5 items found for your search. If no results were found please broaden your search.
(01/17/19 10:57am)
All pain is not equal.
Volume II, Chapter II of the Netflix series Dear White People exposes this.
Reggie’s new roommate, Clifton, a white student athlete, equates Reggie’s experience of having a gun pointed at him by campus police to Thane’s death, caused by toxic drinking culture. Clifton says simply, “pain is pain.” He fails to acknowledge what the campus protests articulate because he is busy saying “us too.”
Thane’s death is of course very sad and gestures to toxic masculinity and deadly drinking. However, it is not the same as being held at gunpoint because of your skin color. These things are
drastically different.
Instead of trying to relate your pain to someone else’s, try instead to acknowledge that discrimination exists, and people have different relationships to power structures.
Here we can apply Foucault’s work about power structures. It is not about who has suffered the most. Rather, it is about how certain people suffer in particular ways because of their relationship to power. We must understand these relationships if we want to have productive conversations about pain and oppression.
The next time your friends feel like talking about their unique pain or experiences, do not dismiss what they have been through as normal or equivalent to what you have experienced. Each person’s life is different. Ignoring this fact means ignoring that many people experience the world in ways you could never imagine. Instead of trying to understand this, because you never will, try to understand what exactly causes this.
Most often, it is a bunch of institutions that make individuals feel this pain. Understanding the relationship between people and institutions of power is critical to changing oppressive systems.
Another part of this is listening. Not trying to be the same or to have suffered more or to have had worse experiences, but actually listening. Hear people’s pain and respect it. Then, you can start working towards lessening it. This doesn’t always mean comforting a person and saying it will get better, because it won’t. Not until the system that hurts them changes.
We cannot make progress until we acknowledge that people’s pain and suffering is different, because systems affect people differently. We need to stop saying “I have pain too” and start to listen when people say “I suffer because systems make me.”
(12/06/18 10:59am)
Black Lives Matter.
Not black lives matter more, or white lives don’t matter.
Black Lives Matter.
This is not a personal attack against white people. Instead, it is a statement to affirm the importance of a marginalized and violated group. They have been degraded and devalued and continue to face violence at the hands of police, white supremacists and other systems.
It is a recognition of the oppression. A recognition of systemic issues that are so deeply embedded into our culture that white people don’t face.
Often white people will feel attacked, as though recognition of racist systems and their consequences is an attack on their character. We all operate within racist systems that lead to the mass incarceration and violence against people of color. This is the reality that we need to face in order to move forward.
We must recognize the fact that laws unfairly discriminate against people of color. Think about the War on Drugs, which targeted crack cocaine, and compare that with the “opioid epidemic” we are currently facing. Which communities did these predominantly affect? What were the government’s responses? How did this shape your opinion of that community?
Something, such as drug use, becomes criminalized by politicians, the media and the populace when it affects one community (read: black). For others (read: white), we find sympathy and suggest we send them to rehab. This is but one example of what racist systems and policy looks like.
Another is the way police treat communities differently. The fact is, black people are most likely to be stopped, searched and brutalized, if not murdered, by police. The New York Times article “Study Supports Suspicion That Police Are More Likely To Use Force on Blacks,” shows that black people are 3.6 times more likely to face violence from police than white people. The article talks about various cities and sites that sometimes refuse to share data, or find that most often, the force used is found to be excessive. This is because of hundreds of years of criminalization and dehumanization that has created a certain perception of these communities.
This is our reality.
No one is saying that you murdered Philando Castille or Sandra Bland (unless you are the police who actually shot them to death), but BLM is saying that there is a reason that they were murdered. They were murdered because of a racist system.
BLM is saying our reality needs to change.
It is saying that we need to shift our energy from just Band-Aids on a major systemic problem towards a holistic solution.
In recognizing the racism, we recognize the oppression that communities are pleading for us to acknowledge. It also means accepting the value of their voices and trusting what they are telling us.
Instead of becoming defensive when someone says that a comment you made was racist, ask them to explain further what they mean. Trust that they are trying to show you how discriminatory practices have become a norm in our society. When people talk about how policy disproportionately affects particular communities, and therefore is racist, ask them where to find more information.
Instead of becoming defensive and thinking that your ethics are being attacked, trust that they are communicating a reality that you should be aware of too. Respect that their experience is true and significant. Trust that, when people tell you a system is wrong and unjust, they are telling you something important, something worthy of change.
(11/29/18 10:59am)
Editor’s Note: This is an installment of a series in which the writer will reflect on themes in the show “Dear White People,” which she is analyzing in an independent study course.
In Volume II, Chapter X of “Dear White People,” Rikki Carters asks the question, “Do you know what’s historically been America’s most popular form of entertainment besides porn?”
Do you?
Sam, of course, answers right away: it’s minstrelsy.
Rikki quickly follows up and says that this form of entertainment continues today.
