Confusion: Part One

      I remember the presidential election of 2000, when George W Bush ran against Al Gore.  And Ralph Nader.  The outcome is history.  It is a topic that I have rarely heard discussed without bitterness--even before this most recent election.  But even that controversial event didn't inspire as much protest, debate, & concern as those of November 2016.  More than anything else, however, the election of Donald Trump seems to have invoked confusion.  A lot of confusion.  Confusion should inspire curiosity, but it's much more likely to inspire anxiety, often to the point of fear.  And fear makes a dangerous motivator.

      So I'm trying to be methodical.  I'm making a list of the things that confuse me these days, & I'm making an effort to seek information.  Some questions (like WTF is up with the electoral college? and Just how easy would it be for Trump to fire nukes?) are fairly easy to answer with a little research.  Others delve deep into human nature, which has officially become more difficult to predict than the weather.  And to accomplish this, communication is necessary.
      It's also one of the most confusing things at the moment.
      Since Trump took office, I have heard a lot of people talking about how perplexed they become when trying to converse with individuals who voted for the other presidential candidate.  We want to persuade others to our way of thinking.  This goes both ways: I was bemused by this article in the Seattle Times last week outlining how local Trump supporters were confused by all the protests going on.  Being a liberal myself, I more often hear many like-minded individuals voicing confusion about friends or family members who didn't share their voting strategy.  These conversions often end with a stab at optimism: "Well, those Trump voters will realize their mistake soon enough, when nothing works out the way they want!"
      Unfortunately, I'm not so sure.  There was an excellent article in Slate magazine** that summarized the challenges when trying to communicate with "true believers."  Whatever their Cause - medical miracle, religious figurehead, new political philosophy* - when a person becomes convinced that Cause is Good, they can defend that position to a frightening degree.  As a psychotherapist I have often wished that I better understood this phenomenon.  (Minority groups have been familiar with this problem for years: just try being a person of color persuading a privileged white person that White Privilege is a thing.)  Now more than ever, I wish I had some great insight--because a lot of conversations need to happen over the next 3 years, 11 months, & some-odd days.
      If you have other experiences, resources, or ideas about constructive communication, I very much want to hear it.  I think this skill may prove the most critical resource in our joint futures.  In fact, I believe it may save lives.

*We this historically with political revolutions: think the early years of the Soviet Union, or North Korea.  If you want a better understanding, I cannot over-recommend the book "Nothing To Envy" by Barbara Demick.  It is one of the most interesting, most engrossing, & most eye-opening books I've ever read.

**Ok, if you follow only one link in this whole blog post, THIS IS THE ONE TO READ!!!

Excrement in North Carolina

      The news came in yesterday that North Carolina's state legislature voted not to repeal their law that requires transgendered individuals to use public bathrooms that correspond with their birth gender.  This, despite several long hours of deals between legislators.  Also after months of intense public protest, media scrutiny, and boycotting.
      I have to keep reminding myself that this senseless prejudice is born out of ignorance.  Gender is a critical part of personal identity.  For people who feel grounded in their gender, the idea of wanting to be otherwise can be really baffling, even terrifying.  And if they don't know anybody who is transgender their imaginations can take them to a lot of frightening places.  I understand this reaction, because I'm human: my instincts when faced with something totally outside my realm of experience is confusion and discomfort.  It has taken work to get to a place where I can catch myself*, and check and challenge my assumptions.

Humor is a great way to get people to stop and think, but sadly, there is very little that is funny about this issue.  Transgender women (women who were born as males) experience the highest rate of assault and murder.

