I have a friend who asked me to read White Fragility last summer. She is white, straight, and cisgender. She has lived in the majority (except for being female) her whole life. I am non-white, non-straight, and cisgender. I can't remember a time when I was ever in the majority (except for during some closed events, like certain small celebrations and parties). I read the book with great interest. I marked about a half dozen passages, including this one:
"If you stand close to a birdcage and press your face against the wires, your perception of the bars will disappear and you will have an almost unobstructed view of the bird. If you turn your head to examine one wire of the cage closely, you will not be able to see the other wires. If your understanding of the cage is based on this myopic view, you may not understand why the bird doesn't just go around the single wire and fly away. You might even assume that the bird liked or chose its place in the cage."
I do not agree that, "If you are white, you are racist." In fact, I find that rather insulting. I quoted the metaphor because I think it can instruct well-intentioned white people. Without having the experience of being a minority, there is only so much intellectual exploration a person can do about racism and discrimination. In that case, privileged white Americans who look too closely to the issues can miss the forest for the trees. There is another implication to that quote, but it's not for this post. I don't think that white Americans are automatically racist, but I do take with a grain of salt anyone's opinion on minority conditions who has never lived as a minority.
To directly answer your last question, I have said for a very long time that I believe that all people everywhere should live somewhere as a minority for at least three years. It is probably most informative to exist as a racial minority, but religious minorities, sexual minorities, and women also deal with issues of discrimination that transform perspective. The US is so insular, so culturally incurious, and so geographically isolated that most white people's perception is never going to include anything other than white people's perception because there is no exposure to anything else. Having black and gay and Muslim friends is all fine and good. Sympathy makes the world a better place. Empathy is better.
Looking at your last sentence again it made me think of my family moving to Oakland in 1981. At the time Oakland was 47% black so technically we were a minority in Oakland. But the Bay Area still had a majority white people so it's not quite the same as say travelling to China and being a true minority in the country.
This guy writes a column on racial issues in the Bay Area and sort of addresses what you are saying. I get why we frame racial issues in terms of black and white. But in the Bay Area we have a large Asian, Hispanic and even Indian contingent. I know certain places in the country really are mostly white and black but not here. I read this and do my best to put myself in his shoes and understand his position. I've ridden BART for years. Maybe during commute rush hours the ridership is a little bit whiter, but often it looks like the U.N. with people from all walks of life using it. And I've rarely seen people removed from BART. If anyone has it's because they are likely homeless/on drugs and harassing people or maybe jumped the turnstile. But they don't just throw people off the train.
And its interesting to hear this because we're not in the Deep South. This is the Bay Area where we celebrate diversity and open mindedness. Here's this gentleman's position.
Being Black in the Bay Area means code-switching to keep white people comfortable
During a recent trip to Whole Foods in Oakland, while stocking up on Thanksgiving ingredients, I overheard an employee near the checkout counter tell a customer to be careful while walking to their car. Apparently, there was a naked Black man roaming around outside, possibly armed with a knife.
The customer didn’t react much outside of a curt nod and a quiet “thanks,” before shuffling toward the exit. Not long after, during the same visit, I saw two teenagers sprint out of the store with some stolen items. Each was wearing a mask and hoodie. My first thought: “I hope they weren’t Black, too.”
As far as I knew, I was the only Black non-employee in the store. And, for the rest of my time shopping, I could feel myself trying to convey some unrequested sign of civility to the white people around me. I was smiling with my eyes whenever another shopper’s gaze caught my own. When it was my turn to check out, I could hear myself using a voice with the worker at the register that was slightly softer, more cordial and maybe an octave higher than normal.
Some instinct was telling me to adjust my speech, my body language, all in an effort to optimize the comfort of non-Black people around me. I was code-switching, trying to blend in with the crowd around me by altering how I talked, or the way I was standing. It’s akin to telling someone, “I know you’ve seen Black people do bad things before, but don’t worry, I’m one of the good ones.”
I never did this so easily, so instinctively, before moving to this part of California. But code-switching became part of my daily routine during my early days here, while taking BART from Oakland to San Francisco. I noticed how often Black people were arrested or at least escorted off of BART trains, usually leaving me as the lone Black passenger for the rest of my early-morning rides into the city. The whole time, I could feel myself trying to smile when locking eyes with a white person. I often felt I was overthinking these moments, until I made more Black friends in the region and we commiserated over these shared experiences.
It makes me wonder: Is it possible to be Black in the Bay Area without code-switching?
If the past few months have taught us anything in 2020, it’s that the answer is no. Just last week, a Black man in Discovery Bay was confronted by a white neighbor who asked him, “Why don’t you act like a white person in a white neighborhood?” The incident was caught on the security footage and on cell phone video.
What stuck with me was how calm the Black man in the video, Gerritt Jones, was being toward the woman on his property. His tone was familiar. I once used it while talking to a police officer who pulled me over for driving “too slow” in Berkeley. I’ve seen Black friends talk to employees this way at Starbucks, knowing it isn’t uncommon for these places to call the cops on Black people for suspected loitering. It’s the voice of reason while talking with an unreasonable person.
As Black people, we have to actively take on the role of pre-emptively de-escalating situations. Part of the reason is because we’re aware of how few of us there are in this region, and our extended interactions with white people, good or bad, might be the only conversations they have with a Black person for days, weeks or months at a time. It’s better to be cool, calm and collected than to reciprocate their anger.
By putting on this choreographed social performance, we’re stifling who we are as people, which is the foundation of code-switching.
Much of America is pushing for racial progress, and in the Bay Area, these efforts include local businesses trying to hire and promote Black people. It would be nice if the Black folks in the next wave in these positions don’t have to code-switch while at work.
This might mean a Black person using their full first name, even if it’s one that happens to be unusual to white people, instead of a shortened version or nickname. Or feeling like they don’t have to dress exactly like their white co-workers, or refrain from commenting on a race-based issue within their office because they don’t want to risk appearing “angry.”
It’s a hope I shared with my parents during a recent call as they walked me through Thanksgiving dinner recipes, including my mom’s macaroni and cheese and a banana pudding.
There’s a lot I have to be thankful for this year, despite how trying 2020 has been for all of us. And this reflection on blessings has also spotlighted the things I’m hopeful for, including how the idea of code-switching could one day be a thing of the past. All it would take is for the Bay Area’s non-Black populace to do one simple thing: Allow Black people to act like ourselves in your presence.
https://www.sfchronicle.com/bayarea...he-Bay-Area-means-code-switching-15754109.php
After that it's just a hate- fear problem.
