Christians are “Christ-followers.” So who was Christ? Jesus the Christ was a dark skinned, homeless, unemployed rabble-rouser, a “drain on society.” He was kicked out of multiple towns for causing too much trouble. He was known for listening to, talking with, and healing professional beggars. He was good friends with prostitutes and thieves, who surely could have made their own “better life choices.” His mom was a unwed pregnant teen.

Jesus was also a Jew – a member of separate nation of God apart from the surrounding Roman culture. He preached about changing, reviving, and spreading this nation/kingdom of God, without saying a word about the Romans’ sexual practices or infanticide, which were both clearly against Jewish law. He called believers to greater friendship and service of God, to spread the Gospel, and to love radically without judgement – especially those whose lives had taken a rough turn. This is what Jesus the Christ promised we would be judged by:

“And all the nations will be gathered before Him, and He will separate them from one another, as the shepherd separates the sheep from the goats; He will put the sheep on His right, and the goats on His left. 
Then the King will say to those on His right, ‘Come, you who are blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry, and you gave Me something to eat; I was thirsty, and you gave Me drink; I was a stranger, and you invited Me in; naked, and you clothed Me; I was sick, and you visited Me; I was in prison, and you came to Me.’ 
… ‘Truly I say to you, to the extent that you did it to one of these brothers of Mine, even the least of them, you did it to Me.’” (Mt 25:31-46) There’s some pretty clear separation there – and even someone who’s not a Christian has a general concept of “hell” as not somewhere you don’t particularly want to end up.

His parable of the rich man and Lazarus makes it clear that even just ignoring the least of these is damning (Luke 6:19-25). Lord, give us the courage to reach out in love, and judge us justly on our corporeal works of mercy. Do not spit us out for being lukewarm! Teach us to love your children from conception to natural death, and especially in all the times in between that were so close to your heart.

Reblogged from Convos of Color:

Critical race theory (CRT) provides the academic underpinnings of many conversations about race. Though there are quite a number of different trains of thought in CRT, there are a few basic principles which most adherents would agree on:

1. Race is essentially a historical and cultural construct, a product of social thought and relations. That is to say, race is not biologically or genetically based.
2. Racism is ordinary, not aberrational.
3. “Whiteness” is an economically/socially valuable commodity, resulting in the existence of “white privilege.”
4. The “Interest covergence principle”: Whites will tolerate/support the advancement of the racially underrepresented particularly when it promotes their own self-interest.

[Note: CRT is a super far-reaching lens for looking at American society, culture, and history, so I won’t go into any more of that now. Look it up for sure!]

The concept of “white public space” flows from CRT fairly easily. Helen Page and R. Brooke Thomas define it this way:

“White public space is comprised of all the places where racism is reproduced by the professional class. That space may entail particular or generalized locations, sites, patterns, configurations, tactics, or devices that routinely, discursively, and sometimes coercively privilege Euro-Americans over nonwhites. Its material resources are formindable institutions that include the territories they claim or the markets they control. Perhaps most formidable are the symbolic resources available to the … establishment that [people of color] do not normally share (i.e. the power to decide; to enforce; to register or certify; to model; to publish; and to individualize rather than examine the social order.”

White public space therefore is directly related to white privilege, the interest convergence principle,  and the cultural-ness of race.

That’s kind of a lot, so my working definition going into the weekend in Chicago was more along the lines of:  “A specific space in which white/majority privileges, ways of thinking, and customs systematically dominate to the exclusion of people of color.” I wasn’t sure quite how accurate that was, or what it looked like, but it was a start. 

Uffda. Ok. So. Where actually is white public space?

It was clear to me after watching both the White Sox at US Cellular Field and the Cubs at Wrigley Field that both of those locations were white public space, though for different reasons.  There’s a full discussion of how/why this is in the DeLorne/Singer article at the bottom of the post, but here’s what I noticed: US Cellular was strongly segregated from the surrounding community, surrounded by concrete parking lots and was a generic destination for baseball rather than a place to encounter people and interact. There was a fairly diverse crowd, but the atmosphere felt stale, austere, and forced rather than integrated and welcoming and genuine. Wrigley Field had little to no diversity in the patrons (though much more in the service workers). It was integrated into the surrounding neighborhood, however. This neighborhood happened to be historically white, so there were naturally a lot of white patrons, right?

