Necesitamos una Buena Comunicación*

      It's not my habit to post so soon in succession, but one of the headlines I read this morning over breakfast said that the White House website is no longer available in Spanish.  It was a small article, but this is a very, very big deal.
      It's a big deal for two clear reasons.  Firstly, the White House is one of the two most critical nerve centers of American government.  Some data suggests that as few as one out of five Americans know the name of their state senators, but I think it's safe to say that the majority of our citizens know who is president--especially at this point in history.  Individuals looking for information about the leader of the free world might naturally start with the web site belonging to the most recognizable real estate in the country.  And now that information is not accessible to a significant percentage of the population.
      Then there's the symbolism.  Sure, the White House website is under construction while new information replaces the old during a change in administration, but you don't see the entire English site going down, or even significant portions.  Information about Melania Trump's modeling career & jewelry business was made available pretty damn fast.  So there's no doubt that this disappearance is deliberate.  It's no different than the popular kid handing out birthday invitations to everyone in their class except for those two or three they don't like: it's hard to miss that kind of snub.  And considering the exclusionary, uninformed, racist rhetoric Trump has spouted regarding Latinos, it would seem this is a malicious snub.  An entire group of people - who already struggle because of language issues - are even more shut out.

      I've already said that one the ways I hope to improve myself and be more of an activist is by learning Spanish.  When an entire language - and the people who speak it - are so forcefully marginalized, that becomes even more important.  At the Womxn's March, there were a lot of signs that said: BUILD BRIDGES, NOT WALLS!  I can't think of a more powerful bridge than that of communication.  I don't particularly like learning languages; it's a struggle for me, & it takes time I'd rather spend doing other things.  And that may be the biggest indicator of my White Privilege I can think of.


So what can we do?

      Before publishing this post I went to the White House website & left a message for the president, asking him specifically to restore the Spanish Translation of the website.  There were a lot of people in those marches on Saturday.  What if we got even half of them to flood the website with that particular request?
Here's the link: https://www.whitehouse.gov/contact


*This post's title is brought to you by Google Translate.

We Will Not Go Away; Welcome to Your First Day!

      It's been awhile since I posted, but I'm happy to say my tardiness has been for all the right reasons.  Namely: activism in other ways.  Today will be the first "working" day of Trump's presidency.  That seems like a good opportunity for me to check in about my own goals and progress.

In the last 30 Days I have:

 - Attended a Community Potluck at one of my local mosques, & heard a presentation from the police about Bias Crimes & how they are reported, tracked, & acted upon.*

 - Called out one of my close relatives on some racially biased comments, & engaged her in a conversation about White Privilege.  (I'm not sure it had much of an impact on her, but she was a gracious & thoughtful listener, & I think at least one person listening to us may have been impacted.)

 - Started organizing a Self-Taught Spanish Group at my workplace to encourage learning a second language.

 - Participated in the Seattle Womxn's March on 01/21/2017, as one of over 100,000 protestors.  It was the largest protest event in Seattle's history, and part of a world-wide demonstration of unity that has never been seen before!

 - Subscribed to my local newspaper, the Seattle Times, as a way to support "real news."  This may seem like a small thing, but for $220 it may be the most important action I've taken thus far.  If you do not have a subscription to a REAL newspaper, I cannot encourage you enough to take this simple step.  The best failsafe between us and a fully corrupt government is freedom of a diverse press.  Every dictatorship involves intimidation & limitation of the press.  And if the very words "alternative facts" don't send a chill down your spine, you are not paying attention.

*While minor offenses - such as yelling out of a car window - cannot be prosecuted, the police in Seattle WANT such things reported, so they can track them.  A pattern of behavior can be an important part of prosecution at a later date, or in the obtaining of legal protection orders.   The officer repeatedly requested that people report such incidents.

White Shield

      Yesterday, Lady Justice winced under her blindfold.  A lot of people - myself definitely included - expected Officer Michael Slager to be convicted of murder.  The evidence was overwhelming, and the entire country has seen it by now: two separate videos show the White police officer chasing Walter Scott - an unarmed Black man - and shooting him in the back multiple times before deliberately planting false evidence.  Yet one of the jurors apparently "could not in good conscience" give guilty verdict, and Slager was granted a mistrial.  Walter Scott did not receive the justice he deserved.