Minstrelsy has evolved over time but was originally a practice where white people would don themselves with blackface to mock slaves. It soon began to include black people themselves, forced to perform caricatured, distorted and egregious white interpretations of blackness.
Minstrelsy still exists in many art forms and literature because white people have predominantly dictated what black people must do in order to become famous, or how they should shape themselves to fit our mold. This is an abuse of power in a racist system, which is used to reinforce stereotypes—stereotypes that continue to benefit the people in power.
The problem with our thinking is this: if a black character on a TV show or movie is “too black” or doesn’t fit what we deem is “appropriate” for them, they are heavily criticized not for their ability, but because they are acting in ways that we don’t like. We are quick to shake our heads in disgust at a character that we deem “reverse-racist” or “ghetto.” Instead, we choose to only support “good” black people who conform to our belief systems.
Colin Kaepernick was widely accepted and celebrated until he kneeled during the national anthem in support of Black Lives Matter, thereby protesting against police brutality. Beyoncé was the “perfect” black artist until she replicated the outfits of the Black Panther Party (this was unacceptable to white audiences because it reminded us that black people are powerful).
Minstrelsy is something that white people still do today. It is the presentation of distorted blackness, consumed simply for white pleasure, which simultaneously reinforces problematic prejudice against black people. It’s Uncle Tom’s Cabin, Jim Crow and Tyler Perry movies.
Minstrelsy in the past was a much more clearly distinguished art form because it was specifically named as such. Today, however, it is a little more complicated. Some might argue that certain representations of black experiences in this country are minstrelsy because of the way they reinforce negative stereotypes.
However, I think it is predominantly white consumption of such that makes it minstrelsy. It is when the white audience listens to songs about drug use, for example, written, produced and performed by a black artist as a source of entertainment that reinforces their racial prejudice and systems of power. It is our blind consumption of these performances, like sports, which reinforce a racist system of entertainment, that we need to take a closer look at.
There is an Atlantic article, titled “If Miley Cyrus’s Twerking is Racist, Isn’t Janis Joplin’s Singing Also Racist?,” that clearly demonstrates what modern minstrelsy looks like. It can be white women using black women for attention and cultural capital and as objects to provoke an audience under the pretense of being “edgy.” The article points out that Cyrus’s objectification and use of black culture is modern minstrelsy.
So how do you stop it? Call it out. Calling it out is helpful because it means recognition of an abuse of power and ability.
Another way to subvert minstrelsy is to take the time to read texts about the black experience. Watch shows or films that are produced by someone with real experience as a member of that community. However, do NOT think that it is representative of all black people. Recognize the relationship between racist systems and power. Do NOT think that you know what black people experience in this country because you have seen “Get Out,” for example. Instead, recognize that these voices have a complex relationship with systems of power. Rejecting and fighting minstrelsy is an effort to reject and fight stereotypes that negatively affect marginalized communities. So, try to identify the relationship with power, and question why those negative stereotypes exist and how this influences your interactions with black people.
Finally, in supporting black artists, or artists who are representing their own experience, we are supporting a community for what it is, as it is lived by those individuals, not for what we think about those communities.
(11/08/18 10:57am)
Author’s note: This piece is written in an effort to clarify a term that we often manipulate to have meanings that are contrary to reality. In creating clarity, I hope that people will begin productive conversations that change the way we use it.
“Dear White People,” Volume II Episode I. Sam receives a message from AltIvyW: “…How did you get into Winchester? Oh right. Affirmative Action.”
You might think that this never actually happens in real life, or maybe you’ve heard about it but never seen it. In reality, the Twitter war that Sam gets into is based on real things that people have said to Justin Simien, the creator of the show.
This scene is an example of how students of color are attacked and told that they don’t belong in certain spaces. It is used to demean and negate their presence in a space because white people feel entitled to it.
Affirmative action, to clarify, is the idea that employers, admissions counselors, and those who buy and sell houses will not discriminate against people of color (note that women were later added to these efforts) because of the historical discrimination they faced. The idea is to look more broadly when considering people for positions, because there are plenty people of color that could fill them and do well there. This definition is important for a few reasons.
One, it shows that affirmative action is connected to a history of discrimination and inequity. Furthermore, it shows that restricted access to institutions and economic growth is because of a racist past that (some) politicians, professors and employers want to counteract. This implies that as long as this inequity exists, affirmative action should be in place because it will ensure that people are seeing people of color and women as equal candidates for this work. Therefore, we currently live in an unequal world full of prejudice that needs correcting at an institutional level.
Attempts to eliminate affirmative action are attempts to say that we are in a post-racial world which, hopefully considering our current political situation, we are clearly not living in. The erasure of this idea would revert us back to a world that ignores racist and gendered policies. This would be destructive to the steps we have taken toward equality, no matter how small they have been.
This definition also means you cannot weaponize the term and say that people are only at this college because of their race, because of affirmative action.