The last part of this hit me hard: Wrigley felt integrated with the community and loud and tightly packed and positively energetic and even had some players of color on the field for the Cubs. All these emotions and intensity I associate strongly with my interactions with communities of color rather than with white communities, so my instinctive reaction was, “Everyone is welcome here, they just don’t happen to be present because this isn’t their area of town.

….  Ooooohh. That’s what white public space means.”

As I tried to apply this realization, my train of thought went like this:

If historically white areas also count as white public space, since they are dominated by whites and therefore white rules/systems… and if lower quality and lower status spaces primarily used by people of color (like public transportation) are still bound by historical discrimination and therefore white rules… and if “normal” integrated public space follows white rules by default…

What’s left?

My gut response was strongly negative – how can this be accurate/even possible?? But, really honestly looking at America today, how can it not be?

————

Surprise! I’m standing on the shoulders of giants. References:

“The Interest Convergence principle and the Integration of Major League Baseball” – Joshua DeLorne and John N. Singer, Journal of Black Studies July 2010.

Critical Race Theory: An Introduction – Richard Delgado and Jean Stefancic.

“White Public Space and the Construction of White Privilege in U. S. Health Care: Fresh Concepts and a New Model of Analysis” – Helan Page and R. Brooke Thomas, Medical Anthropology Quarterly March 1994.

“A Tale of Two Stadiums: Comparing the Economic Impact of Chicago’s Wrigley Field and U.S. Cellular Field” – Victor Matheson, Robert Baade, and Mimi Nikolova.

We are persons classified as white, who oppose racism and the system of white supremacy. As such, we are committed to speaking out and challenging racial injustice, mistreatment and institutional inequity, as well as interpersonal racism whenever and wherever it exists. We are also committed to challenging our own biases, inculcated by a society that has trained us all, to one degree or another, to internalize notions of our own superiority.

As antiracist allies, we seek to work with people of color to create real multiracial democracy. We do not aspire to lead the struggle for racial justice and equity, but rather, to follow the lead of persons and communities of color, and to work in solidarity with them, as a way to obtain this goal. We do not engage in the antiracist struggle on behalf of people of color, so as to “save” them, or as an act of charity. We oppose and seek to eradicate white supremacy because it is an unjust system, and we believe in the moral obligation of all persons to resist injustice. Likewise, we believe not only that a system of white supremacy damages people of color, but also that it compromises our humanity, weakens the democratic bonds of a healthy society, and ultimately poses great risks to us all. Because we believe white supremacy to be a contributing force to war, resource exploitation, and economic injustice, our desire to eradicate the mindset and system of white domination is fundamentally a matter of collective preservation. Though persons of color are the direct targets of this system, we believe that whites are the collateral damage, and so for our own sake as well, we strive for a new way of living.

To do this with integrity, we believe it might prove helpful to operate with a code of ethics in mind, so as to remain as accountable as possible to persons of color, and each other, as we go about the business of challenging white supremacy. We know from experience how easy it can be to act with the best of intentions, and yet ultimately do harm to the antiracist struggle, by choosing tactics or methods that reinforce privilege and inequity rather than diminish them, or by acting within the confines of an echo chamber of other antiracist white allies, while failing to ground our efforts in structures of accountability led by people of color.

In recent years, the number of white folks engaged in one form or another of public antiracist work, or work around the subject of white privilege (as scholars, writers, activists, and educators), has proliferated. Likewise, schools, non-profit organizations, and even some corporations have begun to look at matters of racism and white privilege within their institutions. As this work, at many different levels, expands, it is perhaps more necessary than ever that whites who are working to be strong antiracist allies take a good look in the mirror, analyze and critique what we do as well as how we do it, and ask: How can we, as antiracist white allies, operate ethically and responsibly as we go about the business of helping to dismantle white supremacy?

To this end, we propose the following code of ethics for antiracist white allies. Though it is hardly an exclusive or exhaustive list, we believe it is a start to a more responsible and responsive antiracist practice for white persons who wish to act in solidarity with people of color in the battle against racism. The code should not be viewed as a fixed or final document, let alone as a checklist or “rulebook” for responsible antiracists. It is merely a guidepost. We hope that it will lead to productive reflection, discussion, and even healthy debate among those who are engaged in antiracist struggle.

