Except, you totally are. I am too. If you're American, then I can speak to our form of institutionalized racism and the cultural assumptions that surround them. If you're not, then trust me when I say you're a racist as well. Your culture has it's own biases and bigotries, it's own unspoken assumptions about the non ruling class or color of your land. This is not a judgement on you, this is a statement of fact. When you live in a racist society, you will have racist views. It's like gum on your shoe - you only see it if you end up stuck to something.
Which means we're talking about Paula Deen. Look, I don't care about her. If the allegations in the lawsuit against her are true (and she's given us every reason to believe they are) then she should be forced to make reparations. My issue today is with her sons. Paula's boys are out swinging, understandably, to defend their mother from the consequence of her words. She didn't know any better. She's ashamed. She's the product of different times. She's not racist. To listen to my fellow white folk, no one is racist. There is no racism. Things just happen and they aren't fair but it's for reasons and these reasons have nothing to do with racism. They feel these ways about most black people because most (or some, or this one) are just like that. They aren't racist because they know these other black people (or employ them) and they are good to them and respect them and maybe they even voted for Obama because of how not racist they are. Let's listen to Paula Deen in her own words.
“Remembering now, it just shocks me,” she said of Jim Crow. “I’m plain horrified that things could have been that way and I was so blind I didn’t get that it was wrong.” - Paula Deen
Guess what boys? Those shoes are on your feet today. This doesn't make you special, it makes you American. Just yesterday my teenager turned to me and said "Wow, grandpa is really racist!" I said yes, yes he is. She is the only grandchild to notice because however the others define racism it includes the concept of a bad person doing bad things. It does not include upholding the status quo. It does not include making assumptions about people based on their class and color. The standard isn't even not to kill people of color because every day in every way people who are golly gee not racist murder innocents and walk away. Shoot a kid in their classroom, the president comes to town. Shoot a kid in a park, on their living room couch, on a subway platform, walking home with Skittles - well it takes a lot to get anyone to notice. It takes marching in the street because those kids aren't white so what do you expect? Having these unspoken double standards is racism, it's our racism and it's invisible to us white folk. (The tragedy of Sandy Hook is realizing that the safety of rich white kids is ceasing to matter. We are beginning to feel the pain of what our fellow citizens have always known.)
Hey, you know that story your mom tells? The one where she beat a black girl for the sheer pleasure of it and the girl's mom ended up in jail? When your mom tells that story, gosh she feels bad. How did she not see? It haunts her, what she did. It haunts her so much that she tracked that family down and... oh wait. I don't think she has. Or if she did, she leaves it out of the story, because the point of the story is that Paula Deen felt bad about her actions because she came to see that they were wrong and she is not a racist so it hurt her soul.
That she tells the story that way, that her pain is at the center of her shame, is racist. It places her above the harm she did. It prioritizes her experience over the experience of her victim. And it's hardly the only example of her unexamined racism. Look, I'm sure she was a good mom. She is probably, by most yardsticks, a good person. She may have given you the whole It's Not Easy Being Green and Free to Be You and Me education of your era. That has jack all to do with whether or not she's racist.
And I remember telling them about a restaurant that my husband and I had recently visited. And I'm wanting to think it was in Tennessee or North Carolina or somewhere, and it was so impressive. The whole entire wait staff was middle-aged black men, and they had on beautiful white jackets with a black bow tie. I mean, it was really impressive. And I remember saying I would love to have servers like that, I said, but I would be afraid somebody would misinterpret. - Paula Deen
Paula Deen is not an android. Black people are not electric sheep. That she dreams of a room where the wait staff is one ethnicity means yes, she is racist. She held back not from a recognition that her love for middle aged black men happy to serve her is a racist security blanket, but from a fear that her internalized racism would be exposed. When you think "Oh, everyone says that." or "Oh, everyone feels that way." You are wrong. You are racist and you are seeing the gum on your shoes but you haven't figured out it needs to come off.
"I want people to understand that my family and I -- we're not the kind of people that the press is wanting to say we are." - Paula Deen
What Paula is failing to grasp, what her boys are swinging against, is that it is not the press saying these things. It is the Deen family exposing the soles of their shoes and not realizing what they're stuck on. You are not, to my knowledge, evil. But you're racist. And I'm sorry learning it is proving to be a painful experience. I hope you look back on these days the way your mother does on the girl she beat and I hope you tell the story differently. I hope you understand that all pain is not the same, some is self inflicted.
