View Static Version
Loading

The other Reputation A look into the Black experience at Redwood

People across Marin like to paint Redwood as an academically driven, athletically exceeding and a passionately overachieving environment. However, there’s another notoreity that often goes overlooked, yet some at Redwood know it all too well.

“Redwood has a [racist] reputation for a reason. It’s not a stereotype. It’s a history. That’s why that question of, ‘Why do you still go to Redwood?’ [is hard to answer]. And I honestly don’t know why,” Nanise Raga, a senior who identifies as Black Pacific Islander, said. “Sometimes I’m like, ‘I should have just gone [to Tam].’”

Raga is one of the few Black students left in the senior class of 2022. The African-American population within the senior class is nearly half of what they once were as freshmen. Once comprising 1.5 percent of the entire school in the 2018-2019 academic year, African-American students now only make up about 1.09 percent of the student population. “African-American” may exclude students who identify as Black under another ethnicity, like how Raga identifies as Black Pacific Islander, so the number of students that have left Redwood may be, in actuality, greater than the superficial statistics can encompass.

So that begs the question: what about Redwood, its environment, bias and complacency, has made Black students feel unwelcome to the point of transferring?

(Photo by Shyla Lensing)

If one starts at surface level by rewinding three years back, a former classmate of Raga’s, Sophia Totterman, began creating widespread videos targeting historically marginalized groups. According to Raga, they were a mix of Saturday Night Live and Fox News commentary with intent to be comedic, while presenting racist, antisemetic and Islamaphobic ideas. Totterman’s videos, published on her YouTube page, @LtCorbis, quickly went viral, prompting controversial appearances on BuzzFeed and other popular news outlets. Even without their national recognition, the videos made Raga and other students of color feel unsafe.

“The comments that [Totterman] would make about Black and Jewish people were very offensive and hit close to home. A lot of [Black] students were very uncomfortable, ” Raga said.

However, given the liberties that social media platforms like YouTube grant their creators, there was little room for the Redwood administration to get involved. Totterman continuing to upload extremist videos nursed an unsettling atmosphere on campus, prompting many of the Black kids Raga knew to leave for Tamalpais High School (Tam) in Mill Valley or elsewhere. In fact, as Redwood’s class of 2022 African-American population has dropped from nine to five students, since 2018-2019, Tam has gained five.

Senior Yur Majesty Starbird is also Black, and similar to Raga, felt targeted by Totterman’s comments. Despite this, Starbird has found his place at Redwood, having spent the last four years on the football team.

“I think almost every minority student felt the same way,” Starbird said. “[My family did not] seriously talk about leaving, but there was a thought in my head. If I weren’t playing sports at Redwood, I would be at Tam.”

(Photo by Avery Aguero)

Raga feels that this urge to transfer among Redwood’s Black student population was a result of more than just the triggering videos. Rather, it was a domino effect, tumbling from a collection of microaggressions, uncomfortable side looks in the halls and consistent racist comments.

“There would be little instances [of racism], and then [Totterman] really hit the target,” Raga said. “[Some] of the Black students realized how much of a mistake they made by going to Redwood. And then they said, ‘Okay, it’s time to go. It’s time to retreat.’”

Raga’s own personal experience at Redwood, and in Marin, illustrates these little instances. She’s found herself the victim of multiple racially motivated attacks in the past; ones that have made her question her presence in this community and her decision to stay at Redwood.

“[Prior to the videos,] I had already had instances with another student who was being really aggressive, taking my stuff, calling me the N-word,” Raga said. “I resent the Redwood administration to this day because they didn’t know how to handle it. They told me to make a map of the school and find another way to get to my classes without seeing this person. It felt very much like an avoidance strategy, and that’s not going to do anything.”

(Photo by Sterling Lazarus)

Raga’s experience is not an anomaly among Black students. Junior Isabella Orlean is a multiracial Black student and has endured stereotypes and microaggressions as well. During her freshman year, Orlean was asked if she sold drugs solely based on her skin color. Some also assume she is unkind because of her features, a harmful stereotype that influences her to actively talk softer so that people do not feel threatened with her presence. Because of this, as well as several other factors, Orlean has considered transferring too.