Code of Ethics for Anti-Racist White Allies

1. Acknowledge our racial privilege.

Self-reflection matters. Although there are many ways in which whites can be marginalized in this society (on the basis of gender, sex, sexuality, class, religion, disability, etc), this truth does not eradicate our racial advantage, relative to people of color. We can be oppressed in these other categories and still benefit from privileges extended to whites, as whites. Acknowledging racial privilege doesn’t mean that we didn’t work hard, or that there weren’t barriers we had to overcome; it simply means that our racial identity helped us along the way. Indeed, racial privilege will even work in our favor as we speak out against racism. We will often be taken more seriously in this work, precisely because we are white, and we should be clear on that point.

2. Develop interpersonal connections and structures to help maintain antiracist accountability.

Accountability matters. When we engage in antiracist efforts, be they public or private, we should remember that it is persons of color most affected by racism, and thus, they have the most to gain or lose as a result of how such work is done. With this in mind, we believe it is important to seek and obtain regular and ongoing feedback from people of color in our lives (friends and/or colleagues), as a way to better ground our efforts in structures of accountability. Although this kind of accountability may play out differently, depending on our specific job/position, one general principle is that we should be in regular and ongoing contact with persons in the communities that are most impacted by racism and white supremacy—namely, people of color.

3. Be prepared to alter our methods and practices, when and if persons of color implore us to do so.

Responsive listening matters. It’s not enough to be in contact with people of color as we go about our work. We also need to be prepared to change what we’re doing, if and when people of color suggest there may be problems, practically or ethically, with our existing methods of challenging racism. Although accountability does not require that we agree with and respond affirmatively to every critique offered, if people of color are telling us over and again that something is wrong with our current practices, accountability requires that we take it seriously and correct the practice. And all such critiques should be seen as opportunities for personal reflection and growth.

4. If we speak out about white privilege, racism, and/or white supremacy, whether in a public forum or in private discussions with friends, family or colleagues, we should acknowledge that people of color have been talking about these subjects for a long time, and yet, have been routinely ignored in the process.

Giving credit matters. Because many white people have tuned out or written off people of color, when a white person speaks about social and racial injustice it’s like a huge “a ha” moment happens, and that white person oftentimes is put on a pedestal. We should make sure people know that whatever wisdom we possess on the matter is only partially our own: it is also the collective wisdom of people of color, shared with us directly or indirectly. Likewise, beyond merely noting the general contribution of people of color to our own wisdom around matters of race, we should make the effort to specify those persons/groups of color from whom we’ve learned. Encourage others to dig deeper into the subject matter by seeking out and reading/listening to the words/work of those persons of color, so as to further their own knowledge base.

5. Share access and resources with persons of color whenever possible.

Networking matters. As whites, we often enjoy access to various professional connections, resources, or networks, from which persons of color are typically excluded. The ability to act as a “gatekeeper” comes with the territory of privilege. The only question is, will we help open the gates wider, or keep them closed? As allies, we should strive to share those connections and resources with persons of color whenever possible. So, for instance, we may have inroads for institutional funding or grant monies that could be obtained for people of color-led community organizations. We may have connections in media, educational institutions, or even the corporate world, which if shared with persons of color could provide opportunities for those persons of color to gain a platform for their own racial justice efforts.

6. If you get paid to speak out about white privilege, racism, and/or white supremacy, or in some capacity make your living from challenging racism, donate a portion of your income to organizations led principally by people of color.

Giving back matters. Although it is important to speak out about racism, and to do other types of antiracism work (organizing, legal work, teaching, etc.), and necessary for people to be paid for the hard work they do, whites who do so still have to admit that we are able to reap at least some of the financial rewards we receive because of racism and white privilege. Because so much of our own understanding of race and racism comes from the collective wisdom of people of color, from whom we have learned (especially at the grass-roots level), it is only proper that we should give back to those who have made our own “success” possible. Although there is no way to ascertain the real value of the shared and collective wisdom of people of color on the understanding that white allies have about racism, it seems fair to suggest that at least 10 percent of our honorariums, royalties, salaries, or other forms of income, should be shared with people-of color-led organizations with a commitment to racial and social justice. It would be especially helpful if at least some of that money goes to the kinds of locally based organizations that have a hard time getting funding from traditional sources.