      This piece in the news has me thinking a lot about Gender Privilege.  Of course there is the obvious discrepancy in how men and women are treated, but there's more to it than that.  When someone identifies as other than their birth gender - and that identity may not fit into a neat, binary model - sexism complicates matters even further.  Because gender is not just a biological phenomenon, it's also a social one.  A person who was born a male and transitions to female gives up a hell of a lot of privilege.  Honestly, they probably won't even receive the same privileges as a biologically-born female, unless they can pass really, really well.  It's not the physical, but the social aspects of gender that makes being a member of the trans community so dangerous.
       Recently at a training on working with transgendered youth, the presenter asked us all to imagine waking up tomorrow with our genders reversed.**  The trainer explained that those strong negative reactions are akin to what trans kids feel when they undergo puberty.  All of a sudden their body is becoming more sexualized, except that it's turning out to be something that feels foreign.  They live this feeling every day, and for many it only gets worse with time.
      The exercise was to help people understand and empathize.  In talking with my fellow trainees afterward, I was surprised by the spectrum of responses to imaging waking up with different genitals.  Some people felt shock.  Others felt curiosity.  Some said they felt revulsion, or panic.  A few people said they couldn't participate in the mental exercise, because the idea was literally inconceivable to them: they just couldn't force their imagination to go there.
      It reminded me of my college days, when I cut my hair very short (a "boy cut") and tended to wear baggy pants and flannels.  My reasons were simple: I wasn't vain, and this look was both comfortable and convenient.  But I was mistaken for a male from the back more than once.  On one memorable occasion, a well-meaning salesperson at a high-end retail establishment tried to remove me from the women's dressing room.  My reaction to this was anger.  I remember turning around in shock and gripping my chest to make a point.  She was completely mortified, apologized profusely.  Later, when I got over my anger, it made for a funny story.  But now I think back on that and wonder what precisely made me so mad.
      It's not like I didn't know that I wasn't presenting in stereotypical gender fashion.  Nor was that the first time someone had made that error when seeing me from behind.  I'd like to say that my feelings were born of a deep feminist belief that a woman isn't defined by her looks--especially not her clothing and hair.  But that's too cerebral; my reaction was reflexive.  In retrospect, I think it was because being faced with a limitation based on my perceived gender - even for a few seconds - was offensive to my feeling of identity.  And what's more, because it was someone trying to ban me from a space where  I felt instinctively that I belonged, I felt threatened.

      That was a small, small incident in my own life, but I am trying to use it to come to a better understanding of how I experience Gender Privilege.  For some people it is easier to be an ally to people with different skin, because of course we are born that way, it's nobody's choice, and therefore it's nobody's fault, so prejudice based on skin color is inherently unfair.  But being transgender seems to many to be a choice.  More than that, it seems an incomprehensible choice.  So they don't experience the same level of alliance.  We can all empathize with being treated unfairly for something that isn't our fault; it's harder to grasp making what seems to be such a radical - in some cases incomprehensible - choice.
      I think what these people are missing is understanding what kind of choice it is to become a transgendered person.  Most of us are not faced with a choice to be who we are, or not.  We were born with the privilege of having most of our life choices fall within a spectrum acceptable to our sense of self.  I am going to try harder to be aware of that privilege.  The truth is, I admire people who are true to themselves, no matter what.  I just want to develop a deeper understanding of what that means, for everyone.



*Most of the time, I'm not perfect.

**People are beginning to understand that gender is not binary, but for the purposes of this presentation it made the most sense to present the language in these terms.

Why "Us vs. Them?"

      I have a theory about why fantasy and science fiction are such popular genres.  I think it gives human beings a subtle sense of relief to have an obvious enemy, particularly one that is clearly different from themselves.  Faced with a slimy creature from outer-space that wants to enslave the planet, one can pull the trigger with relatively few qualms: those pesky questions about ethics, long-term consequences, and "should I have tried another tactic first?" all go out the window.  An already stressful scenario is rendered marginally less stressful but the removal of doubt.

This is not an image that evokes debate about the rights of all living creatures.

      We are not born with the values (or skills) to think before we act aggressively in our own self-interest.  Toddlers don't have ethical struggles when they shove somebody for grabbing their toy.  But of course, wise adults teach those children that such behavior is not Ok, that we need to think, and use your words.  We do this because we know that our civilization depends on, well, being civil to one another.  We have learned it is better to exercise restraint and creative problem-solving to decrease potential fallout. In the real world, decision making can be complicated and emotionally draining.  That's why some people decide not to bother with it.
      There are no filthy orcs or slimy Martians threatening us in the real world.  But some people do feel threatened by other human beings who dissimilar.  Obvious differences would be skin of a different color, dressing different, or speaking a different language--or maybe are outwardly of a different gender.  Other threatening differences could be religion or social customs.  Or even political party of choice; that's one where I've been guilty of crossing the line once or twice.

      Faced with differences that make us uncomfortable, there are three ways to react:
1) Ignore the whole thing.  Pretend we aren't actually uncomfortable.  Either stuff it, forget it, or re-frame it as being about something else that makes us upset, like bad driving or playing music too loud.  Low-key stuff that we can easily go our whole lives without thinking through.

