? Yes. I’ve used my adaptability and my street smarts to fit into a variety of positions. But I was able to do so because the system works to allow people like me to succeed if we try just a little.

    2. Also, what’s weird/invisible to me is that I did have advantages all along, and I didn’t think once that I had them. I was the B+ student, as I said. Not on the AP track. Not on the college track. I was on the “bless your heart” track. Higher Ed for me was taking interesting classes while I worked part- or full-time, for my own interests, rather than as a way to fit into a track. I picked history as a major because I liked history (and still do), but without a thought of what I’d do with a degree in history. (Spoiler: a history major is a requirement for a job teaching history.) And the end result of my curious nature and unconscious freedom was the ability to try a dozen types of jobs before I settled on technical writing and editing (which is not the same as being a history teacher, if truth be told).

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