Diversity and Inclusion

  • The Circle Project
    Innovative, experiential, challenging, and meaningful learning experiences around issues of diversity, inclusion, culture, status, and privilege.

My Other Sites

  • 37days
    My weekly newsletter on living intentionally.
  • Haiku Book Review
    My summaries of books I've read recently, written in Haiku. Why not?
  • Inclusive Asheville
    creating an inclusive, innovative, and engaged community that values and leverages our diversity in Western North Carolina
  • movable type
    My thoughts about diversity, stereotypes, prejudice, inclusion, culture....
  • my year of living veganously
    being a record of my transition to veganism in 2008
  • pattidigh
    daily short thoughts
  • RealWork
    My old website...still might be worth a look.
  • The Circle Project
    Helping organizations explore diversity and inclusion issues through theatre and story. This is the work I have waited my whole life to do.

37days

The Circle Project

Favorite diversity books

March 17, 2005

Be outraged by your own racism

“No human race is superior; no religious faith is inferior. All collective judgments are wrong. Only racists make them.” --Elie Wiesel

When my oldest daughter was in the first grade, she stopped me cold with just 16 words. “Mom,” she said as we stopped at a traffic light near Dupont Circle in Washington, DC, where we lived. "Why do you always lock the doors when a black man comes toward our car?"   

It’s not a story that I’m proud of – in fact, I’m utterly ashamed of it – but it’s an important story for me to acknowledge, own, and learn from. Her question was an honest one; as a six-year-old, she had no hidden agenda. She really wanted to know. My first reaction was to be defensive. “I don’t!,” I quickly announced, self-righteously. “Not every time, no it can’t be, I don’t, do I?,” I asked internally, my mind reeling with the implications. “No, you’re wrong, honey,” I wanted to say. “I don’t do that. That wouldn’t be right to do. I train people about racism. I have black friends. I used to watch the Cosby Show. I would never do that.”

But, while I could argue like the best defense attorney in the world, parsing the definition of “always,” in my heart of hearts, I knew she was right. I didn’t do it all the time, but I did it enough that she noticed. Actually, once was enough. And, truthfully, I knew that the black men outside my auto fortress knew it too; they heard the click. Always.

So, I didn’t lie to her and I didn’t try to minimize the small revolution that had taken place in that car that afternoon. Instead, we talked, as honestly as I would talk to an adult about these issues. I began that day, near Q Street, what has been a lifelong conversation for Emma about what racism is and how even people who mean well and know better can be racist and do things that perpetuate stereotypes. And how important it is to always be watchful, as she had been.

What I couldn’t bear was the thought that with that click, a whole universe of information had transferred to her, some silent and powerful and fast download that would change the way she sees the world, how she interacts with black men, what she passes along to others.

In a workshop that a colleague conducted once, a man was completing a written questionnaire about the kinds of messages that he heard growing up – from his parents, his school, his peers, the media. As he worked, he groaned every few minutes, as if in pain. When my colleague asked if she could help, he simply said, “it’s just that as I’m filling this out, I’m hearing my father’s voice tell me really awful and negative messages about groups of people.”

”Oh, my,” she responded. “That must be really painful to remember.”

“No,” he said, quietly and slowly. “That’s not the painful part. The painful part is that I can hear my own voice saying those same things to my kids.”

And so, like folktales and family recipes, we pass along this information – whether it is that black people are criminals, yuppies are shallow, Southerners are slow and stupid, Northerners are rude, lawyers are shifty, Gen X’ers are slackers, blondes are ditzy – whatever our particular brand of negative stereotyping (and whether we are using our voices or the mere click of a door lock), people around us are absorbing it like so many rambunctious and powerful memes, incorporating it silently (and probably unknowingly) into their bloodstream, having it impact not only their thinking, but also their actions, now and for years to come.

~*~ 37 Days: Do it Now Challenge ~*~

In a startling expose (well, startling to white viewers), ABC News reporter Diane Sawyer explored skin color prejudice in the U.S. with the help of two friends virtually identical in all respects but one—John is white, Glen is black. As they each separately try to buy a car, rent an apartment, respond to job listings, and shop, hidden cameras reveal that John is consistently welcomed and helped, while Glen is faced with higher prices, long waits, unfriendly salespeople, and closed doors. When interviewed for the film, Dr. Julianne Malveaux said that what is really needed is for white people to be as outraged by racism as black people are. And, if my door clicking shut is any indication, we need to be outraged by our own racism first.

~*~ A quote to remember ~*~

Last week’s 37days focused on the story of Kelli Davis, the high school senior whose picture was banned from her senior yearbook because she chose the tux rather than the drape for her photo. Here’s a quote from CNN from the man who upheld the principal’s decision to ban the photo: DAVID OWENS, CLAY COUNTY SUPERINTENDENT - “Her sexual preference is her sexual preference and that's OK, but the school shouldn't be the platform for her to make this statement.” There’s that word “preference” again. And I guess gay and lesbian people shouldn’t put photographs of their partners on their desks at work, either. I’ve sent Mr. Owens reading material on heterosexual privilege.