2) Escalate the sense of difference until it becomes an Us/Them mindset.  In social justice terms, we call this "Othering."  We know who our in-group is, whether we think it through or just go with our gut, and the people who are not in that group are Others.  I believe everyone does this to some degree.  Ever glared at a driver who cut you off, and thought - even for a moment - "Well what a surprise, it's an [old lady/Asian man/Black teenager/etc]?"  That's Othering.
      When this grows to an extreme, it becomes paranoid, even hostile. "The Mexicans are coming and taking our jobs."  "The Gays are out to destroy marriage."  "The Jews are taking over the banks."  Suddenly, it becomes more comfortable to slip back into that toddler mentality of reacting without thinking.  If the threat becomes "obvious," then we can just pull that trigger and save the planet...right?
      Maybe that's why hate crimes have been escalating so much recently.

3) Learn more.  Knowledge and understanding are fatal to prejudice.  Going back to my toddler analogy, I was hanging out with a friend the other day who's delightful 2 year-old is scared of dogs.  But a nice man with a sweet little dog was willing to let her watch the puppy through the cafe window, like an animal in a zoo.  Toddler and canine leaned against the glass, getting to know one another.  Later, my friend's daughter went outside the cafe and got close to the dog, enthralled.

      This is what we want our children to do in such situations: we know that if they learn more, their anxiety will decrease.  They just have to get familiar with it.  We know this about children, yet we forget it about ourselves.  It makes us uncomfortable, so we honestly don't do it very often.
      As I continue my contemplation of White Privilege, I realized something about this phenomenon.  When a person of the majority - in my country, that would be Caucasians such as myself - decides to become more actively familiar with a minority culture this is generally viewed as "an interest," or even "an amusing hobby."  You rarely find a privileged White person being chastised for NOT checking out a minority culture.  I've gone my whole life barely dipping my toes into other cultures, and I could easily - comfortably - never do it again.
      But a person of a racial, ethnic, or cultural minority is expected to become familiar with the majority culture--more than that, they are expected to conform.  Whites want them to dress, talk, and act like us.  When they don't, we feel uncomfortable.   "If they're going to live here, they just need to adapt/learn the language/leave the old country behind."  We struggle with accepting the Other as being equal - truly, honestly, functionally equal - to ourselves.

      So...what do we do?
My answer: do something.  Do ONE thing.  Start with one.  Something small.  Then see if you're up to do something else.  Here's what I've decided to do:

1) I'm going to take Spanish classes.
      I imagine moving to a country where I didn't have a good grasp on the language, struggled with poverty, and received the kind of social messages this recent election has given to our Latino population.  I think it would crush me.  Some people say: "Well, if you're going to move to a foreign country, learn the language."  YOU try becoming competent in a language when you're working multiple jobs and raising a family.   I studied French for 8 years in a very good school district; it was practically fed to me with a silver spoon, and I never got much beyond conversational use of the language.  One of the best ways I can start supporting this minority population is by talking to them.

Just thinking about it makes me feel humbled.

2) I'm going to visit my local Mosque, and ask how I can show my support.
      This will be easy for me, since a gentleman from my local Mosque has already come and presented to my workplace about how to support immigrant Islamic youth.  I get shy in these kinds of situations, but if I can't overcome my shyness and the inconvenience to my comfortable weekly schedule, then I'm falling woefully short of my ideals.

       That's where I'm starting.  If you're looking for places to start, here are some suggestions from myself and others I've spoken to:

 - Stand up against bullying.  Whether it's in your face, or on Facebook, don't stand idly by.  Here is an excellent link sent to me by a reader about how to intervene if you see someone perpetrating a hate crime.  But these days, I think we encounter even more bullying online.  If you are a video gamer, you know what kind of things other people can say in the heat of the moment.  If you hear it, I challenge you to call them on it.  Don't put up with it.  Even if it means booting them, blocking them, or logging off yourself.  It's time to draw the line on every front.

http://www.pbs.org/newshour/rundown/safety-pins-solidarity-minorities/

 - Donate generously to a non-profit that serves minorities and other struggling populations.  There are plenty to pick from, and all depend at least partially on government funding.  There is a significant risk that these organizations will take a serious financial hit in the next four years--some may have to close their doors.  Southern Poverty Law Center.  The ACLU (this one may be more important than ever).  United Way.  Planned Parenthood.  Your local food bank, shelter, or mental health/addiction treatment center.