Tuesday, June 25, 2013
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
You Ain't Even White Tho
*This post contains racial slurs
In America "white" is a social construct meant to denote a position of supremacy and privilege over others. The word "American" is most often used to mean "White American" as it is the only non-hyphenated common use of the word. You are American or you are something else. I am currently a white American and this has conferred many advantages despite my origins in American's lowest classes. I get this, and that things I say often need to be examined for hidden assumptions born from my less than universal experience. It's not a judgement on me when this happens, it's a evaluation of why I believe the thing I have said.
My mother was mostly white. Her father is from a line of very white and very economically and socially privileged people. Her mother was of Bohemian descent. The Eastern Europeans were only marginally white when her parents met, meaning that in infancy my mother would have been perceived as slightly less white than her cousins. Her social class conferred additional white markers on her (such as black housekeepers and personal affluence) that mitigated the effect of a marginally white parent. Therefore, my mother grew up secure in her white identity.
It is the ever evolving definition of white that marks it for it's artificial nature. When Susan Lucci was hired for the soap opera All My Children, she was not intended to be the core character she became. If you ask a modern viewer what ethnicity the actress is they would reply white. They would also say her character, Erica Kane, is a white woman. When Agnes Nixon hired her Lucci was considered "too ethnic" to be a female lead. She was not white. In the 19th and very early 20th century the lynching of Italian immigrants was not unheard of. Now most circles would identify an Italian-American as a white American.
All of this arises from two recent events. In the first event I was at WDW waiting for a tram with my family. The tram operator had a strong (but not difficult to understand) accent. If I were to guess, I would assume he was South American. Behind us a woman and her young daughter were also waiting. The woman began complaining that she could not understand the man. Her language was derogatory and her voice raised. She thought it was a shame he didn't speak her language. My sibling began asking her insulting questions in various languages. I stayed out of it. We all pick our battles and I wasn't in the mood for that one. (Being white, I get to choose which bigots I interact with.) When we excited the tram I asked him to point out who the speaker was. I had expected him to point to some heavily tattooed and very pale people from the row in front of me. Instead he singled out a woman of apparent Italian descent. I said the first thing that came to my mind. "She ain't even white, tho." I didn't mean it sincerely, I meant it sarcastically. I meant it as an illustration of how absurd her insistence on accent free speech was in a country of immigrants. But maybe I didn't. Maybe I was making a snap judgement on her ethnicity from a place of class and color comfort. Because in this second incident, I absolutely meant every word.
In the area I live white is the default norm. We are so lightly integrated that neighbors feel free to complain when I have non white guests in the pool and have actually caused scenes if those guests are black. South Asian children are often referred to as "the negro kid" while the "good" Asians (Chinese, Japanese, Korean) rarely stay in town long. (On the other hand, residents brag about black celebrities who have vacation homes here. Wealth trumps all.) For the last decade or so I have had a close friend who is pale skinned but visibly of Iranian and Indian descent. She has lived here most of her adult life, with her visually white but English and Indian spouse. We have talked many times about the racism accepted in our town. Her child has been one of the children objected to by my neighbors. Life in the White American gaze is something she knows well. Unlike some of our other South Asian friends she has never reacted rudely to gatherings including African Americans. I thought I knew her well and I would have said she was fairly free of bigotry (while adding the caveat that none of us are free of internalized or assumed bias).
Referring to a new employee that had made a minor mistake my friend vehemently said "Ah god, that fucking nigger." She then doubled down in the face of my shock to assert that we'd be better off without "every one of them, fuck them all" as casually as she would call me Baby Girl or order lunch. I walked out in shock. How could someone I thought I knew well have such deeply felt bigotry? As I processed my feelings I found myself examining why my emotional reaction was one of rejection. I have white friends who are deeply racist. We have passionate conversations about race in America. I've actually, if enough wine has flowed, been referred to as "the nigger lover" at parties. Why did this reaction from her bother me more than the same reaction from them? I realized it was because "she ain't even white, tho." Without examining it I was operating with two sets of standards. There were the views I required my white friends to listen to and the views I required my South Asian friends to actually hold. I had compartmentalized the intricate issues of South Asian color and class as their own concern while expecting adherence to my views on American color and class. I was viewing the conversations I have with my white friends as a need for education but viewing bias in my South Asian friend as a character flaw. "She ain't even white tho."
Five days later I still don't see resuming my relationship with her. There was a degree of hate in her voice that would also cause me to drop a white friend exhibiting it. (Trayvon Martin's death cleaned my address book right the hell out.) There is also a lesson here that I have not finished learning. Do I need to raise my standards for White American conduct? Probably. (Almost certainly. There are a lot of Roger Sterlings in my life.) In the moment that she said "nigger" a new reality formed, one that requires me to examine quite a bit about myself and my operating principles. Learning that I had different expectations for different groups is going to require long contemplation.
