Helping and harming: two stories of being white and "an ally"

I want to share two stories of times I was white and had a chance to "do something." The first time I did it quite badly, the second time it was much better.

I'm sharing this because if you're white and you have any thoughts of being an "ally," it's important to imagine some scenarios and plan them out in your head. It's really easy to screw it up, and it's inevitable that you will screw it up if you have delusions of saviorism in your head (which I did the first time for sure).

It's also a good idea to start talking to your kids about this, if you have white kids (I promise you, people who have kids who are not white are absolutely having conversations that start with "here's what you have to do if/when...").

Ok. So here's the bad example. This is what NOT to do:

I was at a small vigil/protest for Philando Castile and a couple of white guys came up to the crowd and started looking mean and talking at us. I think they were saying "All lives matter."

I turned around to face them and started yelling at them "Black lives matter! Black lives matter!"

This was stupid and dangerous. Do not do this. There were Black people at this event, and even if there hadn't been, my behavior escalated the tension. Fortunately, nothing happened, but it could have, and if it had I almost certainly wouldn't have been the victim of it. I let my ego and my anger get in the way of my good judgement.

And here's the better example:

I was in line at airport security, on my way home after a conference. I happened to be next to a woman I'd just met at the conference, so we made small talk about whatever. She was wearing a hijab and was, of course, pulled aside for extra screening. And the way they did it, they pulled her out and made her stand in the middle of this space and just wait and wait while everyone else went around her and saw her just standing there.

Whether or not it was designed to belittle and frighten her, it definitely isolated her in the middle of a crowd, which would both belittle and frighten me. So, I stood with her. I asked her quietly if that would be ok, and she said yes.

That is important. I asked her. I did not talk to or even look at the security guards. I certainly didn't yell at them. I just stood with her, as casually as I could manage.

I planned in my head that if security asked me what I was doing, I'd just pretend to be a ditz and say "Oh, I thought you wanted me to stand here! Haha oops!"

I figured, what the hell. I actually am terrible at following directions when I'm nervous so people like TSA agents often think I'm a ditz, so this plan played to my strengths. This is also a good idea: work with the profile they likely already have of you. This is where white ladies shine -- we can smile and say oops and very often get away with it. So anyway, they made her wait and wait so we were both awkwardly standing there (I find that a lot of good help involves awkwardly standing there) and finally she said, "Go on through." And I said "are you sure?" And she said, "Yes, I need you to tell them to hold the plane if I don't get through security." And you know, that's not something I would have EVER thought of on my own, and that's another reason that you must always follow the lead of the person you're trying to help (that this even needs to be said is ridiculous, isn't it?). So, that's what I did. By then, I'd seen TSA agents see me with her, so I just casually got back in line and went through security, and then sat where I could still kind of see what was going on at security (it was a small airport). And sure enough they let her through, eventually. Which they probably would have done anyway, but at least this way she had someone waiting for her on the other side. Again, the point is not to overturn entrenched systems of injustice in one moment. The point is to help another human being in whatever way is actually helpful to them in that moment.

Takeaways

White people are taught that we are the center of the world. Think about how many times you've seen a movie or TV show or even read a book where the Black character(s) circle around the white character(s) like they are actual saviors (The Help, I'm looking at you). Our egos are big and unwieldy and it's obnoxious and dangerous. When we start to become the tiniest bit aware that yes, racism is a thing, we get this back-of-the-brain tickle that says maybe we'll be the ones to fix it. So, go over in your head how you'll stand with someone, and I mean that literally. Plan how you'll keep your wits about you. Read about how white people can de-escalate just by being present. When you're out in public, even if you're not at a protest, look around. Be aware of when security guards or cops are in the area. You don't have to be terrified of them (that's also not helpful), but awareness is valuable. Also, do watch TV shows and movies where Black people and other people of color aren't just moons orbiting the planet of white people. (This is basically the best assignment you'll ever get -- these lists are great.)

I'm a mom and a teacher and I'm STILL not prepared for home instruction

Given my supposed expertise in the area of education, I thought I might write some words of reassurance and gentle advice for the days and weeks ahead.

Allow me to say up front that nobody in my family is currently facing eviction, hunger, job loss or (knock wood) ill health in the face of this virus and global shut down. These very real situations for many people, and in my opinion are far more important than a couple of weeks of school.

This is not to diminish the value of education, but to remind us all that sometimes, formal schooling is just one more thing. Sometimes it's one more thing too many.

So that's the first thing: I genuinely believe that, in terms of their formal education, every child and teenager will survive a few months of interruption. I don't in any way mean to minimize the strain of disruption, but this disruption includes their social lives, their routines, AND the actual content they learn in school. The content is the piece that, in the short term, matters the least. The strain of social lives and routine, which includes sports, clubs, just hanging out, etc, is a much more immediate issue.

What this means is that, as an educator, my advice is this: do as much or as little home instruction as makes sense for your specific kid(s) in your specific situation. If this month of home instruction turns into 2, 3, or 4 months, then we'll be in a different boat (in more ways than one), but for now, give yourself and your kid(s) permission to not be good at this.

