The
whole Trayvon Martin tragedy underscores the fact that we can’t hide behind
“Well we have the fist black president” thing. Sadly, I, too, needed the Trayvon Martin/ George Zimmerman reminder that racism is still a
horrible reality.
I,
too, hid behind, “Look how much progress we made! The first black president!” What an awesome day that was when Barack Obama put his hand
on the bible and swore to defend the constitution. Truly. Even
thinking about it is amazing.
It
meant racism was over, right?
Uh,
guess not. And it’s not just
racism that isn’t over. It’s
homophobia. It’s anti-semitism. It's ageism. It’s children still being programmed to
turn to the man in the room to make a decision. Because he’s the man.
Each
year I have Hispanic students tease classmates who have darker shades of brown
skin. The first time it happened in
my classroom I found it completely absurd. Since it pretty much happens every year, at one time or
another, the absurdity has unfortunately become commonplace. When it happens, I get so frustrated
because I feel like my students need to “unlearn” bigotry. My job is to teach them. Not to unteach them.
Something
weird happened in the early 1990’s.
I was working at a coffee shop when this new girl was hired. Let’s call
her Anja.
Anja
seemed nice and really cool and I liked her. She was funny and smart and she laughed at my dumb
jokes. She appreciated some of the
pranks my coworkers and I would instigate like when, in the middle of July, we’d
change the shop music to Christmas music just to see if anyone would
notice. (About half.)
Shortly
after meeting her, as we were getting to know each other, Anja informed me that
she was born in Germany. I had
never met anyone who was born in Germany, even though my heritage is half
German and half Russian.
After
she told me this, I had this really weird reaction to Anja. All of a sudden, well, she? Pissed me
off? I suddenly disliked her, but
I didn’t know why. I didn’t
understand my own reaction. I
stopped talking to her so much and, instead, found myself waiting for her to
start conversations. I waited for
her to take control of our exchanges, which she eventually did. But nothing she said satisfied me. It was like I was waiting for her to
say something specific.
Oddly,
at some point, I finally realized I was waiting for an apology? It was so
strange to admit. Why the hell did
I want this from Anja? Anja did
nothing to me. She wasn’t even
alive during the Holocaust. Also,
I am not what they call a practicing Jew, although I could use some practice. What the hell was wrong with me? I wanted her to apologize?
Whatever
was wrong with me, I couldn’t deny that this is exactly what I wanted from
Anja. I wanted some kind of
acknowledgement that the Holocaust happened and that her ancestors may have
been involved. Was her grandfather
one of the reasons my cousin had to be thrown over a fence to live with another
family in order to survive? Did one
of her uncles or a great uncle, maybe, flick the switch that cued the gas? Did one of her ancestors brutalize one
of mine?
Anja
and I did become friends, but not close ones. I never disclosed to her anything about my feelings. Instead, I just judged myself for
having them. What may have helped,
however, would have been if we could have at least talked about the atrocity
that occurred in her country of origin, to my ancestors. Maybe if we could have just
acknowledged that it sucked I may have felt better. Something.
I
feel sorry to people who are targets of racism. I am sorry. I’m
sorry that perhaps some of my ancestors had some of their ancestors as
slaves. I’m sorry that people who
have darker skin are not treated equally.
I, too, have been socialized to have inappropriate, unfair reactions to
people with darker skin.
As
in the scenario President Obama illustrated in his speech, I imagine myself in
an elevator when a large, dark man enters. Perhaps I’m alone.
Any man would make me a bit on edge. Would I be more on edge if he was dark? Would it have been better if he was short?
I
refuse to succumb. I want to look
at him in the eyes. I want us both
to decide to unlearn what we have learned. I want us to define how people should behave. I want us to live in this moment: the
one that we create. I refuse to acknowledge the forces that encourage me to be afraid of you, I want to tell him, and I can only hope that you
refuse to assume that I am.
I
want the dialogue to continue. I
do think that the nation as a whole needs to formally apologize to African
Americans and anyone else with dark skin for the treatment of blacks. I’m sure there exists some time in
history when such an apology may have been issued. Whoever did this apology, whenever it was, I don’t think it
was enough. The Trayvon Martin murder
brought too much pain to the surface for it to have ever been enough.
