As the saga of me trying to negotiate the strange territory of my daughter's school continues, the latest development is this: a friend smartly noticed that the principal had indicated in an email that she planned to speak to my daughter and given that her last email had basically honed in on the question of my daughter's honesty, my friend thought it would be wise to make sure that Benin had a parent present if the Principal decided to talk with her so that the incident could not be reduced to "you're a girl who told a lie and you should learn not to do that." So I sent a brief note saying that under no circumstances was the principal to speak to my child without a parent present. She responded by saying she did not understand the tone or the content of my note. One is tempted to say, "What part of you may not speak to my child without me present" do you not understand?
I think at this point I could safely be described as "hopping mad," and with Easter approaching, that might be a seasonally appropriate image. Only this easter bunny is on the warpath, so to speak, and I use that term rather purposefully because not only am I so mad I could spit, but I'm mad about being treated like bringing up issues of race and diversity is pretty much like speaking gibberish. So this Easter Bunny is not above thinking that a scorched earth approach might be the way to go.
One reason I'm so mad is that I seem to have turned into the Asian version of an uppity nigger. I don't know if there is a term for that, but whatever it is, I'm it. The other reason I'm mad is that being on a treadmill of denial is debilitating. "What racism?" It's like a big elephant in the room, and to add to it, the elephant has taken an enormous shit, and the nice manners required in our society breed a conspiracy of blindness that claims that those people who see the elephant are in fact the ones who have a problem.
The truth is, most racism is wonderfully well-mannered and polite -- its even loving. This is something that my father and his friend Jeff Chan noted in an essay they wrote way back in 1973. That essay was called "Racist Love" and I have to say that in the main, the essay still reads as totally fresh. Which is scary. They talk about how the good minorities (like Asians) are the ones that are useful for white supremacy, and the bad minorities are the ones who challenge white supremacy. Now, since in nice schools, the bargain is that we all agree that white supremacy is to be called -- nothing at all (it's the invisible elephant) -- saying something like "I see an elephant," or "I think I smell elephant shit" is cause for alarm because it upsets the status quo. One response is misdirection -- turn it into another issue, preferably in which the elephant-sighter or elephant shit smeller becomes the problem: someone who needs to be put in their place, shut up or shut out. Another response is honest confusion. Get used to NOT seen elephants for long enough and you really do lose the ability to see them. When I'm feeling compassionate, and not like a marauding easter bunny, I might be inclined to view this as a disability that needs to be dealt with like any other.
So here I am, a hopping mad marauding uppity chink Easter Bunny, ready to hit the warpath just like General Sherman on his march to Atlanta.
What could be more American than that?
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Friday, February 15, 2008
When life overflows, you write.
Many people, most of them white, would probably say that I'm hypersensitive when it comes to race. Being complimented on my mastery of the English language has sortof lead to me feeling that, well, my race in fact does matter. But why should I get so prickly about getting compliments for goodness sake? The fact that English is my native language might have just a little to do with it. When I'm feeling extra pissy I might want to point out that my verbal score on the GRE was 98th percentile.
This is the sort of maddening thing that always seems to happen to me when I'm teaching: the very concepts I'm teaching my students just fly back at me. They don't haunt me. Rather, the smack me upside the head and leave me reeling. So what am I teaching this semester: my introductory level race class and children and childhood. Strangely -- or even perhaps, predictably -- it is both my child and my children and childhood class that have smacked me upside the head with racial dilemmas.
The first was, if anything, ridiculously, depressingly stereotypical. I'd asked the students in my children and childhood class to get out and observe children and well, the one black man in the class just couldn't do it. It wasn't that he didn't want to. No, the problem was that every time he parked himself near a playground to observe some kids in action, some parent would come up to him and tell him to get lost. In a class of nearly 25 students, he was the only one to be told not once but FOUR times, to leave where he was at. I was revolted by the racism inherent in these interactions, and felt guilty for having in essence thrown him to the wolves.