 - Travel.  If you are puzzled about why some parts of the country have such different political ideas than others, go check it out.  Don't just drive through, stay for a few days, and chat with the locals.  Or, if you can afford it, travel outside the country.  Go to Mexico.  Go to South America.  Go to China.  Go to India.  And take someone with you who could really benefit from the education of experience.

That's not a third-world country, that's someone's home in Arkansas.

 - Read.  Keep these issues on your mind, and be willing to explore topics that may not be at the top of your area of interest.  These are complicated issues, tied to history and ideas that may be strange or uncomfortable for a lot of people.  I'm starting a page on this blog tracking the books I'm reading that are relevant to issues of social equity, and you are welcome to recommend more.

 - Have conversations with others.  Talk to other people who share your values and figure out what you can do together.  Find ways to feel connected with others.  Find ways to empathize with others.  Find ways to listen--especially when you don't want to.  And if you're not sure how to do that without yelling, I will put out a post on communication skills in a few weeks.

 - Go to your next city council meeting.  This could say "get involved in politics," but that's a daunting concept for many.  So start with city council.  Check out the website or call city hall, figure out when the next meeting is, and go watch.  And talk to somebody else there.  Voila, you're involved in politics!  Keep it up, and see where it goes--maybe you'll even run for office.

A Doctor with Any Other Skin

      There was a lot of interesting bits in the news this week (including a pretty hilarious Saturday Night Live skit spoofing the most recent U.S. presidential debate).  But the piece of news that stuck with me the most was about a doctor's experience on a recent Delta airlines flight.  A fellow passenger was experiencing a health crisis, and the flight crew called for a medical professional.  Dr. Cross raised a hand to volunteer, but a flight attendant declined the offer of assistance, stating the crew wanted "a real physician."
      What made this flight attendant think Dr. Cross wasn't a real physician?  The only possible cues this flight attendant could have called on to make this erroneous assumption were Dr. Cross's appearance: clothing, age, gender, and skin color.
      Dr. Tamika Cross is a young Black woman.  You do the math.

This is what a doctor looks like, America.

      If you haven't read Dr. Cross' original Facebook post, I highly recommend that you do so.
      There are two layers of atrociousness to Dr. Cross' experience.  One is that the prejudices of that flight attendant could have cost the sick passenger his life.  What if there hadn't been another medical professional on board?  How long would the flight attendant have dithered about, making Dr. Cross drag out some kind of ID to satisfy her doubts?  The other is a deeper, sadder truth about our judgements and decisions under stress.
      I recently attended a fabulous training on racial diversity.  The presenter made a point early on of saying that she judges people all the time--in fact she judges them before she's even seen them.  She gave the example of making judgements about the people she's hired to train based on where they work, their line of work, where they sit in the room, what they're wearing, etc.  Then she pointed out: "Judging people like this is normal, everyone does it.  Don't be worried that I'm judging you--be worried if I'm not aware of it."
      Of course I do this, too.  And I'm sad to say that the first thing that comes to my mind when I hear the word "doctor" is a White man.  But it's happened to me enough that I am aware of it--that, and other prejudicial, knee-jerk assumptions that lurk in my unconscious mind.  When people wonder why it's so important to have diversity in things like the cast of TV shows and movies, or in the characters of novels, this is why.  We need to see people of all genders, colors, body types, ages, and sexual orientation in all kinds of life roles.
      It's even more important that we see that kind of diversity in real life, which brings us to Affirmative Action...but that's another post.  We think that these kinds of superficial, snap-judgement prejudices are relatively harmless.  So what if the first thing we think when someone is driving slow is "probably a little old lady," or if we see someone struggling with an ATM we as assume, "must not be from this country?"  Now we know what: the doctor on the plane when you're having organ failure might be a little old lady, or might have English as a second language.  Fortunately, the signs of heart attack are the same no matter where you are from in the world.
      If that flight attendant wasn't aware of how she judged people before this incident occurred, I sincerely hope she's aware of it now.  I'm going to keep pushing myself to over-come my own mental stereotypes.
      Delta airlines is apparently investigating the incident.  Dr. Cross is not responding to media requests for interviews, which is the professional thing to do.  She is completing her final year of residency at a hospital, and believe me when I say hospitals do not like their medical staff to be in the news for any reason besides awards.  Although many people - including myself - would like to see Dr. Cross speak about her experience on a respectable national news program, keeping silent is definitely the way to go.
     The only point on which I disagree with Dr. Cross is on the issue of compensation.  According to her Facebook post, she would accept Skymiles as part of the airlines apology.  Whereas I intend to never fly Delta again.