R.I.P. Walter Scott

      I will not use this space to go into the blatant nature of this failure of the justice system.  I will only say that if we take Slager at his word that he shot Mr. Scott because he was "afraid for his life," then his level of fear was nothing short of delusional paranoia.  Anyone with that extreme disconnect from reality should be court mandated to receive intensive psychotherapy, and be prohibited from ever again owning any sort of weapon.*  Fortunately, the prosecution will likely move for a new trial, rather than letting the matter drop.  Additionally, Slager faces new federal charges within the next month or two.  This isn't over yet.
      This morning I was listening to "The Takeaway," a news analysis show on NPR.  There was a brief segment on the mistrial.  The radio host John Hockenberry, said: "When I watch that video, I feel as though my safety as a citizen is compromised by the idea that someone who one moment can say, 'I'm fearing for my life,' and the next moment is covering up evidence...."
      And it hit me: with all of these police shootings, I have been feeling anger--but never fear.
      This realization has forced me to ask myself some uncomfortable questions.  It never occurred to me that I could be the victim of police brutality.  Not once.  But why not?  In my youth, before I understood the reality of pervasive racial prejudice in law enforcement, I believed that a person had to go looking for trouble.  I was raised to believe that police went after Bad Guys, and since I wasn't breaking a law, I had nothing to fear.**
       So does that mean that I believed the Black population was more prone to crime?  I went to a progressive high school and pursued sociology and psychology from my first semester in college.  I'd heard plenty of statistics about the disproportionate drug use and arrest rate among ethnic minorities in this country.  I'd also been taught that ethnic minorities were far more likely to live in poverty, attend inadequately funded schools, and live in violent neighborhoods.  In my mind, it was these external factors that pushed people to break the law.  Of course I had heard that police targeted and even harassed Black men.  I'd heard the phrase "Driving While Black."  I remember seeing the Rodney King beatings on television.  But I didn't really believe it; I was indoctrinated with the idea that only criminals have anything to fear from police.

Police are my friends, right, McGruff?

      Experience, education, and empathy overcame that misconception.  Little by little, I began to see and comprehend the truth.  I am sure there are more depths of truth for me to experience, which is part of why I write this blog.  Today I was made newly aware of the depth of my internalized White Privilege, and it shocked me.  Even when I watched a video of a police officer chasing an unarmed man and shooting him to death, I never once experienced a moment of fear for myself. From the first, I instinctively - unconsciously - knew that I wasn't at risk.  It's not that I thought to myself, "Well, I'm not Black, therefore I don't have anything to worry about."  I didn't think at all.
      My gut knew the truth long before my brain pieced it together, with all the logic and language of social justice.
      When I contemplate the possibility of experiencing police violence myself, it's within the context of protesting.  Like the heroes at Standing Rock, I reason that if I put my body on the line - perhaps literally on the line - then I face the possibility of injury or even death.  Figuratively speaking, it becomes more probable when I paint a target on my body--whereas a person of color in the U.S. has skin interpreted as an unwanted target every single day.  Bizarrely, it means putting myself in a position to experience brutality at the hands of law enforcement is a privilege.
      On Saturday, I will be teaching a public class in the community on how and when to intervene in a hate crime.  I suspect this training will not go as many of the participants are hoping, but one thing I will be pointing out is that a White person - especially a White man - is simply less likely to be assaulted if they insert themselves between an aggressor and a victim.  That does not mean it's always the most effective thing to do.  But it is true...it is true.




*That's IF we take him at his word.  I'm pretty sure I don't.

**To be clear, I still believe the majority of police officers go into law enforcement for the best possible reasons.  I believe most are wonderful people who want to do the right thing.  I also believe that many officers are good people who are unaware of their racial prejudices--I base this on the fact many of my personal acquaintance are good people, and they are unaware of their racial prejudices, just I have been in the past.

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.

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.

The Beginning of Privilege

      This blog is intended to be an honest, unflinching, and thoughtful appraisal of my experiences with race.  The purpose is both personal and public.  Personally, I want to grow in both my understanding and action on this topic.  I do believe that if one is not a part of the solution, then one is part of the problem.  But it isn't always clear HOW to be a part of the solution.  I hope that this blog will be a piece of that process for me.

      Publicly, I hope to inspire others.  I hope other people can learn from both my progress and my mistakes.  Just as I hope this blog will help me be more mindful of the issues at hand, I hope reading it and/or discussing its contents will do the same for others.  I also intend to invite guest posts, to keep me accountable and vary the perspective.

