Maya Angelou – The Mask
The Black Lives Matter Protest in Nottingham
Contents
This newsletter starts and ends with Maya Angelou reciting two poems. The first poem is entitled ‘We Wear the Masks’ and the end poem is called ‘Still I Rise’
1. Black Lives Matter: Letter to Everyone in the SoSSP
2. Open Letter from BAME Presidents (various SU societies)
3. Rap – Jaya Gordon-Moore
4. A Message to my White Friends
5. Relevant Links to: How Can We Win: Monopoly Analogy Explained; How Racist Are You?; The Atlantic Slave Trade
6. Rap – Nebula Jones
7. Links to Ways to Help
8. Dissertation – Olamide Ajayi: ‘”Woop-Woop” Police Relations with Young, Black and Male’
9. Some notes on James Baldwin
10. Poem – The Vandal: Hannah Nabi
11. Diversity in Halls
12. Dissertation – Naomi Dadzie: Why are all the black people sitting together
13. White Fragility – Robin DiAngelo
14. Life Interrupted: CoVid 19 BLM – Jacqueline Sanchez-Taylor
15. Artwork – Kemi Ade-Orojobi
16. Rap – Tia Chapman
17. Dissertation – Gabrielle Stapleton: ‘Who is Representing Me?’
18. The Problem with White Fragility – Jonathan Church
19. The Many Problems with ‘I Want Mixed Race Children’
20. Dissertation – Temitope Lawal: ‘An Investigation into the impact of Lack of Mother Tongue knowledge on Identity and Belonging’
21. Various reading lists and podcasts
22. Dissertation – Jaya Gordon-Moore: ‘I’m a Product of My Environment…So my music, course it’s violent’
23. Reminded of my Place: Jaya Gordon-Moore
BLACK LIVES MATTER
Witnessing the events in the US over the past week has challenged many of us in relation to the structures of racism that permeate social institutions and practices in Europe and elsewhere as well as in the USA. Structures of racism include the insidious acts of micro-aggressions and the various ways that people of colour are discounted. As Claudia Rankine writes some events send ‘adrenaline to the heart, dry out the tongue, and clog the lungs’. The murder of George Floyd by 4 police officers has affected all of us – staff and students – but not equally. This is not the time to stay silent as Audre Lorde asserted over and over again: silence will not protect any of us. Now, more then ever, we are confronted with the necessity of speaking out: of identifying racism and those everyday and structural acts of violence. As Audre Lorde implored – it is better to speak and to risk getting it wrong – then to stay silent. The deaths of people of colour have persisted over time despite the protests over the death of Rodney King in the US and Stephen Lawrence in the UK, the Black Lives Matter movement and various socio-political attempts to overcome corrosive discrimination and structural inequalities.
This communication is written on behalf of the staff in the School of Sociology and Social Policy and is intended to break the silence/s of the past week and how they reveal longstanding failures to give voice to social injustices and for us all to act to bring them to an end. The political is always personal and never just lies on the surface of the skin. Maya Angelou’s poem Still I Rise is a powerful rendition (you can access Maya Angelou reading this poem on you tube – it is easily available). Racism is profoundly structural and persists in the UK as well as elsewhere. The Covid-19 pandemic has shown how BAME fellow citizens are disproportionately affected, deriving from their disadvantaged social conditions, greater likelihood to be working in frontline jobs, just as BAME fellow citizens are more likely to be sanctioned for breaching lockdown regulations.
The staff of the School of Sociology want to connect as an act of solidarity and also to ensure that these events make a difference. In that spirit we are drawing your attention to the following:
• The Black Lives Matter protests that are being held across the UK and elsewhere.
• Please be involved in the Sphere project that we are conducting in and for the School. This study is concerned with collecting and understanding the experiences of students of colour of the University and the School of Sociology and Social Policy. As we need to understand a complete a range of experiences do participate in this study.
• There are various resources available to support you and do contact me – Amal – if you need help finding a resource that will support you.