My self indulgent self flagellation was (thankfully) interrupted by my getting myself into a tangle about race at my daughter's school. She goes to school in one of those school districts where people move and pay WAY too much for their houses for the privilege of getting their kids into a 'good' school district. The student population is wonderfully diverse racially and ethnically and even economically (to a degree). For my white and chinese and black daughter, it's a wonderfully diverse place, at least in terms of skin tones and backgrounds.
She came home the other day describing a lunar new year celebration that made me more than a little edgy. In her version, kids of Japanese and Korean and Chinese descent were trotted out to say 'gung hay fat choy' to the rest of the school and then bow to them. She told me that she was among them, although someone had to check her records to see that she was indeed part Chinese before being included in the event. Not only that, but she overheard someone saying "why is that Black girl up there?" Turns out her version strayed rather significantly from the truth since she hadn't participated in it and it's unlikely that anyone actually checked her records or other kids made that comment.
But imagine me hearing her version. OK, I'm trying to be not too crazily upset by the whole image of a bunch of Asian kids standing in front of the rest of the school bowing and speaking in foreign languages and wearing exotic clothing and otherwise being on display. So I ask to speak to the principal, hoping to find out more about the event, to see what had happened. "What is this about?" the secretary asks when I call. So I tell her, rather vaguely. She tells me I need to speak with the classroom teacher which frankly doesn't make sense to me since this wasn't a classroom event and besides, aren't Principals supposed to be available to parents? Because I'm sometimes or even often a bit bratty when being told what to do, being told I cannot speak to the principal just lights my fire. Fuck this, I think, I'll just send her an email.
So I send an email, describe what my kid has told me, while including what I think are indications that I'm not taking everything she says at face value but the thing that is just staring me in the face is that her story tells me this: regardless of what did or didn't happen, she's feeling more than a little on the spot about who she is, racially speaking, and negotiating this at school is a bit difficult for her.
The principal tries to call me back and now, as of this moment, I wish I'd been able to answer the phone instead of at pilates working my abs. It probably would have cleared things up relatively easily and in a way that didn't challenge white cluelessness unduly.
I want to say I'm sorry for saying something like "white cluelessness," but having experienced it really pretty much every day of my life, I'm not sure why I should be apologizing for white people being clueless.
Here's how the event went. On Friday mornings at the school there is an outdoor assembly complete with the pledge of allegiance and announcements over a crap sound system. A Korean parent asked if it would be OK to have some Korean kids do something, wearing Korean dress. So they gave a greeting (or something) and there was a discussion or quick explanation of the lunar new year and this was described to me as cultural pride and sharing.
(Here are questions I have: what other activities was the school doing to recognize and celebrate the lunar new year, given its importance to a large proportion of school families? what I read in my daughter's imaginative retelling of the story is, in part, a desire to have been included in such celebration, since it's part of her heritage, too.)
There is no doubt that my first email to the school principal was -- ooooh, how do I say it just right -- it wasn't hot and out of control, but it didn't pull punches either. Very specifically, I voiced a concern that the structure of the event put a particular bunch of kids on display for the other kids, and that many of those other kids (and the white ones specifically) would never go on display under similar circumstances.
This is, of course, the whole lie of whiteness: that it is nothing. It's nothing to worry about, nothing to get upset about, and nothing to talk about. For me to raise the issue as problematic that Asian children are on display, complete with exotic clothing, language and behaviors, and that white kids are not going to be in similar positions, that makes me an oversensitive and hypercritical person who is just chomping at the bit for the opportunity to cry "Racism!" at every opportunity.
Perhaps it was just my bad luck that my student had just happened to have been chased out of four playgrounds that same week, because with that little incident buzzing around my head, the whole lunar new year thing didn't seem so sweet, no matter whose idea it was.