*The type who are disinclined to believe in the existence of rampant racism in our society, which is sometimes subtle and sometimes not so subtle.

When to be Serious

      I recently hung out with a family member who I don't get to see very often.  He's my age, and with similar economic and social upbringing.  We were talking about the manslaughter charges that have been brought against Tulsa PD Officer Shelby.  There's a lot to talk about with this case: the utter, horrible senselessness of the shooting; the way fear and unconscious* prejudice can prompt the worst decision making; the ponderous fact that the first cop to be promptly charged in this slough of shootings is a female officer.
      I thought it would be an interesting conversation, because my family member is an educated, intelligent man.  So you can imagine my frustration when he refused to engage in the conversation seriously.

Sometimes it's hard to tell where the first three leave off, and the fourth one begins.

      Before you write him off, I will say that this is partially his personality: he has a job that requires a lot of mental, emotional, and physical energy.  Part of how he keeps his sanity is to make a joke out of just about everything else.  But then again, he can afford to make light of these tragedies, because he's an educated White Male.  He's at the top of the Privilege Food Chain.
      I tried a variety of tactics to engage him.  I spoke intelligently, citing research highlighting racial bias in every level and aspect of the criminal justice system.  He cracked a joke.  I talked about my blog, and quoted Eldridge Cleaver's famous line: "If you are not part of the solution, you must be part of the problem." He cracked a joke.  I offered suggestions as to how he could start conversations in his own workplace, use his job as a way to make a difference.  He cracked a joke.

This was from an article in the Huffington Post last year.  I find this data to be particularly useful when discussing police shootings with people who are resistant to the idea that there is a racial aspect.  It gets them thinking about misuse of force, which seems like a good starting place.  Baby steps are better than not budging at all.

     Finally, I said simply: "This is something that's important to me.  If you're not willing to do anything, then I need to ask you to be supportive of me, because I'm taking this seriously."
     He didn't make a joke; he seemed taken aback.  I have a feeling I may need to say it again in the future, probably more than once.  But if that's what it takes to get even one person to pay a little more attention, I'll say it as often as necessary.  This blog is here as a reminder for me to keep talking.  It's the least I can do.


*Or conscious, obviously, but in some ways I think it is our biases we aren't aware of that are more dangerous.

My First Introduction to U.S. Race Relations

      When one is born into privilege, one could easily go one's entire life without ever realizing it.  As I'm fond saying: it's hard to convince a free swimming fish that it's wet.  That fish has just never known anything else, and unless it is literally pulled out of it's comfort zone, it might not be able to conceive of anything different.  For this reason, I believe that it's important to teach kids - especially White kids - about racism.
      I think a lot about my understanding of racism growing up.  I'm deeply grateful that I experienced no overt racism in my family.  My parents and extended family all believed in racial equality the way any ordinary person would believe in gravity.  I never heard a single racial stereotype growing up, and I never knew a single racial slur until I learned about them in a historical context.  I think the first time I heard the "n word" was reading Mark Twain in middle school.

This book includes the words "injun" and "nigger."  For that reason, it has been re-edited for some schools, and banned in others.  Still other people believe it is critical to leave the original story as it's written, because it offers a valuable insight into history.  What's your perspective?

      In some ways, I think this was a great way to grow up.  My mind wasn't poisoned with any senseless, stupid, cruel biases around skin color.  Thank the Powers That Be I didn't have that nonsense to root out of my head.  When I did learn about overt racism, it shocked me.  It shocked me to learn that the KKK still exists.  It shocked me the first time I heard someone say a racial slur in conversation.  I think those things should shock people: we should consider them so atrocious that they stun us to the core.*
      My parents sent me to good schools, that made an effort to teach kids about racism and U.S. history.  The classrooms had posters of famous authors and scientists of many different ethnicities.  During story time, the librarian read us children's tales from China, and India, and Africa.  We diligently revisited the bravery of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., Rosa Parks, and the other Civil Rights leaders every February.

