I teach drama after school to elementary school students. I show up on Monday and work with them for an hour everyday until Friday. Then I go to a new school and start over again. Learning names in just five days is really hard. I've learned through this job that I'm actually really bad with names. I forget the names of my students all the time. But a few months ago I made a big mistake. I called a young black student in my class by the wrong name. Okay, not that big of a deal. Like I said it's really hard to learn 30 names in five days. But this was different. I called her the name of the only other black girl in the class. The class giggled and shouted "That's not her name Ms. Sara!" I was horribly embarrassed and apologized profusely. I made a specific note to remember her name and use it regularly to make up for my mistake. I was worried I'd scarred her for life but my friends told me to relax, that she probably didn't even notice. I chalked it up to my difficulty with names and moved on. A few weeks later it happened again with two Asian students at another school. Now, I thought, maybe I have a problem. Maybe I'm a little bit racist.
See, when I looked at that little girl and she told me her name I didn't see anything past the color of her skin. That's the note I made in my head. When the white students told me their names I remembered their features, or the way they behaved, or the jokes they made. I looked at them and saw them because I didn't notice their race. It's the same as mine so it's neutral. Like a flesh-colored band-aid. These thoughts were sub-conscious. I didn't realize what I was doing. I didn't do it on purpose. If you asked me about race I would have spoken eloquently and convincingly. I've read the right people and studied the right movements. But that doesn't matter because I had this prejudice living inside me and not seeing it didn't mean it wasn't there.
Maybe you are thinking this doesn't seem like a big deal. I messed up a name. So what? It happens. But the problem isn't that I called her the wrong name. The problem is that this won't be her only experience. She will live her life marginalized for the color of her skin. And maybe someday she'll think back on that moment and remember it as one more straw on the camel's back. That time her drama teacher called her someone else's name. That time her drama teacher confused her with the other black girl.
I spent a lot of time thinking about this and I wrote the first half of this post a month ago. Then I read Malcolm Gladwell's book Blink and it cleared a few things up. Gladwell talks about rapid cognition and thin-slicing. The way that we make first impressions and the extent to which we can control them. He writes about the Implicit Association Test (IAT). A person is shown a series of pictures or words and asked to associate those things with other given words or pictures. You are encouraged to complete the test as quickly as possible. There is a Race IAT. Gladwell writes about his experience taking the test and how unsettling it was for him. How quickly he associated words like "wonderful" and "great" with pictures of white people, and words like "evil" and "hurt" with pictures of black people. He then offers an explanation for this "implicit" behavior. He suggests that all around us images of whiteness are associated with success and goodness, while images of blackness are the opposite. This takes a toll on our unconscious. We control our thoughts and actions when we have time to, but when we don't...that's when mistakes are made. When a student is speaking out of turn I don't take time to remember their names I just react, and that's when I mess up. That's when my unconscious does the work.
Thankfully, Gladwell also offers solutions. The first thing he suggests is to familiarize yourself with positive images and stories of black people. If you look at pictures of Dr. King or read an autobiography of Colin Powell before you take the Race IAT your associations will be more positive. Your unconscious will shift just a little bit. His second suggestion is to spend time with people of other colors. He writes this about truly practicing equality as a white person.
It [equality] requires that you change your life so that you are exposed to minorities on a regular basis and become comfortable with them and familiar with the best of their culture, so that when you want to meet, hire, date, or talk with a member of a minority, you aren't betrayed by your hesitation and discomfort.
I think there is real wisdom in what Malcolm Gladwell says here. Since these two incidents with my students I have taken special care to remember the names of my students. I have not made the same mistake. I forget names from time to time, but if I can't remember I just apologize and ask. I don't assume.
So, why am I telling you this? Why am I admitting my faults online to live forever in cyber space? Because I think acknowledging my prejudice is a good first step. It's about looking at your life and being self-critical. It's about being grateful instead of defensive when you become aware. I don't think racism is just about hating black people. It's about assuming that the color of your skin is the normal color. It's assuming that white is neutral. It's not thinking critically about what the color of your skin means. It's about an institutional systemic problem of prejudice that goes unnoticed by most of us. Racism doesn't always look like racial slurs and hate crimes. That's just where it ends up. It starts with seeing skin color and nothing else. I think it can end there too. So, if you really care then do what Malcolm Gladwell says. Go see Selma. Spend time with people who don't look like you. And slowly, with practice, those unconscious associations will change. They'll shift. Eventually you will start to see a world full of Dr. Kings.
I write and share this with humility. I write this recognizing that I am one part of a conversation much bigger than myself. I hope it was helpful or reassuring or useful to you in some way.