The truly amazing thing has been that the principal of my daughter's school handily turned the whole thing around so that my daughter is a liar who has implicated others in things they did not do and that what I should do about all of this is school her in the importance of telling the truth. I haven't been on the receiving end of one of these sleight of hand moves in quite some time. I was also invited to make an appointment if I have concerns about any school personnel.
At the moment I'm trying to dream up the appropriately tart, ironic, and double-voiced response, something along the lines of well, you know, I see now that really there's nothing to talk about and thank you so much for responding to me because it's been so helpful to me in allowing me to understand the the circumstances that were giving me concern. You know, a message that says, basically: Oh yes I understand there's really nothing to talk about because it's clear that the nub of what is driving me crazy here is totally my fault as far as you are concerned and that in fact is really helpful to know because it basically just confirms to me what I have already known and learned from and endless, endless number of people before you: that being called to the carpet on 'meaningless' incidents that have racist undertones will not be acknowledged; that racism is my problem and not yours; and that the lies you live are ones you get to tell whenever you want but when my daughter tries to name them, she becomes a liar. And, thank you so much for responding to my concerns with aggressive self protection, which is what I must say I always hope for from the people who are in charge of educating my child.
Oh excuse me, it that over the top? The problem is this: the line between let's celebrate and let's kick the black guy out of the playground because he makes us uncomfortable is straight and true and it cuts like a knife. People might want to deny the connection, but as they say, the shortest distance between two points is a straight line. Not until we get to see a bunch of white kids wearing their cultural clothes and performing their cultural behaviors for others to celebrate will I ever believe otherwise.
This is the sort of maddening thing that always seems to happen to me when I'm teaching: the very concepts I'm teaching my students just fly back at me. They don't haunt me. Rather, the smack me upside the head and leave me reeling. So what am I teaching this semester: my introductory level race class and children and childhood. Strangely -- or even perhaps, predictably -- it is both my child and my children and childhood class that have smacked me upside the head with racial dilemmas.
The first was, if anything, ridiculously, depressingly stereotypical. I'd asked the students in my children and childhood class to get out and observe children and well, the one black man in the class just couldn't do it. It wasn't that he didn't want to. No, the problem was that every time he parked himself near a playground to observe some kids in action, some parent would come up to him and tell him to get lost. In a class of nearly 25 students, he was the only one to be told not once but FOUR times, to leave where he was at. I was revolted by the racism inherent in these interactions, and felt guilty for having in essence thrown him to the wolves.
My self indulgent self flagellation was (thankfully) interrupted by my getting myself into a tangle about race at my daughter's school. She goes to school in one of those school districts where people move and pay WAY too much for their houses for the privilege of getting their kids into a 'good' school district. The student population is wonderfully diverse racially and ethnically and even economically (to a degree). For my white and chinese and black daughter, it's a wonderfully diverse place, at least in terms of skin tones and backgrounds.
She came home the other day describing a lunar new year celebration that made me more than a little edgy. In her version, kids of Japanese and Korean and Chinese descent were trotted out to say 'gung hay fat choy' to the rest of the school and then bow to them. She told me that she was among them, although someone had to check her records to see that she was indeed part Chinese before being included in the event. Not only that, but she overheard someone saying "why is that Black girl up there?" Turns out her version strayed rather significantly from the truth since she hadn't participated in it and it's unlikely that anyone actually checked her records or other kids made that comment.
But imagine me hearing her version. OK, I'm trying to be not too crazily upset by the whole image of a bunch of Asian kids standing in front of the rest of the school bowing and speaking in foreign languages and wearing exotic clothing and otherwise being on display. So I ask to speak to the principal, hoping to find out more about the event, to see what had happened. "What is this about?" the secretary asks when I call. So I tell her, rather vaguely. She tells me I need to speak with the classroom teacher which frankly doesn't make sense to me since this wasn't a classroom event and besides, aren't Principals supposed to be available to parents? Because I'm sometimes or even often a bit bratty when being told what to do, being told I cannot speak to the principal just lights my fire. Fuck this, I think, I'll just send her an email.
