As the summer wears on, faculty members are scurrying to deal with an uncertain fall and those in organizations are sorting out the fallout from a very disruptive summer. Two dark threads weave their way through the tapestry of our lives. The first is the uncertainty and economic disruptions of COVID-19. The second is coming to terms with the greatest racial unrest our country has experienced in many years.
Perhaps the racial tension is the most disquieting. One difference this year is that Black professionals are coming forward with their stories of their encounters with the police. One story that hit close to home was shared on a professional listserv by a colleague, Robert Thomas, an Associate Professor at the University of Florida. “As the Management department chair at my business school, I was working at school on New Year’s Eve. I went to use the bathroom and somehow startled an older white finance professor
I immediately said ‘hello, how are you?’ thinking that he would surely recognize me after 18 years working in the same school and building. Looking back, I realize that I subconsciously made an effort to put him at ease as though his comfort was my responsibility. This sort of automatic reflex response is part of the multitude of survival mechanisms that black people employ on a regular basis.”
“Nonetheless, about 20 minutes later, I heard two police officers obsequiously question a white junior faculty member down the hall from my office about seeing a ‘suspicious’ black man. However, when they got to me the politeness was gone. They menacingly commanded me to provide my ID. When I questioned why I was treated differently from my white junior colleague they encountered, the officer put his hand on his handcuffs and stated, ‘we’re not going there.’ When he finally confirmed that I had a right to be where I was, instead of apologizing, he gruffly commanded his partner to return my ID without giving me a second glance much less an apology. If I had been forceful about getting an explanation for the differential treatment, I likely would have been roughed up and arrested. Would this happen to white colleagues? Well, I actually observed how much better they treated my white colleague. He belonged; I did not.”
Over the past months many of my professional Black friends have recounted similar stories of being asked to account for being in places where others think they did not belong—stories which they hadn’t previously told because they knew how to handle the situation and didn’t want to be accused of whining. Determining how to respond to the recounting of similar events is difficult.
Most white people can remember a time when they were treated unfairly, and so may not see any difference in the events. My grandchildren who are mixed recount stories of being singled out in Black social gatherings because they presented as White, and so didn’t “belong.” And, having had the experience of being a lone White woman in a gathering of Black professionals, I know the feeling of being singled out simply because I didn’t “belong.”
Responding with suspicion and fear when we see someone who doesn’t “belong” to our community is hardwired into our brains, an evolutionary strategy to ensure safety. Jonathan Haidt’s work on biology and ethics confirms that humans have an automatic reaction when they see someone who looks different. For our conversation, the reality is that 63.4% of people in the U.S. identify as non-Hispanic Whites, and so the chances of those who are White being in a situation where they are the decided minority is slim. Blacks, who comprise 13.5% of the population, find themselves as “other” much more often than Whites. When the data as to the number of Blacks who go to college and are represented in the professions is factored in, the opportunities for raising suspicions if one is a Black professional is even higher.
So, how can those of us who are part of the majority both participate thoughtfully in the conversation and engage with others who are in the minority with understanding to forward the conversation?
First, all of us can practice listening to the experience of our conversation partners without defensiveness or seeing similarities or differences in our own lives. While the basis for empathy is a sense of shared experiences, sometimes expressions of similar experiences come across as dismissive of the other person’s own lived experience.
Next, change sides. Each of us can actively seek out an opportunity to be a minority in some situation. When remembering a time or seeking out the experience of being different, pay attention to our emotions and responses as well as the responses of the others in the community. For many the extreme discomfort of being an “other” is the most surprising result. Then, I invite them to imagine having to live with that discomfort—that sense of being a bit on edge—all the time. And then notice how comfortable being with people like ourselves is—which is why we all seek out opportunities to be able to just be one of the group.
A difficult step is to notice how we go on heightened attention and adrenaline spikes when we notice someone who doesn’t seem to belong, someone who is different, walking down the street or in a social situation. When people say they “don’t see color,” they aren’t aware of their own responses. What they hope to convey is that they don’t treat people differently because of race, but they don’t acknowledge the usually unconscious process of determining that the person they are seeing is “safe”—a process that may take a bit of time.
The final step—and the most difficult—is to explore systemic discrimination. This study involves noticing how avoiding those who are different has intentionally been used to divide, such as the Jim Crow laws and redlining, and unintentionally used to disadvantage, such as the GI Bill which provided tuition for veterans but didn’t take into account the number of universities at the end of WWII which were segregated, so that the opportunities for Black veterans were dramatically diminished.
Dismantling overt and implicit racism begins with paying attention to our own beliefs and behaviors. Those of us responsible for teaching about inclusion or ensuring an open and welcoming work environment can use the above strategies to gently help others pay attention to their own responses and participate in the conversation.