The premise of this code is simple: White people have a moral and practical obligation to challenge racism in a responsible and responsive manner. To this end, we believe that the principles of self-reflection, accountability, responsive listening, and resource sharing are important starting points for whites who are engaged in any kind of efforts to eradicate racism and white supremacy. We hope that this code, devised merely as a set of suggestions and guideposts for white allies, will prompt constructive dialogue and discussion regarding how white allyship can best be developed and deployed for the purpose of building true multiracial democracy.

Please join the conversation and offer up your thoughts as to how antiracist white allies can become stronger in the fight to eradicate white supremacy.

A note about how this code was created:
The initial code was created and then sent out to a multi-racial group of activists, organizers, educators, artists, and everyday people who care deeply about social and racial justice. Input was given and the authors took key insights and common themes and incorporated them into the editing process. We thank everyone who took the time out to bring their wisdom and expertise to the table for this accountability work.

Reblogged from White Bean Chili:

The combination of Toni Morrison’s writing and my white skin made me feel a little like I was spying on Frank and his family in Morrison’s new novel, Home.

And no matter how much I “know,” as a white male I’ll never possess the ability to experience. Because when reading Home the feelings I have are very strongly hate, remorse, guilt, and then a kind of complete and utter helplessness, all directed toward the racism inherent in the story and in the world that Morrison has always given us.

Read more… 667 more words

Anyway, it reminded me of a different, rather memorable trip with a White friend earlier in the semester, just after having started to glimpse the implications of race in America. I had been trying to explain why I was suddenly bringing race into every conversation I had with her. I had taken her to see a student-run production about various instances and perceptions of racism on campus. I had even begged her to read some of the books and articles that had been so influential for me. She was starting to see a corner of the picture, but it didn’t mean much to her yet, so I had let it drop and we were talking about neon platform heels instead.

Riding with us from campus were a few students and campus workers. That was the rather unremarkable part. When we got to the mall, the group that was waiting for the bus was three times as big and just as young, but the whole group was Black. Which is also unremarkable both in this city and in America as a whole. The interesting thing was that when I pointed that fact out to her, I could see the gears in her mind working as she pieced together implications. Our shoe shopping took a five minute detour to try to dissect the potential impacts of race on wealth accumulation and job availability – which of course leads into all kinds of things like, say, car ownership, how wealth is shown off, educational opportunities, and parental supervision past grade school. Uffda. Talking to her reinforced how little I actually know – I hadn’t followed some of these questions down their respective rabbit holes quite yet, and I wanted to pause the conversation to go do more research on things like red-lining.

I ended up spending the entire rest of the trip looking for other snapshot stories of racism’s history – like the race/ethnicity of all the kiosk employees (not White), the hair products sold in the two or three mall salons (not for all hair types), the behavior of rich White women and their daughters when walking too close to young Black men or Latinos (obvious avoidance), and the people in advertisement for a store that mostly catered to young women of color (all very pale if not actually White) vs. those used in a lingerie shop (very “exotic” looking women with a few all-American blondes) vs. those used in a more expensive casual clothing store (happily multi-racial and well dressed).

It was an intimidating experience. One of these days, I’m going to force myself to keep my eyes wide open all day long, and keep a running list of everything I see that could possibly be linked to race in America. I need to train myself not to switch in and out of “anti-racism” mode – the “all-encompassing-ness” of this national narrative is readily apparent to everyong else, why shouldn’t it be to a White college student? The visual, experiential aspect had a stronger impact than I anticpated. Whether race should be talked about around the lunch table or while out in the world is definitely something worth thinking about if I want to communicate this narrative effectively. I will also be riding the bus more next semester. And learning how to write shorter posts …

Reblogged from Florence Ringo:

O’Hare – moving sidewalk (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Imagine a moving sidewalk. Like at an airport – lots of people on it, mostly ignoring each other and everyone else, lots of people off it. Some people on the moving sidewalk are rushing and knocking over old ladies’ bags with an oversized carry-on. A young family is just standing there, taking a break, and the occasional kid is running the opposite direction just because they can. Some people off the sidewalk are meandering; some are standing, waiting in line or talking on their cell phones. Some are fed up with the overcrowding on the stupid moving sidewalk and have decided just to book it as best they can on their own, kids and roller bags in tow. Lots is going on everywhere at every imaginable speed.

