I know I may have ticked some of you off last week. I get that. Last week’s blog post was about how we are called to prayerfully explore our own uncomfortable pits (like underlying racial prejudices) before we start pointing fingers outwardly. Other people are the problem, NOT ME! And I hear you in this time of renewed social injustice awareness. We’ve either said it out loud, thought it in our heads or read some version of it in our social media feeds. See if it sounds familiar to you. It goes something like this: “I most certainly am NOT a racist!” And then we typically rattle off a list of anecdotal evidence in our own defense supporting why our statement is irrefutably true.
Related post: Are we standing on solid ground?
All the reasons I most certainly am NOT a racist.
Here is my own list of personal anecdotal proof. Bear with me.
First of all, I know I cannot possibly be a racist because I attended an elite racially diverse college-prep high school where I had friends with brown and black skin. Secondly, I still have friends of varying degrees of closeness with brown and black skin. Third, I tend to be friendly (to a fault some say) to everyone regardless of skin color. Number four, our family was open to adopting a child who didn’t look like us. And I was wise enough to preemptively research things like caring for African American hair, etc. As it turned out, God sent a little boy who looks EXACTLY like us, but that was His call, not ours. And fifth, I am totally fine with my children dating or marrying persons of color as long as they choose kind people who will bring out the best in them.
See? I most certainly am NOT a racist!
But wait….there is more! I remember one particular family vacation to South Carolina when Colin and Hannah were in elementary and middle school respectively. We took a day trip to Charleston, and I forced all of us to tour Boone Hall – a historical cotton plantation. MY kids watched every video and read every plaque in those preserved slave cabins. I made sure of it.
And when we later toured Fort Sumter where the first shots of the Civil War occurred, I made sure my kids heard all about their great-great-great-great-grandfather who fought for the North’s Union Army during the Civil War. My side of the family was on the right side of history, of course.
And how about this for the kicker… the last time Allan and I were downtown for dinner, I got chatty with a homeless guy who didn’t look at all like me, and our easy chit-chat ended with a literal hug. I rest my case. I most certainly am NOT a racist.
Racism is part of OTHER people, not me.
If we are educated at all, we certainly couldn’t deny America’s troubled history between black and white. But we are smarter now, right? More aware. More WOKE. Does racism still exist in America in 2020 some ask? Well, DUH. But it doesn’t look like US! It looks like this guy.
Or it looks like a confederate flag and a shotgun hanging in the back of an oversized pick-up truck in the hollers of the deep South. Or some wrinkly, gray-haired outspoken old lady in the long-term care facility where I work with archaic views of the “colored help” on the nursing staff. When her generation dies off, no doubt so will the outward racism common within her cohort. I am none of those things, so I can confidently say it again. I most certainly am NOT a racist. Right?!?
Are semantics hurting us?
I think the word “racist” conjures up such strong emotions that we automatically recoil at the term. We don’t want that label anywhere near ourselves, do we? We see fire explode between sociopolitical groups when one disagrees with the other and throws out “racist” to shut down any meaningful dialogue. For example, “You voted for WHOM?!?!? RACIST!” Or this one – “You collectively support police officers?!?! RACIST!” I know lots of well-intentioned and good-hearted white folks who are hesitant to share their own experiences in person or online for fear of saying or doing the wrong things. Maybe you know them, too. Maybe you ARE them. Does that hesitancy stem from fear of further offending or from fear of the counter-attacks labeling us something ugly like “RACIST”.
But is our choice of verbiage hurting us? Is an inflammatory term like “racist” keeping us from looking inward and exploring our own implicit biases? Is it preventing us from starting open constructive dialogue with people who look and perhaps think differently than us? You know, the argument, right? I most certainly am NOT a racist, therefore the problem lies OUT THERE with other people!
But what if it isn’t an all or none issue? In other words, what if the issue isn’t so clearly black and white? (pun absolutely intended) Perhaps there are critical shades of gray in the middle that we overlook because we have ground down racism to either a hard “yes”or a hard “no”? Please let me give you two examples from my own life to illustrate my point.
Example #1.
Several years ago I volunteered on the prayer team for a community prayer experience sponsored by my church. My assignment was to individually pray with any participants seeking 1:1 prayer support at the end of the experience. No problem. I’d prayed out loud with strangers before, and I felt up to the challenge.
