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.

The Reality

      I woke up this morning and really needed a cup of coffee.  I don't actually have a coffee maker right now, so I walked a block to my local cafe to order a cup to go.  When I stepped outside, the first thing I saw was a group of school kids waiting for the bus with their parents.  Most of them not White.  A few were Latino.  About a third were Middle Eastern.

      I nearly burst into tears. I wanted to run up to those parents and hug them, and tell them I was so sorry.  I wanted to let them know that I'm afraid for their kids, too.  And that means I'm going to fight for their kids.

      There's a lot about this election that makes me sad.  I had trouble sleeping last night because it also makes me frightened--genuinely scared for my safety and those who I care about.  And please don't tell me I'm over-reacting or that "things could never get that bad," because that's precisely what people said when Trump started to run for president, and you have seen the headlines, right?  But mostly what I feel is anger.  And anger can be a very, very tricky emotion.

      The fact of the matter is that nothing unites like a common enemy, and that is how Trump got himself elected.  Immigrants, Muslims, the Liberal Media--how did Cercei Lannister phrase it?  "Anyone who isn't us is an enemy."  Game of Thrones may be fiction, but don't forget the author firmly based his stories in historical events.  And history has a nasty habit of repeating itself.

      As a White woman of economic and educational privilege, I've often wondered how I would have handled other periods of history.  Would I have had the guts to be one of the Freedom Riders?  Would I have had the courage to help smuggle runaway slaves through the Underground Railroad?  If I had been German in the 1930's, would I have stood up to the Nazis, or kept my head down like so many others did?  I can't go back in history.  But anyone who thinks the present day isn't just as critical as those dark chapters of our past is blind, sir, blind.

      So how to move forward.  How to make a difference.  How to meet what has happened effectively.  How to be able to look back at this time with no regrets, with no cause to lament: "If only I had done more."

      In the interest of not making posts too long, I will dedicate my next one to ideas, strategies and resources.  If you have any to add, please comment here, and let me know.  We shall overcome.

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.

Support in Unexpected Places

      I spent this last weekend in Seattle attending Geek Girl Con.  I went because I am essentially a nerdy person, with interests ranging from Star Trek to Star Wars, from fantasy novels to anime, and from video games to cosplay.  In other words, I went to find other women such as myself: I went to feel like a part of a community.

      Women are under-represented or exploited in much of geek culture.  We're often hyper-sexualized, as brilliantly highlighted in The Hawkeye Initiative.  In movies and novels, we're often slotted as support characters whose main purpose is to back-up the male protagonist.  Or worse, we're often redshirted or fridged as a means to further the plot.  The purpose of Geek Girl Con is to identify, discuss, and support healthy and positive use of female characters, and the women who work in geeky industries such as computer science or the comic industry.
      I am happy to report that I got what I wanted out of the experience.  Every minute of the convention, I was surrounded by other people who shared not only my interests, but were willing to be brave about it.  I'm even happier to say that the support was not limited to just women--not by a long shot.  This was a convention that takes pride in being a voice of social justice: ethnic minorities, LGBTQ minorities, religious minorities, and all body types and abilities were being supported, loud and clear.
      I learned about so many wonderful aspects of nerd culture I'd never known before.  I discovered the Gaymer community, and learned about how they're working to eliminate homophobia in video games at every level.  I learned about organizations that support differently-abled individuals in accessing video games, both for pleasure and as a means to support physical activity.  I learned about women taking control of their bodies and drawing healthy boundaries by enjoying cosplay without being victimized.

      But I was most deeply stirred when I learned about "Blerds." The term refers to self-identified Black Nerds who are building a community of their own, and calling out for strong and positive representation.  In the last panel I attended, I got to hear Blerd journalist Valerie Complex describe her experiences of being shunted to the side again and again, not taken seriously as a writer or a geek.  She talked about how businesses and organizations would claim to be diverse--then she would show up, and find that she was the only non-white person there.  She also talked about how these same groups would bemoan how "no minorities every show up, no black people every apply!"  Her answer to this was so simple and yet so profound: she said that these same organizations don't reach out.  She asked why they had not attended meetings, festivals, or job fairs in the Black community.  She said, "If you don't go to their party to show your interest and support, why would you assume they would want to come to your party?  Why would they feel safe doing so?"
      It immediately struck me how this was true for so many groups, not just employers or conventions.  It's true for political groups.  It's even true for social services.  Outreach is essential in every area, and that's true of individuals as well.  I hope to be more mindful of this concept myself, moving forward on my own journey to being a better Ally.

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.