About three weeks ago, I met someone in a semi-professional environment. We were just having a casual conversation and it came up that I'm from the south. Upon hearing this, she echoed a sentiment that I'd heard for the first time last summer, both in Portland and Vermont, that she is acutally "scared" of the south. This reverse-bigotry astounded me then and continues to baffle me. Obviously, I know how screwed-up the south is. I lived there for the first 22 years of my life. It is a complicated place, and the racial divide there is one of many factors that make it thus. Last summer, I found this comment made me defensive and actually proud (for the first time in my life) of being from the south. I now always say that I am glad I am from the south; I think it makes me more complicated. Growing up in the south, you learn about irony at a young age. There are contradictions everywhere and at every level of society. Many different kinds of people live in close proximity. Different neighborhoods, yes, but de-facto segregation is nothing new. The divide at this point seems more cultural than practical, which of course is a gross underestimation of the may factors that contribute to it, but alas, I digress. What I'm trying to say is, regardless of all the problems, people still interact, and if there's racism, it's known. It's not hidden. It's not a secret. That doesn't make it right, but there's an awareness that precludes denial. With a 7% African-American population in Portland, it is easy to espouse the best ways to deal with racial tension without actually doing anything about it, because basically, you don't have to.
But back to my friend.
I pushed her further as to why she is afraid of the south ad she described some of the normal bad things about the south (racism, fundamentalism, misogyny, etc.), but went on to say (with a chuckle and shake of her head) that she just wished she could sit down with people there and fix these problems.
I found this a) condescending and b) a vast under-estimation of the complexity of these problems. I attempted to make a polite rebuttal but it was neither the time nor place for a full on argument. The conversation ended with a mutual shrug.
Did I mention she was born and raised in Portland?
Then at meeting this morning, the first message was given by a beautifully spirited elder in the meeting. This woman's concern, warmth, and openness point to a life of kindness. I want so much to be like her at her age. Anyway, she spoke to her concern of the condition of Burma (Myanmar). She expressed her own internal conflict of recognizing the need for aid there, but the corrupt government preventing it. She shared her confusion of being unsure of how to respond. She proposed three options:
1) Doing nothing
2) Waiting until asked for aid to give it
3) Forcing our way in despite the political conditions.
She said she didn't know the right response because she didn't think there was one. What she was struggling with, she shared, was that she hoped to find a best if not right course of action.
Then at lunch today (a group of 9! Young Adult Friends gathered after meeting for lunch today. Super Fantastic!!), we started discussing a YAF conference that a couple of people had attended last weekend in Indiana. Somehow a conversation about community and diversity came up in a reference to both the queer and non-white communities both present and absent from their conference and our local gathering. One Friend went on to propose (quoting the sole black attendee of the conference) that if we want to see more people of different backgrounds in our meeting then we need to "reach out to them, welcome them to the table, and invite them to help us decide how the table is set." He is always quick with a beautiful metaphor, so I pushed him to discuss practically what that meant. Deftly skirting over any overt reference to a specific group, he proposed that if we wanted to see more people who owned canaries in meeting that we should call the canary owners in the community, invite those of the canary-owning persuasion to join us, welcome them into our group and listen to their canary-owning perspective, and invite them to join in the decision making process of our meeting.
While I see the truth and Quaker essence in this proposition, I find it somehow flawed as well. There is something inherently condescending in both my friends' propositions for improvement. They are both people I respect and value their opinions greatly, but their comments, to me, denoted a blindness to privilege that both prevents us from solving our own complaints (lack of diversity), an perpetuates a kind of bigotry in itself.
I understand the need to actively reach out and listen to the voices that have been systematically oppressed in our culture and society, but I am tired of people of privilege and power making beautiful theoretical statements about the best way to fix other people's lives.
To me, it seems that people who crave "diversity" live farthest away from it. It also seems that these same people have a haphazard craving/need to surround themselves with people who are different from them. Similarly, it seems that all this inclusiveness is a guilt-laden reactionary response to make privileged people feel better about being privileged.
Attempting to atone for the sins of previous generations by reaching out to people of a specific race or class simply because they are different seems a perversion of intent. Conversely, it is also important to note that it is a gross misinterpretation of reality to deny that there is indeed a vast disconnect in our society between people of different races, socio-economic statuses, and sexual orientations.
I feel that in reaching out to people, we should reach out to all people. Yes, that includes people of different races, sexual-orientations, and socio-economic statuses paying special attention to any prejudices that may reside within ourselves. As a member of the majority, I feel it is my responsibility to be sensitive to the needs of others without assuming I know the best answers for them. The goal is to be inclusive while simultaneously respectful of differences. Is that possible? Like I said, this has been at the forefront of my heart and mind and I welcome any criticism or discussion this may spur. I am wrestling with this issue and am no where close to having a conclusion for this post.
2 comments:
Hannah, I was doing a little facebook stalking and found the link to your blog. After reading this particular entry several times, I was trying to formulate some sage insight to the matter. Frankly, I have none. I, like you, have lived with racism my whole life. I think if people were truely honest with themselves, they too would come to the same realization. I also think that if we are all honest with ourselves, we would see that we have been guilty of saying something or doing something that was influenced or colored by racism, which only perpetuates the issue. Sometimes it's the smallest things. My best co-worker friend and I were talking the other day about the use of the word ghetto as an adjective. It is something that I have never really thought about, but he has a different perspective as a African American male and the usage of this word in such a manner really offends him. This is why I love our relationship. In some instances he opens my eyes so that I can see through to the other side and in other instances I open his. It is a beautiful give and take relationship. In the end, I think the best course of action is to be aware, to understand your actions and how they could be viewed by someone who isn't like you. An old professor, in the process of a lecture, said that people don't like to admit that they are privileged. I think this is the truest statement I've ever heard before. I think it makes us more comfortable to highlight all the ways we are underprivileged It makes us feel better to think we've overcome so many obstacles. In opposition, I try to highlight all the ways that I am privileged, no matter how obscure (white, loving family, fairly easy access to great education, raised in safe, secure area, had pets, right-handed and so forth and so on). I think that if we would just highlight the ways in which we are privileged more often, perhaps, we could let go of the anger and resentment that so often accompany racism and prejudice and bigotry.
Hannah, you are the bomb. How many people ponder these relationships?
Love everybody. At least give them a chance.
I wish there was an easy answer.
At least you ponder.
Auntie
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