This is a great example of the kind of equality-promoting propaganda used in my elementary schools.  It took me a long time to realize what was wrong with it.

      What we didn't have - and what I desperately think we were missing - was diversity in the staff and student body.  There were almost no kids of color in my elementary school, and not a single Black kid in any of my classes.  So my understanding of racism was purely academic.  I will give my teachers the benefit of the doubt; they were probably doing what was considered a 'best practice' at the time, and I think they wanted their students to have good values.  I did develop a strong moral value that prejudice based on skin color, language, or culture is wrong.  But I also learned some other lessons, that I've only identified in retrospect:

1) Racism happened long ago/somewhere else
2) Everything was better now
3) Relations between Black & White people were defined by mistrust

      As a psychologist, I now understand the power of learning through observation.  Where our personal experience leaves a void, book learning will fill in--but it will do so imperfectly.  This is what happened to me in early childhood.  Since I didn't know a single Black person, as a little kid I became afraid that Black people would assume I was racist, just because I was White.  I'm not sure I totally got over the misconception until adulthood.  And that anxiety prevented me from taking advantage of a lot of opportunities.
       Moreover, I feel that this mindset unintentionally set me up to be closed-minded about race-relations today.  Since I never SAW any racism growing up, and I had LEARNED about it only from a historical perspective, it was that much harder for me to accept the present day reality.
      I have no idea if anybody else had an experience like mine.  My brain may just work in weird ways.  But through the lens of hindsight, I do have some suggestions for elementary schools:

1) Deliberately integrate schools--there will be another separate post on this
2) Keep teaching about the Black leaders of the past, but also teach about Whites who helped; not to diminish the greatness of the Black participants, but to offer role models for dumb kids like me, who think that the struggle for equality and justice is something other people do
3) Incorporate the history into the present.  Always.  In all topics.  Especially when we have so many present-day challenges to overcome.

This is the kind of poster I wish had been in my schools: seeing and valuing difference, and realizing that helping others means strengthening all.

*Then we need to have the same reaction to systemic racism, like a court system that unevenly punishes African Americans versus Caucasians.  Unfortunately, a lot of privileged White people see those statistics as a glitch.  You can't assume somebody said "wetback" on accident.  You can assume that it's just coincidence Latino drivers get pulled over more often than Whites.

Preferential Treatment, Part Two

      This is the second part of a blog post about an experience I had at a restaurant last weekend.  In Part One I outlined the experience as honestly as I could, and the observations I made that led to my thoughts that the staff - almost all ethnic minorities, predominantly Black - were giving preferential service to Black patrons.  I did doubt myself at the time - I still do, as I'm writing this - and I hope that my knee-jerk conclusion is wrong.  I hope that my low blood sugar affected my powers of perception, and made me feel more paranoid and testy than normal.  I really don't like thinking that anybody is exhibiting racial prejudice for any reasons; as I've stated before, I tend to give people the benefit of the doubt.
      That being said, I'm far from ignorant.  I know too well the many different forms that prejudice can take.  And I'm very aware that usually that prejudice benefits me, as a White American woman.  But sometimes it doesn't.  When White people find themselves on the losing side of racial prejudice, they tend to react very negatively.  I'm trying to see this as an opportunity for learning, about myself and the society in which I live.
      So now that I'm thinking back over the events of the morning, my brain goes into Alternate Theory Mode.  (I'm starting to recognize this as my pattern.)  Maybe I missed something, and those tables with Black patrons were seated and ordered earlier than I thought.  Maybe those patrons were owners, or former employees, or family members--if we're being honest, we all give preferential treatment to those individuals.  Or maybe nobody was receiving special attention, and the kitchen just didn't have their act together.  After all, that White family seated to my right got their food more quickly than my husband and I.  It's totally possible that something wonky happened with our order.  There are plenty of perfectly logical reasons for the timing and order of food service that have nothing to do with race.

I realize it sounds entirely silly, but if there was some way to end racism through food, I would drop my career and make that my life's work.