This attack does a few things; it suggests that affirmative action is the lowering of standards of admission in order to accept more POCs and marginalized groups. It implies that she does not belong at an elite college because she doesn’t have the intelligence or ability to be accepted on her own merit. It effectively misconstrues what affirmative action is, transforming it into a weapon that questions a person’s qualifications and ability to succeed in a given space.
The concept of affirmative action is not a threat to our (white people’s) place on this campus.
We are still the overwhelming majority on this campus, and that has not changed in the many years of its existence. In the past year, we have seen a higher number of students of color matriculate at Middlebury College. Yet spaces remain mostly white, despite the influx.
Overall, affirmative action is not a threat to the white community. But let’s stop for a second and think about something; why do we think that colleges, jobs and housing are automatically meant for us? Why do we feel entitled to spaces and work? Why do we automatically assume that a seat in a classroom belongs to us? That something that technically was never ours can be “stolen”?
The truth is, this college was made for white men to do research or learn racist anthropology practices. But now? Now it is meant for people who, having proven their academic ability, can grow and learn.
This shift means no one person is entitled to a spot here (or at least they shouldn’t be). Instead, everyone must earn it. And if the person sitting next to you deserves it more, then they rightfully should be offered the spot before you.
Affirmative action is not a threat to our “possessions.”
It is not an insult that signifies inferiority.
It is an effort to right the discriminatory wrongs that have historically oppressed people across education, employment and housing.
Ask yourself, why am I attacking equity efforts? Why do I feel entitled to all of these things, without even questioning how much I deserve them? Why does the presence of people of color feel like a threat?
(10/25/18 9:58am)
I am from Chicago, simultaneously one of the most diverse and segregated places in this country. Yet, the first time I learned about the racist housing policies that create segregation, known as redlining, was in an American Studies course here at Middlebury. I was only exposed to this idea because of my personal interests and class choices. So, I have decided to begin this series that seeks to educate white students on issues that we are not often exposed to because of our race.
We often consume black media without acknowledging what this act means. Luckily, Justin Simien has created a show that invites us to look at what it means to be black on an elite college campus, and more importantly for people like me, what it means to be white on our campus. He presents many familiar conversations, filling in the gaps of knowledge that we, as white students, lack. In the show “Dear White People,” one of the first topics addressed is the legacy of slavery in relation to whiteness in Volume II, Episode I.
To begin: it always goes back to slavery. Always.
This isn’t just a question of recognizing the abuses and dehumanization that our ancestors committed, although that would be a step in the right direction.
Instead, it is about the relics of slavery that exist in our society, systemic or not, that threaten and steal the rights and lives of black Americans today.
First, there is a clear connection between slavery and the current prison system. Slavery became sharecropping, which became Jim Crow, which has finally left us with the current carceral system, which targets people of color and particularly black Americans. They are the overwhelming majority in a privatized prison network that, in practice, must be full in order to fulfill and justify the contracts that companies have with the U.S. government.
And it’s not just incarceration. It is also about what happens after; those who were convicted do not have the right to vote or have access to social systems like welfare. They also are less likely to be hired, let alone at a well-paying job that can support a life without poverty. This is not the only experience, but it is common.
There are many aspects of the prison system that reflect slavery, which we could explore for days or write a thesis on. Michelle Alexander wrote a book on it, appropriately titled, “The New Jim Crow.” It is deeply informative if you are interested in our prison system.
Another relic of slavery is the consistent dehumanization of black people by media, politicians, cops and ourselves. Hypersexualization was and is a tool to demonize black women and men, turning them into something other than human. It is used to construct black men as predators that must be policed. Black women were portrayed as hypersexual beings that could be raped and abused. More than four in 10 will experience physical violence, and over 20 percent are raped in their lifetime. These numbers are higher than those for women in almost every other racial group.
Emmett Till was a young boy beaten to death by Southern whites because a white woman alleged that he addressed her inappropriately. The justification? He was a sexual predator at the age of 14. This was only 63 years ago.
This still exists today in the forms of police brutality, the KKK and the prison system.
Speaking of the KKK, it is important to acknowledge this racist group that was the result of the end of slavery. Whites during Reconstruction sought control over black Americans who had previously been their property but were now “free.” So, they went around terrorizing the black populace and brutally murdering them. Lynching became a spectacle because it was an assertion of power over the “other.” There is currently no federal law against it. The most recent case? 1998. That is if we don’t count police brutality. Since then, numerous nooses have been drawn, put on statues, etc., as a threat against black Americans all over, including President Obama.
These are not the only ways it continues to exist, but they are the most prevalent.
The point is: yes, slavery happened. We are still talking about it and will continue to do so until it is recognized in its present forms and eliminated from our society.
Editor’s Note: This is the first installment of a series in which Alexis Levato will reflect on themes in the show “Dear White People,” which she is analyzing in an independent study course.