Wednesday, December 31

Looking up to own race gives hope to ending bias


Thursday, January 14, 1999

Looking up to own race gives hope to ending bias

IDENTITY: Since America still judges blacks by skin rather than
worth, exemplars vital

One of my earliest childhood memories is an argument I had with
a little girl on the playground over whose turn it was on the
slide. After several minutes of feuding, the little girl, who
happened to be white, informed me that because I was a "nigger" I
could not go first. I did not know what the word meant, but the
tone in which she said it rang with superiority and was tinged with
disgust. I ran to my father crying, and he explained to me that a
"nigger" is someone who is ignorant, not someone who is black.
Though it was years ago, that memory has been with me all my
life.

My identity as a part of a collective was defined for me in
negative terms by mainstream America – without any consideration to
my individuality. I would later learn that mainstream America
considered my lips too big, my hair too nappy and me too dumb to be
a valuable member of society. Sadly, every black child in America
will experience the cruelty of this country’s racism. Had it not
been for black role models whose achievements proved that one’s
identity is not reducible to race (and the stereotypes of that
race), I would not have had positive images of blackness.

If racism and discrimination were not at the core of American
ideology, I would agree that personal achievement should be praised
over ethnic achievement. But, in a country where one race controls
the lives of another through oppressive means, racial solidarity is
crucial to the psychological and emotional well being of the
oppressed.

Those who criticize others for having racial pride may not
understand the necessity of it because they have not had to live
with the painful experiences of racial hatred. They do not know how
it feels to have their hearts ache with a dull pain upon reading
that someone believes there will be less watermelon seeds and
greasy chicken stains all over campus with the passage of
Proposition 209. Or the outrage one feels as they watch churches go
up in flames because the members of the congregation are black.
They certainly do not understand the helplessness that overtakes
you when you realize that no matter how hard you work the only
thing others see is your skin color.

I did not ask to be classified as black, but America was not
content to consider me American. The color of my skin has always
been directly correlated to my worth and capabilities.

Black merit has been questioned in this country since its
foundation. Phylis Wheatley, a black slave, was brought to America
and mastered the English language, producing brilliant poetry. She
was forced to take an examination in a courtroom to prove that the
work was her own. In order for it to be validated, 18 white judges
had to give approval of its authenticity.

After it was accepted as her own, it was a shock to them that
"this uncultivated Barbarian from Africa was able to write the
poetry" (Karla Holloway, "Codes of Conduct"). Wheatley’s
achievement should have been recognized as an achievement for
Americans, but because she was black it was disregarded. This
happened over 200 years ago, but little has changed.

Just because language has been progressive and people who once
called me a "nigger" are now politically correct and call me
African American does not mean that they acknowledge my
achievements. My personal achievement of getting into this
university has been undermined by those who feel that I am simply a
beneficiary of affirmative action.

When my intellect, morality and worth are questioned on the
basis of my ethnic background, it is necessary for us to identify
and celebrate the accomplishments of those like us to promote
esteem and love for ourselves.

I am not suggesting that I do not appreciate the accomplishments
of people outside of my race, nor that I think all black people
should be praised simply for being black. I am not so narrow-minded
to believe that those of my race are the only people who can
produce worthy contributions to society, a lesson mainstream
America has yet to learn.

Critics of ethnic pride fail to consider what fostered the
emergence of this concept. America should have thought about the
consequences of its racism before it implemented it into almost
every facet of life.

When I turn on the television I am bombarded with images of
"black life," which, for mainstream America, is that of hoodlums
and gang members who are stealing, looting, raping, rioting, etc.,
etc. Some of you may say the news can only report the truth. I can
accept that. But they fail to report the truth of affluence, high
educational standards, and the commitment to community which exists
as well.

I do not believe that because I am black I can identify with
every aspect of another black person’s life. Despite the diversity
of our experiences, however, we all are subject to the same
stereotypes and institutionalized racism.

Many people do not like to discuss the issue of racism because
it is easier to sweep that nasty problem under a rug or to keep it
hidden in a closet. The idea that racial solidarity is negative has
only emerged within the last two decades because it is within this
time frame that there has been an increase of people of color in
the middle class.

Because racial solidarity has been the force creating such gains
through support networks and advocacy groups, the new propaganda in
mainstream ideology is that racial solidarity is bad and oppressed
people should objectify their histories. They should slide them
away on a shelf next to their collections of the great American
novels. We should not dare to remind America that racism is still a
factor in our lives, a reality in our existence. Entire races and
ethnic groups still contribute to our oppression when they do not
challenge the degree to which they themselves (as individuals
within the collective) have been socialized to be comfortable with
our oppressed state.

I have walked into discussions and often been the only black
student in attendance. This is not a result of black inadequacy,
rather it is a reflection of economic oppression and social
inequality, which is present in secondary institutions.

I am aware that some students mentally note that Proposition 209
is accomplishing its task; this makes me feel feel slightly
unnerved. As I sit there, I am reminded of my struggle in America.
I am reminded that I am not expected to achieve.

At that moment I may think of Angela Davis, Assata Shakur, Toni
Morrison, Henry Highlander Garnett, Sojourner Truth, Audre Lorde,
Marcus Garvey, and I feel empowered. (You should be familiar with
their accomplishments – they are Americans.) I am reminded that
they reached the heights of excellence despite the consequences of
their black skin. In that moment, I am given hope. In that moment,
I am given strength.

Comments, feedback, problems?

© 1998 ASUCLA Communications Board[Home]


Comments are supposed to create a forum for thoughtful, respectful community discussion. Please be nice. View our full comments policy here.