So I send an email, describe what my kid has told me, while including what I think are indications that I'm not taking everything she says at face value but the thing that is just staring me in the face is that her story tells me this: regardless of what did or didn't happen, she's feeling more than a little on the spot about who she is, racially speaking, and negotiating this at school is a bit difficult for her.
The principal tries to call me back and now, as of this moment, I wish I'd been able to answer the phone instead of at pilates working my abs. It probably would have cleared things up relatively easily and in a way that didn't challenge white cluelessness unduly.
I want to say I'm sorry for saying something like "white cluelessness," but having experienced it really pretty much every day of my life, I'm not sure why I should be apologizing for white people being clueless.
Here's how the event went. On Friday mornings at the school there is an outdoor assembly complete with the pledge of allegiance and announcements over a crap sound system. A Korean parent asked if it would be OK to have some Korean kids do something, wearing Korean dress. So they gave a greeting (or something) and there was a discussion or quick explanation of the lunar new year and this was described to me as cultural pride and sharing.
(Here are questions I have: what other activities was the school doing to recognize and celebrate the lunar new year, given its importance to a large proportion of school families? what I read in my daughter's imaginative retelling of the story is, in part, a desire to have been included in such celebration, since it's part of her heritage, too.)
There is no doubt that my first email to the school principal was -- ooooh, how do I say it just right -- it wasn't hot and out of control, but it didn't pull punches either. Very specifically, I voiced a concern that the structure of the event put a particular bunch of kids on display for the other kids, and that many of those other kids (and the white ones specifically) would never go on display under similar circumstances.
This is, of course, the whole lie of whiteness: that it is nothing. It's nothing to worry about, nothing to get upset about, and nothing to talk about. For me to raise the issue as problematic that Asian children are on display, complete with exotic clothing, language and behaviors, and that white kids are not going to be in similar positions, that makes me an oversensitive and hypercritical person who is just chomping at the bit for the opportunity to cry "Racism!" at every opportunity.
Perhaps it was just my bad luck that my student had just happened to have been chased out of four playgrounds that same week, because with that little incident buzzing around my head, the whole lunar new year thing didn't seem so sweet, no matter whose idea it was.
The truly amazing thing has been that the principal of my daughter's school handily turned the whole thing around so that my daughter is a liar who has implicated others in things they did not do and that what I should do about all of this is school her in the importance of telling the truth. I haven't been on the receiving end of one of these sleight of hand moves in quite some time. I was also invited to make an appointment if I have concerns about any school personnel.
At the moment I'm trying to dream up the appropriately tart, ironic, and double-voiced response, something along the lines of well, you know, I see now that really there's nothing to talk about and thank you so much for responding to me because it's been so helpful to me in allowing me to understand the the circumstances that were giving me concern. You know, a message that says, basically: Oh yes I understand there's really nothing to talk about because it's clear that the nub of what is driving me crazy here is totally my fault as far as you are concerned and that in fact is really helpful to know because it basically just confirms to me what I have already known and learned from and endless, endless number of people before you: that being called to the carpet on 'meaningless' incidents that have racist undertones will not be acknowledged; that racism is my problem and not yours; and that the lies you live are ones you get to tell whenever you want but when my daughter tries to name them, she becomes a liar. And, thank you so much for responding to my concerns with aggressive self protection, which is what I must say I always hope for from the people who are in charge of educating my child.
Oh excuse me, it that over the top? The problem is this: the line between let's celebrate and let's kick the black guy out of the playground because he makes us uncomfortable is straight and true and it cuts like a knife. People might want to deny the connection, but as they say, the shortest distance between two points is a straight line. Not until we get to see a bunch of white kids wearing their cultural clothes and performing their cultural behaviors for others to celebrate will I ever believe otherwise.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)