Life in America is kind of like that. The thing is, the only people on that super convenient moving sidewalk are white, and everyone else – America’s people of color – is moving as fast as they can without the very ground they walk on helping them out. Some members of the white community are working the natural advantage that comes with light skinned, European heritage and running along the moving sidewalk – actively reinforcing the divide through their blatant racism. A large group of white people are standing still – not really doing anything to counter their movement, but also not compounding it. These people are “not racist.” Everyone else, the people who don’t have access to the moving sidewalk of white privilege, are booking it as fast as they can to keep up … that is, now that most of the biggest institutionalized barriers keeping them from even joining the race forward have been removed.

Even a casual observer can see that those who have just started really moving forward are still far behind those whose whole lives (and those of their parents and grandparents) have been firmly settled on the moving sidewalk. It doesn’t take long to amass an incredibly long list of examples of the divide. [If you need help getting started, check out the Resouces tab up top.] Where do attempts at equalizing fall? Mostly, they fall on white people who have realized that the whole messy system exists, have turned around and seen those sprinting to catch up, and have started running in the other direction. It’s a slow moving, difficult, frustrating effort – but that’s pretty much the basics of being anti-racist: you need to see the narrative, in its all-encompassing-ness, realize that it needs to be changed, and then start working hard in all kinds of small and large ways to change it. It’s an either-or situation, really: either you buy into moving forward on the white privilege/advantage sidewalk, or you find it disturbing and detrimental to society as a whole and you don’t. As minute-by-minute as the decision may be, there are no other options.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for efficiency and getting where we need to go when we need to get there. Don’t miss your next flight for the sake of an elaborate metaphor. And don’t try to stretch the metaphor farther than it will go – it is just a metaphor after all, and there are other sideways, vertical, and foggy aspects of white privilege as well. Do, however, be conscious of the hugely important, unmarked aspects of racism, like its immense historical weight. Do wonder whether it is worth getting ahead so much faster as the white community if we don’t all get there together. Do question whether it is morally acceptable or even realistic to ignore the presence of white privilege.

I have no illusions as to where I am in this picture. I’ve just recently turned around and started moving in a different direction, but I have a hard time keeping the whole system in focus, rather than putting my blinders back on and ignoring the impervious nature of race in America. I’m still learning how to even walk in the other direction – and that’s the point of this blog effort, is to take as many people as I can with me as I learn to jog and then to sprint.

So how did I get here? Why I am I writing this? What is “this” exactly? I’m not entirely sure. I grew up in a middle-upper class, White, moderately liberal family. I remember knowing what racism looked like by early grade school, after spending the first seven years of my life south of the Mason-Dixon line: my dad worked for a community health center that mostly served and was staffed by people of color in southern Alabama and brought home stories on occasion. I remember understanding that saying that a kind action was “mighty White of you” was fundamentally wrong, though not necessarily knowing why. Once I moved to Minnesota, my understanding didn’t decrease, but also didn’t deepen. Upon heading to Notre Dame for college, I made friends on both sides of “the color line,” so when certain racist incidents were publicized in the spring of 2012, I heard about them and was immediately involved in conversations about their implications for people of color, Whites, and the entire ND community. When I read Tim Wise’s “White Like Me,” narratives that I had heard about American history, Hurricane Katrina, the socio-economic divide, my family’s success, diversity, the Civil Rights Movement, the differences between Billy Graham, Pro-Lifers, and southern Black churches, affirmative action, people of color being “overly sensitive,” and so many other things suddenly lined up into a single cohesive narrative about racism in America, White privilege, discrimination, power structures, and ignorant colorblindness. Uffda.

Since then, I’ve turned into a kind of sponge for all things related to race, activism in general, and anti-racism in particular. This blog is an outgrowth of me trying to continue fitting together different pieces of this broader narrative in a way that is (maybe? hopefully?) vaguely helpful to other people thinking about the same things. Worst-case scenario: this becomes a collection of my various ramblings on anything and everything. Best-case scenario: this becomes resource for dialogue and conversation on race and what it looks like to become anti-racist, both on campus at ND and in the broader interwebs.

I don’t have all the answers. I barely have any, actually, and the vast majority of those are other people’s. I have an incredibly long list of questions, and a growing understanding of just how little I know.