But then I saw him. A black teenage boy in drooping jeans with his hands stuffed in his pockets and a flatbill cap pulled low over his brow. This kid was waiting for 1:1 prayer support, and the only adult available to him at that moment was me. Uh, oh. No way this urban kid with dark skin needed or wanted anything from white, suburban middle-aged me. Nope. He’d just have to wait for the next adult. So, I avoided eye contact with him and pleaded inwardly for another adult – preferably one of color – to finish up and help this kid.
Well, guess what? Every other volunteer in the prayer room legitimately remained occupied. Crap. It was me, or nobody. And I couldn’t let this bold kid leave empty handed, so I finally approached him. I told him I was available to listen and pray with him, or he was welcome to wait for someone else if he would be more comfortable. If I recall correctly, I even started turning back around before he answered me because I assumed a young, black male avoided conversation with a forty-something white woman.
Boy, was I wrong! Not only did this kid follow me to a seat, but he very openly shared his personal spiritual struggle with me. He talked and I listened for twenty minutes. We prayed. By the end he was ugly crying, I was ugly crying, and I hugged him close like he was my own son. Mission beautifully accomplished.
My unspoken underlying prejudice was that an urban young black male was not open to talking with a much older suburban white woman. I mean, I don’t hesitate to strike up conversation with my white teenage son’s equally white teenage friends. That certainly begs a question, doesn’t it? Do I subconsciously avoid interaction with black teenagers more so than white teenagers because I assume interaction with me is worthless for them?
So, am I a racist?
Example #2.
I grew up in a predominantly (at that time) white area on the far east side of Cincinnati. My neighborhood elementary school in the 1970s had very little (if any) racial diversity. I remember having one black teacher in seven years – Mrs. Myers. She taught math to 4th, 5th and 6th grades. I loved her because she let me work ahead of the grade-level curriculum and sometimes let me help her decorate her bulletin boards in the hallway.
Anyway, I remember as a young girl being aware that my city was divided up into predominantly white and black neighborhoods. My young understanding in the 1970s was that the white neighborhoods were more affluent, cleaner (regarding litter, not germs) and safer. I learned from the adults around me that I wanted to avoid the black neighborhoods for safety reasons. And if you have to drive through one getting from here to there, keep the car windows up and the doors locked en route. Especially as a solo white woman. I still lock my car doors when I drive in certain places. Its an automatic habit. Huh.
I assumed during that time that the city was a patchwork quilt of white and black with strong dividing lines because that’s how people with brown and black skin felt most comfortable. In other words, I thought that white people mostly lived with white people, and black people preferred to have their own cultural communities. I was a naive eight-year-old kid, remember?
Then I learned about certain realities as an adult in my forties. Yes, an almost middle aged adult. I first heard specific terms in a six-week, culturally diverse program through my church about racial reconciliation called “Undivided”. There I heard about things like redlining and the Green Book. Depending on your personal experiences, you may already know about those things. If not, I included some family-friendly resources below. Needless to say, “Undivided” really challenged some naive assumptions from my childhood, and I’m glad for it.
So, am I a racist?
Unpacking the question.
So let’s really look at the question related to my two examples above. Am I a racist?
Some would say a hard “YES”. I had preconceived ideas about someone based on the color of their skin. Ergo, yes. Yes, Melissa, you most certainly ARE a racist.
Others would equally say a hard “NO”. You were a product of your time. That’s how the world was back then. You’re a good person with an overall history of being kind to others. You have friends with brown skin. You love Jesus, and He loves everybody. Ergo, no. No, Melissa, you most certainly are NOT a racist.
I feel like the answers to most of the world’s debates do not fall so cleanly at one extreme or another. Perhaps the vast majority of us – brown, black, white, and every other color – fall somewhere in the gray areas in between.
Oh, I can hear some of the push back now. That’s a cop out, Melissa. You HAVE to pick a side. If you don’t stand for something, you’ll fall for everything. You either support Black Lives Matter or you support Blue Lives Matter. Make your choice! You either storm city hall with your angry fist in the air or you blindly lounge at home on your cozy white privilege. Make your choice! Pick your side!
So much active shouting and so little actual active listening. Here’s MY answer to my own question, “Am I a racist?” My answer lies somewhere in the middle gray area that never seems to make the headlines. If I prayerfully explore my own uncomfortable pit, I am guilty of many things. First, there are times in my life as a capable adult when I haven’t spoken up when I had the opportunity. Secondly, until recently I have been content to remain less educated about certain things because I thought (1) they didn’t directly impact me or my family, or (2) they were in the past.