Personally, I find this equal parts hilarious and
adorable. I'm sure it will be great for some
families. I think we might make it to the
first yellow bar before it all goes to hell.

Then, assuming you do make at least an attempt at this online learning thing, here are a couple of tips that might help ease everyone's burden:


1. Remember that learning (at least the schooling kind) cannot happen when a brain is otherwise occupied with stress, strain, anxiety, or fear.

The higher the level of stress, the less new information the brain can take in. Take breaks, turn it off, walk away. There's no need to strain your relationship or yourselves because neither of you is prepared to teach or learn algebra in your living room while the world is on lockdown because of a global pandemic.


2. Remember that this has never happened before, so nobody actually knows what to do. 

This goes for state governments, local administrators, individual teachers, you, and your kid(s).

There will almost certainly be some districts or teachers that send home instructions that are overburdensome, overly vague, unwise, or flat-out wrong. There will almost certainly be some parents and kids who make mistakes even when the instructions from the teachers are very clear. It's ok. We're in this together.


3. Give yourself permission to trust your kid(s).

People are not always good at saying what they need, but they are pretty good at acting out if they aren't getting what they need. So if you have a kid who resists working on a particular lesson or even logging on at all, trust them that there's a reason and try to find out what it is.

This doesn't mean the 8-year-old gets to dictate what they will and won't do. It just means that even 8-year-olds (or 16-year-olds, or college students suddenly home) have reasons for doing what they do, and those reasons aren't laziness or naughtiness. Really. Even when it really, really, really seems like those are the reasons. Try to find out what the real reasons are and go from there.



Again, this is all meant as reassurance, and I realize it speaks mainly to people who even have the option of thinking they are going to try homeschooling. As we get our sea legs in this new reality, I hope we all find ways to help those who need much more than some reassuring words.

xoxo, Lex

Saturday, March 14

E and I took the dogs for a walk at about 5pm today. Downtown Clinton seemed the way it usually does--quite a few people on the terrace by the art museum, lots of people walking dogs, and the coffeeshop about half full.

Usually by 5, it's a fairly quiet town, especially at this time of year when it's still too cold for outdoor seating. So it's hard to say, but my sense was that things might have been a little slower than usual, but not by much.

Photo from
https://anamericanhistorianinrome.wordpress.com/

I couldn't help but wonder if it will be the same story by this time next week. A friend of mine was awarded a Fulbright scholarship to teach and do research in Italy, and had started a blog to let everyone know how it was going and how she was doing. You can read it here: https://anamericanhistorianinrome.wordpress.com/.

There are only a few posts, and if you read it from bottom (the earliest ones) to top, you can see just how quickly she went from telling the story of being in Italy to reassuring everyone that things were fine to saying something very different. She is now home and in self-quarantine for 14 days, which has to be just heartbreaking for her. I can't imagine.

If you have any friends who are unwilling or unable to imagine the possible impact of this virus, I highly recommend that you send them to her blog.

I suspect that this is exactly where we'll be in a week or two, though I hope I'm wrong.

For our part, E's school play is being delayed and I'm almost certain her ballet recital will be cancelled or delayed. And if it isn't canceled, she won't be in it (it's supposed to happen on March 30). She will, of course, be fine, but it makes me think about the actors who were just about to get their shot at Broadway and the athletes who were just about to have their last college season. Who knows how their lives will change because of this?

She is also out of school for two weeks (so far) and has asked us to put a desk in her room so that her dad is forced to let her work alone for at least part of the day. 😝Having been essentially home sick with Lyme for the last three years, I'm pretty sure he's mainly delighted that we're all going to be here. MY number of co-workers may have just shrunk from hundreds to four (E, G, and the two dogs), but HIS has just increased by two!

So, that's it for today. I might move this blog to a different site, as this one doesn't seem to have all the features it used to (I used to blog on this page, but it's been 8 years!). I'll let you know if I do.

For now, I leave you with this amazing video of people in Italy, singing on their balconies:



xoxo, Lex

My New Digs

It's Saturday morning, so in theory I shouldn't be working right now, but honestly it's a beautiful day and my home office has three windows... which is three more than my actual work office has. (Not complaining--I'm thrilled to have a real office at work! Still, this is nice.)

I'll go outside later, but for now, I'm working on trying to get my classes set up for online instruction, and that's making me feel better than doing nothing.

Actually... if I'm being honest, right now what I'm doing is procrastinating grading the stack of papers I was supposed to grade last week. Sigh... with or without a global pandemic, there will always be papers to grade.

Anyway, I like my desk. My lamp is a gold fox. Or squirrel. I'm not entirely sure. Doesn't matter. There's also a little porcelain pig with wings.  I don't know why I love it so much, but I do. When pigs fly, indeed.

I'm feeling incredibly lucky that I have this space. It's cheerful, and I can actually get work done while I'm here. And since my work is helping my students get through this mess of a semester, that feels good.

More later, I've procrastinated long enough. Those papers aren't going to grade themselves. Even when pigs fly...

xoxo, Lex