What's this blog about?

I teach several courses under the broad topic of "Multicultural Education," prioritizing social justice issues of access, power/privilege, & narrowing the academic achievement gap. I am a person of color and I almost always have a white co-teacher. We include topics, such as: racism, sexism, heterosexism, ableism, ethnocentrism, deculturalization, transforming curriculum, etc. This is a place where I post information that we teach; lesson plans for activities; and resources we use and/or which are shared with me by my adult students.

Friday, August 23, 2013

FOR WHITES (LIKE ME): on white kids

FOR WHITES (LIKE ME): on white kids
http://livingformations.com/2013/08/06/for-whites-like-me-on-white-kids/

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Dear parents of white children,
I vote that we strike the following from our parental lexicon:
  1. “Everybody is equal.”
  2. “We’re all the same underneath our skin.”
Time and again my white students write that “everybody’s equal” is the “most important” thing their parents taught them about race. Time and again a not insignificant number of them then proceed to describe their present trepidation about a) telling their parents they date interracially; b) bringing home a Latino/a or Black classmate; c) Thanksgiving break when everyone will silently tolerate the family member who makes racist comments; or d) something else that reveals how deeply and clearly these students know this “most important teaching” doesn’t mean a hell of a lot to their actual white experience.

I struggled to make sense of these papers for a long time. Then, Nurture Shock (not a book about race) gave me some help. It reports on social scientists’ studies to figure out why so many white kids have such poor facility in engaging racial difference and challenging racism despite their exposure to (liberalish) white culture’s “everybody’s equal” mantras. Turns out our kids, literally, don’t know what “everybody is equal” means. It’s an empty phrase. A numbed out flourish. (Sugar.)

Turns out our kids, literally, don’t know what “everybody is equal” means. It’s an empty phrase. A numbed out flourish. (Sugar.)

Meanwhile, they are daily assailed by a relentless barrage of anti-black imagery, Native American stereotypes, slurs against dark-skinned non-native English speakers and on and on.

I know “everybody’s equal” means “we all deserve to be treated with fairness.” And when we tell kids we’re all the same underneath skin, gender, sexuality, physical abilities and other differences we’re trying to tell them we share human dignity and worth.

Obviously I believe these things.

But, have you ever actually met a “generic” human? Someone without a race or a gender?

Well, guess what? Neither has your child.

And by the age of three our kids are aware of this fact (even though they don’t yet use adult categories to talk about it). If you don’t believe me, pick up The First R. You will be stunned by what preschool children know and do in regard to race.

One more “stat.” I read a study some time ago (I now can’t find it now, sorry!) comparing white and Black families. It found that on average African American parents start talking about race with their African American children by age 3. White parents with white kids? Age 13.

Worse, imagine what happens in my classes when students of color describe their experiences of racism, and their white peers stare at them numbly, repeating: “everybody is equal,” “we’re all the same underneath our skin.” Let’s just say nothing about this exchange inspires robust interracial friendship to develop. Nor does it provide students of color reason to think they’ve found the allies they’ve been hoping for: interested peers prepared to help build a more just racial future.

So, if it’s your four-year-old starting to notice darker skin (which happens when we raise our kids in predominantly white environments), the platitude “we’re all the same underneath” implies they’re noticing something they shouldn’t and insinuates there’s something wrong with darker skin we must need to overlook (meanwhile, your child hears remarks about beautiful blue eyes and blonde hair all the time). How about discussions about and images of the many different beautiful shades of dark skin instead?

We don’t assume pat answers are adequate for enabling our children to learn to navigate relationships, nutrition, sexuality, religion, emotions, or any other challenging reality. Nor do we leave them alone to figure it out.

We equip ourselves, so we can enable them.

Why should race and racism be any different?

Yours in Search of Robust Protein,
A fellow parent with white kids
Jennifer Harvey