Additionally, there are multiple instances when I subconsciously hold stereotypes in my mind about groups of people based on a characteristics such as age, gender, ethnicity, socioeconomic class, etc. It’s called “implicit bias”. And I think it best answers my question. I found someone else’s words that sum up my answer perfectly.
“The social science research demonstrates that one does not have to be a racist with a capital R, or one who intentionally discriminates…on the basis of race, to harbor implicit racial biases.” (Professor Cynthia Lee, Kirwin Institute for the Study of Race and Ethnicity, The Ohio State University. 2014. p 16)
YES! That’s what I own. That is where we must look inwardly and prayerfully consider what biases we harbor that are out of alignment with who God calls us to be.
Implicit bias.
Wait… You mean that we can have every intention of acting with fairness and objectivity, yet still subconsciously react out of hidden biases? YES. That’s what I am saying.
In preparing to write this week’s blog post, I read the above quoted 2014 research paper written by Cheryl Staats from the Kirwan Institute for the Study of Race and Ethnicity at The Ohio State University. That paper reviews implicit bias in easy to read terms. I found it fascinating. Here is just a little taste to whet your appetite.
“…implicit bias [can be likened] to an ‘equal opportunity virus’ that everyone possesses, regardless of his/her own group membership… The implicit associations we harbor in our sub-conscious cause us to have feelings and attitudes about other people based on characteristics such as race, ethnicity, age, and appearance … exposure to commonly held attitudes about social groups permeate our minds even without our active consent through ‘hearsay, media exposure, and by passive observation of who occupies valued roles and devalued roles in the community’.” (p.16)
“Implicit biases have real-world effects on behavior… Implicit biases are malleable; therefore, the implicit associations that we have formed can be gradually unlearned and replaced with new mental associations.” (p.16)
Hungry for more? Here is a link to a pdf of the full paper. State of the Science: Implicit Bias Review 2014. Chapter one is a gold mine if you want to educate yourselves further.
Other resources for your family.
If you are exploring your own implicit biases and having conversations within your own family (and I hope you are), then here are some resources I like.
- This well done and kid-friendly Instagram video by act.tv is an awesome animated explanation of systemic racism. It also specifically covers the term redlining. INSTAGRAM VIDEO LINK: Jamal and Kevin
- This blog article was written by Ramesh Nagarajah, a man with black skin, regarding his personal experiences growing up with an all white friend group. It is fresh and outstanding. Reflections From A Token Black Friend
- I mentioned the Green Book earlier in my post. Never heard of it? The actual full title was “The Negro Motorist Green Book”. The History Channel has some great information that was last updated in March 2019 at this LINK: The Green Book: The Black Travelers’ Guide To Jim Crow America.
- Or you could watch the 2018 movie Green Book based on actual events as a conversation starter about systemic racism and implicit bias with your older kids (or your parents, or your friends, etc). Although, the last I checked it was only available on Showtime or to rent/purchase on Amazon Prime. If anyone out there has a copy on DVD or BluRay, I’d LOVE to borrow it for my family!
- Additionally, a paperback copy of an actual Green Book from the 1940s or 1950s is available on Amazon HERE. The publication was printed during the 1960s was well, and the above movie is set in 1962.
- And finally, if you are interested in exploring the multi-cultural six-week program I mentioned earlier in this post, you can get started with “Undivided” through the below video or at www.crossroads.net/undivided. You can also join the public Undivided Facebook group at this link HERE: Undivided FB Group.
The trip to South Africa I was scheduled to take in July 2020 (since cancelled due to COVID-19) originated from this program.
What is next at the thankful bee?
Stay tuned next week for reflections from my Saturday morning walks and talks with one of my friends who doesn’t look like me. For the first time in our friendship spanning over five years, we have very recently started walking together and sharing personal stories about growing up in the same country with very different skin colors. It has been good for both of us. I am excited to share those conversations with you!
In the meantime, let’s keep our hearts and our minds open to each other.
Let’s inwardly examine our own implicit biases as readily as we rush into outward name calling and finger pointing at others on social media.
And let’s keep praying for our entire Country (she’s battle weary) – the black parts, the brown parts and the white parts for starters. To say the least, God is grieved by His children turning on each other.
Lastly, let’s extend equal grace to the individual protesters holding homemade BLM banners, as well as to the individual police officers increasingly risking their lives every day. I think you can love and intelligently support both without being a racist or a hypocrite or whatever other label we hastily slap on people these days.
Stay encouraged, friends. We will see you next week.
Header image by Gustavo Torres from Pixabay. Additional graphic by OpenClipart-Vectors from Pixabay.