“I was going to transfer out sophomore year, but then COVID-19 happened. I wanted to transfer because it’s weird to have certain conversations with people [at Redwood] and there are certain things you can’t express because people won’t understand it,” Orlean said. “It would just be nice to be around people that can relate to you.”

Similar to Orlean, junior Chase Cordova has had to cope with microaggressions and elements of assimilation. With both white and Black parents, Cordova carries the weight of a mixed racial identity.

“When I came to Redwood, [racism] was the same as it was at [my middle school], but a little more amplified,” Cordova said. “People [would tell me] ‘Oh, you can 30 percent say the N-word’ because I’m 30 percent Black.”

Though Cordova never considered transferring, Redwood’s environment made her feel insecure in her own skin at the beginning of freshman year.

“My self-confidence completely plummeted. I know I love myself now, but [back] then, I just wanted to dye my hair blonde and straighten it. I didn’t want to draw any attention to myself; I wanted to fit in as much as possible because people made it so obvious that I [was different],” Cordova said. “My parents were so sad, especially my mom. She tried to hide the straightener from me because I would straighten my hair so much. She would say, ‘Don’t get heat damage, your hair is so pretty,’ and I would respond ‘No, I hate my curls.’”

Over the COVID-19 lockdowns though, Cordova had thoughtful conversations with her mom and began to love herself again for who she was, and not for how she felt the Redwood community wanted her to be.

(Photo by Sterling Lazarus)

“It’s so easy to feel self-conscious and insecure when you look different from everyone else, when everyone’s skinny, white, blonde and rich,” Cordova said. “But, you cannot take what other people say seriously. You’re beautiful."

(Photo by Shyla Lensing)

While Cordova spoke to the microaggressions, Orlean voiced not feeling comfortable around her peers and Raga explained the absence of action by the administration, there is not one reason why Black students may still feel unsafe in the white-lined halls of Redwood. And similarly, there is not one way to end this unwelcome atmosphere.

Cordova believes that more widespread education and antiracism seminars would help, suggesting that addressing ignorance could change the school’s environment. Raga, on the other hand, emphasized that racism should not be learned from a distance, as it sometimes is in Redwood; instead, it should be an active dismantling of ideas along with interactions with people of color.

“Growing up in Marin, a white, elitist, wealthy, so-called liberal area, a lot of people intellectualize racism. They read it from the newspaper or watch the news, but they lack perspective on a human level. People would rather listen to a podcast than talk to someone who has experience,” Raga said. “We want white allies. But do white allies really want to go that far, to dive deep, break down their character and what they know to combat racism?”

(Photo by Shyla Lensing)

LaSandra White, former Redwood assistant principal and current principal of Archie Williams, grew up in Marin herself and knows what it means to be one of the few Black kids surrounded by a sea of whiteness. But given her extensive experience in administration, she also understands the difficulty of fixing an already broken system.

“We need to be aware of the experience of [Black] students, especially when there is such a small number of them in a big, very white institution, and do everything we can to make them feel supported, welcome and included in the community,” White said. “And that’s not easy. It’s really not easy.”

Raga did ultimately decide to continue her studies at Redwood, but she still wonders why she chose to stay.

“I’m happy I stayed, to a degree, but obviously there’s moments where I’m out and about in Marin or I’m at a game and people ask, ‘Why did you stay?’ I could go on with this kumbaya speech,” Raga said. “But mainly, I don’t know why I stayed and I sometimes regret it, especially because high school is such a key part in growing up. Seeing people that look like you and having conversations that I probably couldn’t have at Redwood [is important].”

Today, Raga is part of the Leadership class as well as the Student-Leader Antiracist Movement class. She, along with Starbird and Cordova, who also are enrolled in Leadership, has tried to become more involved within our school to increase representation.

In the end, Starbird emphasized that though Redwood has prompted uncomfortable situations for him, it still provides a level of community.

“Obviously, there’s going to be some people that are always negative and there’s racial intentions behind whatever they say,” Starbird said. “But there’s also always going to be the people that want to listen and learn your story.”

(Photo by Sterling Lazarus)

As each of them look beyond high school, pondering on where they will go next, it’s still apparent that Redwood, and the greater county, have huge strides to take when it comes to handling race.

“I love Marin, but some things do need to change,” Cordova said. “It’s not just for me, I’m fine for myself, but for the [Black] kids in the future.”

NextPrevious