      Then my brain goes into Explore the Meaning Mode.  To lay it out: what if my initial assumption was correct after all?  What does that mean to me?  What does it mean in a larger social context? What can I learn?
      So: if my initial assumption was correct, and my food order was intentionally delayed as the orders of Black patrons (and other minorities, for all I know) were put in the front of the list, what does that mean to me?  My first reaction is indignant anger.  I don't like unfairness in general.  And if I'm being honest, I like it even less when it negatively impacts me--particularly when it comes between me and my breakfast.*  There's a part of my privileged, restaurant experienced brain that says, "That is a piss poor business model, and a great way to alienate customers. Where is your pride in your work?"  I also feel hurt.  I think, "I'm a nice person!  I just wanted to eat breakfast!  Judging me on the color of my skin denies me who I am as an individual!"
      Well, duh.
      Which brings me to the question of a larger social context.  What if the staff there were prioritizing the orders of Black patrons?  What if they were using this restaurant as a space for people who get the short end of the stick in so many ways, so often, and making a small gesture to put them first for a change?
      There area couple problems: I'm pretty sure that giving preferential treatment to customers based on perceived race is illegal.  I say "pretty sure," because if there's one thing I've learned in the last few years, it's that laws vary more from state to state than one might expect.**  But more importantly, it goes against a moral code to which the majority of Americans believe that they adhere.  Given the legacy of the 1960's and the Civil Rights Movement, I think most of us have very strong reactions to blatant exhibitions of racial prejudice, particularly when it comes to service industries.

The Supreme Court abolished segregation in public businesses with the Civil Rights Act of 1964.  The way the law is written, is applies all ways, across all races.

      After segregation became illegal, many business establishments attempted to discourage minorities from coming by treating them badly.  This still happens today, way more often than most people know--or are willing to admit.  And I know exactly how I would react if I thought a restaurant were giving preferential treatment to White customers: I'd call my friends who are lawyers and try to get it shut down.  That being said, I noticed who was receiving food at the restaurant over the weekend because I was the one being kept waiting.  Would I notice if I was the one being moved to the front of the list?
      Historically, how many places gave preferential service to ethnic minorities over White people?  If my order was pushed back in favor of others, still I wasn't refused service, and no real damage was done.  Do I have an ethical leg to stand on in being bent out of shape?
      I don't like unfairness to be encouraged or tolerated in any sense.  It may sound idealistic, but I believe it is detrimental to an individual if they are taught that it's Ok to discriminate for any reason.  I recognize and honor the statistical foundations of Affirmative Action, but I also admit it took me awhile to really believe it was necessary, and to get on board.  I long for the day when the playing field really is level.  Cynically, I doubt that will happen in my lifetime.
      Here's the last thing my brain is processing on this before I get too flooded to continue: what if the restaurant gave preferential service to ethnic minorities, and everybody knew about it?  What if it was something they took pride in, because they wanted to make a political statement?
      Weirdly enough, if that were the case, I think I would make a point of eating there.  There are businesses I boycott because I dislike their politics--this would just be the opposite.  Then I would feel like I was a part of a socio-political statement, instead of a victim of prejudice.  Or even if the employees weren't doing it to make a statement, just to support fellow minorities, if they were honest and open about it, I would patronize their establishment to show my support as well.
      So what does all this say about me?  I guess I don't take kindly to being marginalized.  I don't want ANYBODY being marginalized, especially for utterly stupid reasons like skin color.  But, like most people, I'm more likely to get worked up when I'm the one impacted.



*Remember my three disclaimers from Part One: I am a breakfast-loving foodie who get cantankerous when my blood sugar gets too low.

**Especially in the area of civil rights.  Which is, frankly, downright alarming.

Preferential Service, Part One

      Last weekend, I had an interesting experience at a restaurant.  It was a diner with a cool theme in a city that my husband and I were visiting, and we were excited to check it out.  I did not expect that going out to brunch would bring race-related issues to mind--then again, that's part of being racially privileged, isn't it?  Anyway, I want to be honest about my experience, and objective in my introspection.  To accommodate the length I'm breaking this post into two part.  Part One is a summary of events from my perspective.  Part Two will be my reflections after the fact.  If you're up for it, I would appreciate your willingness to read both, and give me your feedback.
      But before I go any further, here are three things you should know about me, because they probably influenced my experience:

a) I am a foodie.  Not in the snobby way, in the "I really like food - buying it, making it, eating it, learning about it, and experiencing it in a wide variety of places" way.  I am equally happy eating in a hole-in-the-wall Chinese restaurant with peeling wallpaper and mismatched plates as I am stepping into a high-end restaurant with Wagyu beef flown in from Japan on a daily basis.

