At first I didn’t know where this chapter was going. “Belonging” sounded as if there was some sense where Ms. Irving might be feeling that she has “arrived” at a place of understanding, where she can see the big picture and her part in whole.
But it’s not about that, and I was surprised with the direction.
This is about the tendency of white folks to feel like they belong everywhere. Ms. Irving focuses on the school environment, because she was a volunteer or participant at so many levels, including being on committees to help bring about and embrace “diversity.”
There was a problem with that, though, in that she wasn’t aware of a significant path that was more open to her than to her community of color, and that there were significant hurdles to understanding and participant that blocked the way of that community to participate in the way the white community did.
And we’re still only half-way through the book, so we are still in the discovering and unearthing stage. No real answers are available yet. (And given that I don’t know how the book ends, I have no idea if there will be such a thing.)
“Once again, I saw my role as a helpful one. And once again I was wrong.”
The insight was great here, and it singed me—I do this as well. “I can help,” so I step in and I help. A new thought for me is “perhaps your help isn’t needed—or wanted.”
“Without thinking about the repercussions of our actions, we deepen white bonds and strengthen the voice of the white parents.”
The good thing here is that this isn’t seen as some nefarious or negative motive by white parents. It’s entirely normal, that if you feel like something is yours, you live in it, whether it is your home, the mall, your church, or the school classroom. Of course you are welcomed there, and of course you build bonds with the others who are there, and of course you entirely forget about the ones who aren’t there—the ones who aren’t volunteering like you or working like you or sacrificing like you.
“The more white parents like me—already comfortable in America’s public spaces—bonded and took over, the more uncomfortable the school culture became for families of color.”
I found this interesting, because it explained something I couldn’t put my finger on—in my experience (which is limited), even in somewhat diverse environments, white people seem to be in charge, or seem to take charge. In private with my friends in the communities of color, I see differentiation and relationships, but in the public meetings and organizations there is much less individuality and participation.
“White people, in general, grew up with a sense of belonging in America, while people of color did not.”
This is sadly true, now, and has been sadly true for 400+ years. America is for white people. American government is for white people. American culture is for white people. American benefits are for white people. There is some spillage into the communities of color, but for the most part, the experience of these communities which exist as pockets in white America is that they are the other, they are dangerous, they are a threat, and they are dismissible and erasable.
“Saturating our culture is the ultimate message: ‘Belonging to Club America is primarily for white folks.’”
Yep. White people are just people. White culture is just culture. White religion is just religion. White schools are just schools. White presidents are just presidents. It’s hard for white people to see this because we’ve been enculturated to belief/see this as natural and normal. “Why can’t you just assimilate and become non-hyphenated Americans?” We do not—and will not—see that we are not neutral or unbiased or ordinary. It is not just people in the communities of culture in America who see us white people as a distinct thing. It is everyone in the world who encounters us. White people are white, not a skin-color designation, but a cultural, behavioral description.
“I grew up believing that the government existed to provide services—schools, highways, law enforcement—to its citizens, me included.”
Yep. I don’t think it was until the last eight or so years that I finally started listening to my friends and their experiences with the police, with schools, with businesses, with churches, with government services. Everyone can complain, of course, but the breaking point for me was when a black friend told me about his repeated stop-and-frisks by the city police (and others) that never had done that to me. We’re both residents, and yet his experience was one of continued harassment and disbelief and suspicion by the people whom I think are there to protect me, not harass me. I told him he was wrong, and that he was imagining it—yeah, I’ve done that thing. But the stories continued, and then there was the cell phone videos he provided. I’m ashamed to say that I didn’t believe my friend the very first time he told me, and I have no excuse. I can say that my manner of belief in the “goodness” of government was so strong that a friend couldn’t shake it with only his words—I needed video proof. Whiteness is a drug that zombifies us. It makes us believe that we are thinking when we are doing the exact opposite—we are simply repeating words that we believe over the stories and experiences of those we claim to love and respect.
“I grew up believing the police were there to protect me.”
Me, too. It is a half-way truth, in that such a reason is given for the necessity of the police force, and I have friends who are in the police force. But there is also the awkwardness of the reality that believing the police to be there to protect me is not
“What must it feel like when providers of life’s most basic goods and services aren’t seen as there for you? Or, even worse, are seen as against you?”
This is an interesting question, but if you know people of color—especially black people, to be perfectly frank with you—you can get this answered. You have to listen, though, and not interrupt, not clarify for them what they mean, not tell them they misunderstand.
“For me to say to a black person, ‘The police aren’t there to judge or suspect your kid! What’s wrong with you that you think that? They’re here to help. That’s what we pay them for,’ would be to use my white perspective to explain their reality.”
Indeed. While it may be absolutely true for us as majority-white people to have good thoughts of the police force (I know of only a few white people who think otherwise), there is a nearly unbridgeable chasm in perception with our communities of color, especially those in the black community. Ms. Irving tells of the black mothers’ experience of telling their kids to keep their hands in sight whenever they are stopped by the police for fear that their children will be considered dangerous. I have never, ever had to tell my own kids this.
“Parents of color explain that often the trauma left by their own education in white institutions makes them bristle at the idea of coming into school, let alone talk to teachers or administrators.”
There’s a lot to unpack here, starting with the idea that, by being suspicious of white institutions, our communities of color, especially the black community, are cutting themselves off from all the advantages of those institutions that could be available to them if everything goes perfectly. Yes, it’s true that if you become aligned with majoritarian institutions you may get more benefit than if you’re hostile. But when people do things that you think are disadvantageous for them, and continue to do so when you tell them using facts and data and charts and graphs, and they still continue, then either they are incapable of rational thought, or you are asking the wrong questions and are settling for extraordinarily incorrect assumptions.
Listening to ‘outsider’ feedback [is] key to dismantling ‘insider’ behaviors, including traditions, that [create] cross-cultural conflict.
Another great line—we can’t dismantle our white-centered and -originated racism by waiting for them to come to us. We have to go to them and listen, and by “listen” I mean listen to understand, not listen to refute.
“The room was quiet for a while, until someone asked, ‘How do you get one of those jobs? I assumed you had to be elected.’”
This floored me, but it’s also been my experience in small ways. I had no idea for myself of how much goes on behind the scenes even in what appears to be mechanically operating business hierarchies—there is a lot of unseen work and synchronization and relationships that don’t appear in org charts and job descriptions. Imagine have that, but with even more significance and less visibility, in public organizations, and added to that the lack of insight and education on how to get into these systems to participate as a willing member?
“I felt entitled to jump in, roll up my sleeves, and make myself even more of a belonger.”
Again, this really cut me. I do this, and now I need to reflect upon my actions, along with my motivations.
Questions
Did you or your parents ever ask for specific teachers or classroom placement?
To my knowledge, I did not have this experience from my parents. For my youngest child’s second grade class, he went through three teachers in four months, which was quite unsettling to him and to us, but the district didn’t express interest. So yes, we ourselves felt as if we could ask for more stable leadership in the classroom.
Did you or your parents ever volunteer for a school role, such as room parent or committee chair?
To my knowledge, my parents never did this. I don’t recall either parent doing anything for any school level. For our children, my wife was a classroom aide for the primary years.
How might you navigate those situations differently now?
I don’t have an answer. Perhaps attempt to give more space to other parents?
List three specific ways for a white parent both to be involved and to be inclusive of parents of color
- What are some ways that you might want to be involved in the classroom of your children?
- If you want to be involved, what questions do you have?
- What kind of training or development would you want?
- What are some of your fears about being more involved?
For context on this series, see my kick-off post here:
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-25/
Dawn Claflin at https://dawnclaflin.wordpress.com/