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The Subtle Art of Racism

When I ask my college students about racism and discrimination, they often respond with blank stares. One student said, "Our generation doesn't care about that, that's something our grandparents talk about." I get the same response from both minorities and from my Caucasian students. A Caucasian student recently said what I've heard echoed by many older whites as well - "We aren't a racist society or we wouldn't have a black President." To me, that's the same kind of reasoning that thinks having a black friend means one is not racist.

As an educated, open-minded, progressive thinking Caucasian female, the idea that someone could think I am racist is positively horrifying. In fact, I've often made very bad decisions in an effort to prove how non-racist I am. There was the time that three men came to my house asking to be let inside and demonstrate a high-priced vacuum. One of the men made a very inappropriate comment to me before leaving. I did not let them in my house, and I worried about the event afterward, considering that there was no business card and nothing on the side of their van to identify them or the company they claimed to represent. When I discussed this incident with friends, they were appalled that I did not report the incident to police. I explained that one of the three happened to be African-American, and that I did not want it to be portrayed in the media that "some thug black man is preying on your white women." Further, I was upset with myself for feeling fearful. Was I racist? It's perfectly reasonable that I would fear three men coming into my house, regardless of race. There was another time that I felt uncomfortable getting on an elevator one evening. It was occupied by two African-American males. I declined to board the elevator, and worried in the days afterward that I had offended those two men. I felt guilty for being afraid. The negative thoughts were only in my head. Was I guilty of "subtle racism?"

I've taught about racism, stereotyping and prejudice for years. I've come to the realization that all of us, even the most well-intentioned, politically correct, culturally sensitive, possess a certain degree of prejudiced attitudes. Some attitudes are certainly more harmful than others. Once we act on those attitudes, people begin to get hurt or treated unfairly. I think we would all do well to be aware of these attitudes, realize how they may affect our actions and try to change them.

"Subtle racism" is also reflected in the idea that if we support minority rights, listen to jazz and voted for Obama, then we can't possibly hold any racist attitudes. This is simply untrue.

I had a very interesting experience recently while visiting Atlanta, Georgia for a conference. I decided to visit the new civil rights museum while I was there. While standing in line, I was struck and overcome by what was ahead of me. I was suddenly grateful for all I have and sad that any lives have ever been lost in the name of equal rights, something I often take for granted due to my privileges, privileges that I was granted at birth simply by being Caucasian.

It was one of the most moving experiences of my entire life, but it started out on a somewhat sour note. There was a group of Caucasian individuals behind me that I initially just found mildly annoying. One of the men made several misogynistic comments and they all complained that they had to wait in line, joking that they should be able to buy a "fast-track" pass to the front of the line, lest they be late for their dinner reservations. Once inside, they began a discussion about Martin Luther King. I thought maybe they would redeem themselves. Sadly, no. They began speaking about how his children and their infighting about his possessions had tarnished King's image. Show me a family that doesn't fight over the inheritance. That has nothing to do with being African-American. No matter their perspective, it just seemed like the wrong thing to say during such a solemn event. They then brought up Jesse Jackson and his son's legal troubles and possible mental illness. In reference to Jesse Jackson, one of the women in the group said, "There's another winner." I shared a disgusted glance with an elderly African-American lady in front of me. I whispered to her, "Yes, she just went there." The worst part was the realization that this group of people probably believe they can't possibly be racist. After all, they are visiting the civil rights museum. How noble of them. I began to wonder if they only came to the museum because the lines at the aquarium were too long.

I did manage to distance myself from this group so I could enjoy my experience without their commentary. It occurred to me that their behavior was the perfect example of "subtle racism." I reflected for many hours after my time at the museum, thinking about where our attitudes come from, wondering if these attitudes may just be more damaging than the more obvious forms of racism. I couldn't help but begin to ponder Ferguson and the countless acts of what appears to be racial profiling and excessive force from law enforcement. Thankfully, there are no more government-condoned lynch mobs and fire bombs like in the days before the Civil Rights Movement. The racist attitudes are still there, however. Perhaps, there really are people out there that lack the self-awareness to be able to acknowledge some of these attitudes. Our attitudes drive our behavior, after all.

I enjoyed the rest of my time in Atlanta. I often lament living in the South, for it conjures up such negative connotations when it comes to race relations. We can't deny our violent past. That sad history aside, you won't find friendlier folks anywhere on Earth. Southern hospitality, Southern charm and Southern cooking. They can't be beat. When it was time to go back home to Kentucky, I stood waiting for my elevator. It opened and was filled with seven African-American individuals. I hesitated, but I can honestly say my only concern was how to fit all my shopping bags into the already-full elevator.

An elderly African-American male, who seemed to be the head of the group, said with a warm smile, "Come on in, we're all family."

Yes, sir. Yes we are.


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