In America "white" is a social construct meant to denote a position of supremacy and privilege over others. The word "American" is most often used to mean "White American" as it is the only non-hyphenated common use of the word. You are American or you are something else. I am currently a white American and this has conferred many advantages despite my origins in American's lowest classes. I get this, and that things I say often need to be examined for hidden assumptions born from my less than universal experience. It's not a judgement on me when this happens, it's a evaluation of why I believe the thing I have said.
My mother was mostly white. Her father is from a line of very white and very economically and socially privileged people. Her mother was of Bohemian descent. The Eastern Europeans were only marginally white when her parents met, meaning that in infancy my mother would have been perceived as slightly less white than her cousins. Her social class conferred additional white markers on her (such as black housekeepers and personal affluence) that mitigated the effect of a marginally white parent. Therefore, my mother grew up secure in her white identity.
It is the ever evolving definition of white that marks it for it's artificial nature. When Susan Lucci was hired for the soap opera All My Children, she was not intended to be the core character she became. If you ask a modern viewer what ethnicity the actress is they would reply white. They would also say her character, Erica Kane, is a white woman. When Agnes Nixon hired her Lucci was considered "too ethnic" to be a female lead. She was not white. In the 19th and very early 20th century the lynching of Italian immigrants was not unheard of. Now most circles would identify an Italian-American as a white American.
All of this arises from two recent events. In the first event I was at WDW waiting for a tram with my family. The tram operator had a strong (but not difficult to understand) accent. If I were to guess, I would assume he was South American. Behind us a woman and her young daughter were also waiting. The woman began complaining that she could not understand the man. Her language was derogatory and her voice raised. She thought it was a shame he didn't speak her language. My sibling began asking her insulting questions in various languages. I stayed out of it. We all pick our battles and I wasn't in the mood for that one. (Being white, I get to choose which bigots I interact with.) When we excited the tram I asked him to point out who the speaker was. I had expected him to point to some heavily tattooed and very pale people from the row in front of me. Instead he singled out a woman of apparent Italian descent. I said the first thing that came to my mind. "She ain't even white, tho." I didn't mean it sincerely, I meant it sarcastically. I meant it as an illustration of how absurd her insistence on accent free speech was in a country of immigrants. But maybe I didn't. Maybe I was making a snap judgement on her ethnicity from a place of class and color comfort. Because in this second incident, I absolutely meant every word.
In the area I live white is the default norm. We are so lightly integrated that neighbors feel free to complain when I have non white guests in the pool and have actually caused scenes if those guests are black. South Asian children are often referred to as "the negro kid" while the "good" Asians (Chinese, Japanese, Korean) rarely stay in town long. (On the other hand, residents brag about black celebrities who have vacation homes here. Wealth trumps all.) For the last decade or so I have had a close friend who is pale skinned but visibly of Iranian and Indian descent. She has lived here most of her adult life, with her visually white but English and Indian spouse. We have talked many times about the racism accepted in our town. Her child has been one of the children objected to by my neighbors. Life in the White American gaze is something she knows well. Unlike some of our other South Asian friends she has never reacted rudely to gatherings including African Americans. I thought I knew her well and I would have said she was fairly free of bigotry (while adding the caveat that none of us are free of internalized or assumed bias).
Referring to a new employee that had made a minor mistake my friend vehemently said "Ah god, that fucking nigger." She then doubled down in the face of my shock to assert that we'd be better off without "every one of them, fuck them all" as casually as she would call me Baby Girl or order lunch. I walked out in shock. How could someone I thought I knew well have such deeply felt bigotry? As I processed my feelings I found myself examining why my emotional reaction was one of rejection. I have white friends who are deeply racist. We have passionate conversations about race in America. I've actually, if enough wine has flowed, been referred to as "the nigger lover" at parties. Why did this reaction from her bother me more than the same reaction from them? I realized it was because "she ain't even white, tho." Without examining it I was operating with two sets of standards. There were the views I required my white friends to listen to and the views I required my South Asian friends to actually hold. I had compartmentalized the intricate issues of South Asian color and class as their own concern while expecting adherence to my views on American color and class. I was viewing the conversations I have with my white friends as a need for education but viewing bias in my South Asian friend as a character flaw. "She ain't even white tho."
Five days later I still don't see resuming my relationship with her. There was a degree of hate in her voice that would also cause me to drop a white friend exhibiting it. (Trayvon Martin's death cleaned my address book right the hell out.) There is also a lesson here that I have not finished learning. Do I need to raise my standards for White American conduct? Probably. (Almost certainly. There are a lot of Roger Sterlings in my life.) In the moment that she said "nigger" a new reality formed, one that requires me to examine quite a bit about myself and my operating principles. Learning that I had different expectations for different groups is going to require long contemplation.
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