b) Breakfast is my favorite meal.  Everything from mimosas with eggs Benedict, to black coffee and hashed browns; from asparagus soufflé and brioche, to bacon and oatmeal, I am a breakfast person.

c) Perhaps most importantly, I get "hangry;" when my blood sugar gets too low I turn into a grumpy five year old version of myself.  Experience has taught me to time my meals throughout the day and carry emergency snacks.

      So here's an honest account of my experience at the restaurant. We arrived, and it was crowded, but since the host said the wait was only 15 minutes I wasn't worried.  As we waited for our table, I noted that the restaurant staff - waiters, cooks, host, etc - was made up of predominantly young Black people, a couple Hispanic people, and one individual who appeared White.  My reaction to this, as a professional who tries to work from a social justice perspective, was, "This is awesome!  It would appear that the owners make a point of hiring minorities, who typically experience negative prejudice in seeking jobs.  What a great, practical way to make social impact!"
      We were seated after 14 minutes, so I was a happy camper.  Our server - a young Hispanic woman - was prompt in bringing our water and taking our order.  When I asked for a recommendation on sausage vs. bacon, she answered promptly and with a smile, and I was happy to take her suggestion.**  I sat back, soaked in what the restaurant had done with their theme, and chatted away with my husband.
      At the table to my right was a family of five, all White, who had been seated about 10 minutes before us.  At the table to my left was a Black couple about my age. They were seated right before us, received their water right before us, and put in their order right before we did.  So when I saw the couple's food arrive after about twenty minutes, I expected our food to arrive next.
      Then I noticed the table to my right had not yet received their food.  I was a little surprised, but they did have a couple small kids.  I thought, "Maybe they ordered after we did, or put in a special order for the kids.  That would delay things."  That family got their food about 10 minutes later.  My husband and I were still waiting.
      When the Black couple to my left got their check, and my husband and I had not yet received our food, I started to wonder if our order had gone missing.  Unfortunately, the restaurant was crowded, loud, and busy, so there was no easy way to flag down a server to ask.  Then, before I could exert myself, my husband pointed out that our parking meter was probably about to expire.
      Note: we had paid for 90 minutes on our meter.

This sight does not promote good digestion.

      I was closer to the door, and I wanted to get up and use the washroom anyway, so I volunteered to go check the car.  It was when I got up and started walking that I noticed the effects of my low blood sugar.  My energy was low, my brain felt jammed, and my stomach was growling painfully.  We did, in fact, have only 19 minutes left on the meter, so even if the food had arrived by the time I returned, it was unlikely that we would have made it back to the car in time to avoid a ticket.  So I added another 40 minutes.
      I got back to the restaurant, and our food had not yet arrived.  I went to the restroom to wash my hands, which required squeezing past a table where two Black men were seated, just putting in their order.  I thought, "Good luck, guys, I hope you aren't prone to hunger-crankiness like I am."  When I returned to my table, the food had still not arrived.  At this juncture I began to debate whether or not to eat my protein bar, even though I had ordered a full hot breakfast. I decided to hold out another 5 minutes.  Just as I was about to get my snack, the server brought out our food.
      The food was tasty enough, but nothing fancy, and nothing spectacular.  And home-fried potatoes, three eggs over medium, three strips of bacon, and a muffin do not take an hour to prepare.  I thought, "Well, the place is busy, and maybe the kitchen isn't really big."
      That was when I saw the table with the two Black men receive their food--the ones I'd squeezed past on my way to the restroom.  It had only been15 minutes since they had placed their order.
      So yes, my brain went there.  I thought, "Oh my God, I think the staff is prioritizing the food orders of the Black patrons."
      I didn't say or do anything.  My husband and I were so hungry by that point that we wolfed down our food, paid, and left in under 20 minutes.  And I immediately decided I needed to process the experience in writing--so on to Part Two.



*Yes, I just described two of my favorite places.  No, I cannot afford to eat at the latter more than once every five years, unless someone else is buying.

**She said "bacon," and the bacon was the best part of my meal.