      So, full disclosure: I am a White, full able bodied, middle-class, highly educated woman.  I was raised in an economically comfortable neighborhood near a privileged city in late 20th century America.  I was raised in a Christian faith, in a loving, non-violent household, by two heterosexual, college-educated, White parents.  These were the privileges given to me at birth.
      Then there are the privileges I chose for myself, although I did not think of them as such at the time.  I chose to graduate high school, and to go to college.  Then, I chose to continue my education with a Master's degree.  I chose to study and pursue a career in psychology, which - being the study of human thought and behavior - frankly gives me a mild advantage in almost everything I do.  And I chose to marry a White, heterosexual man with the same privileges as myself.
      There are privileges I have chosen to forego.  I choose to base my career in the non-profit sector, because I want to be available to low-income clients.  That means taking a hit to my potential income.  I choose to relinquish a number of technological advantages, namely: I don't own a television, I don't have cable, and I don't use a smartphone.  And, depending on how you look at it, I trade one privilege for another by choosing not to wear make-up, style my hair, or wear high-heeled shoes.  I choose to purchase the majority of my clothing second-hand.

You could say that my childhood was a lot like one of Norman Rockwell's idyllic paintings...

      But don't misunderstand me, these choices don't put me anywhere near the same playing field as someone who is unable to access these privileges--because for me it is a choice.  A lot of people are dealt a very different hand at birth than I was, and those choices are never before them.  And there are other, far more important choices I could have made, that would have made me uncomfortable and help me grow a lot faster.
      I could have chosen to live in a neighborhood where I would be an ethnic minority, but I didn't.  I could choose to become fluent in another language to better serve my clients, but so far I haven't.  I could choose to get rid of my car, and just take public transit, but I don't.  Again: I have the privilege of making those choices.

...then again, Norman Rockwell also used his paintings to depict the less idyllic aspects of the nation, as with his iconic 1964 illustration for Look magazine, entitled: The Problem We All Live With.

      When I write in this blog, I will be coming from a position of privilege: racial privilege, economic privilege, sexual privilege, and more.  I know that will make me naive in some areas, and downright wrong in others.  But I hope that in documenting my evolving perception, I can help other people challenge their perceptions, also.  I hope this can be a tool for raising awareness.  And I really, really hope that people who read this will feel free to comment, question, and challenge me.

Creating Space to Grow

      I'm not going to lie: starting this blog is making me feel more nervous than I expected.  Part of that may be because I'm not really super tech savvy, so I'm kind of waiting to do something wrong.  Part of it may be embarrassment because I always wonder at my hubris whenever I think somebody else should care about stuff I have to say.  But honestly, a big part of it is the inspiration behind this blog: to write about race, prejudice, politics, and growth.
      These are very hot topics.  The odds of me not offending somebody are pretty low (more likely I'll offend several somebodies).  I'm worried I'll get in trouble, somehow.  I'm worried I'll get major internet Trolls on my ass.  I'm worried I may lose friends, or create friction in my family.  I'm worried I'll look like a coward (I am starting off anonymously, after all--that may change, but for now I'm keeping my real name under wraps).  I'm worried this will make it harder for me to realize some of my dearest ambitions.  I'm even worried this may somehow impact my job, and my career means more to me than I can say.
      And here are the kickers: a) I don't think that this blog is going to be that big, and b) I'm White.

      Imagine if I were writing this and I wasn't White.
      That's the thought that keeps me going.  That, and something a person I respect very deeply said to me during a conversation about racism.  He said that he had given up his grand vision of what he thought he should be doing to disassemble racism, because he realized it was unlikely to happen.  Rather, he had recognized and embraced his own talents, and decided to use them as effectively as he could.  That resonated with me.  Yes, I think that if I really got off my ass and worked on it I could put together big marches through my state capitol.  But I also think that my real talent lies with words, in loquacity if not in eloquence.  I also think I have a talent for understanding people.  So here's my attempt to use my talents to make a difference.
      I did not intend to start this blog like this.  I'd actually written out a thoughtful, meaningful post to get the ball rolling.  But I plan to make myself uncomfortable in this blog, because real growth requires pushing oneself to go outside one's comfort zone.  So I'm starting off very raw, and very real.  This is me, being nervous, and feeling kind of stupid, and pushing ahead anyway.  I'll do the well-thought-out post next time.
      Hopefully you'll still be reading.