Do contact either a member of staff who you know or feel that you can talk with or myself: amal.treacherkabesh@nottingham.ac.uk - I am available for a conversation and to provide whatever help and support is required.
This is a very troubling time and the difficulties are emphasised by the lockdown that has underlined existing social inequalities and as the School of Sociology and Social Policy we need to address these wider inequalities. We also recognise that we need to do more. We need to address directly the role of the university in the reproduction of inequalities and also our own curriculum in how we teach about injustices and our responsibility to address them.
Amal Treacher Kabesh
June 2020
Open Letter from BAME Presidents of Various SU Societies
In response to the statement released by the University and Students’ Union on June 2nd, 2020 regarding the ongoing racial conflicts around the world. We commend you on taking a stance against the injustices we have faced for centuries however; this statement is simply inadequate.
Your unwillingness to directly address the Black community within the university is disheartening. The recent deaths of numerous, innocent African-Americans such as George Floyd and Black British citizens like Belly Mujinga, has catalysed a movement. A movement which demands that Black people around the world be treated with the dignity and respect that we deserve and not as second-class citizens.
Needless to say, the UK is far from exempt from similar injustices against the black community; from the abhorrent treatment of our parents and grandparents in the Windrush Generation to the mismanagement and lack of accountability in the Grenfell Tower Tragedy. Unfortunately, neither is the University of Nottingham. As you can see from some of the replies beneath your official UoN twitter post, the University has yet again failed to do the bare minimum. Silence is compliance and this is no longer an option, it is time for the University to do more and do better.
It is truly disappointing that there is no clear action agenda outlined in your statement. Nevertheless, the Presidents of the majority black student societies on campus have identified specific areas affecting the Black community in the University of Nottingham that require immediate improvements.
● Firstly, we would like a proper acknowledgement of who we are as a community - a community of black students within the University of Nottingham. We make up 21% of the BAME community yet our attainment gap is a lot lower than the other minority groups. The university must address this gap by taking race equality seriously and providing a positive experience for black students. To most effectively support and acknowledge us, we ask that the University of Nottingham Student Union appoints a Black Students Officer in order to better represent and cater to the needs of the black students within the University. We also suggest that more officers be appointed to acknowledge the other ethnic minority groups at the University.
● Secondly, we believe that both the University and the Students Union are capable of doing much more to celebrate Black History Month. It is important that more funds be allocated to the Black History Month Celebrations in order to create more and better awareness about the black community, our history and our diverse cultures. Black History Month is not just a month about the celebration of the black community, but it is also a month that should be dedicated to educating everyone within the University of Nottingham community about how they can contribute to fight against racial injustice.
● A faster, clearer and more user-friendly system to report racial harassments and creating more awareness of the system. The current system of reporting to “harassments@nottingham.ac.uk” has been repeatedly reported as inefficient by your students. In addition, it is not widely known to the black community and this has gravely impacted the mental health of some members of our community as your current system simply does not offer us a safe place to seek refuge. Thus, further reiterating our emphasis for the need of a Black Students Officer within the Student Union.
● The University should also develop clear policies and procedures that outline consequences for discriminatory treatment on the basis of race, ethnicity, and other social identities. These much-needed policies should seek to provide accountability that is critical for combating hostile racial climates.
● We also strongly suggest that curriculums across all schools and departments be decolonized.
● We also urge you to provide professional training for departments in the University and SU on how to lead effective conversations about racism in their classrooms and as student advisors. We also ask that you provide similar training to administrators, staff, and student leaders.
● Stop using only numeral diversity in admissions or graduation rates as the primary metrics for progress. Instead, focus as well on measuring the racial climate on campus and student feelings of belonging and attachment to the institution. Both quantitative and qualitative data on diversity within the University should be critically examined.
● We urge to source a sponsor who would be happy in providing financial aid or some sort of crowd funding specifically for Black British students, who come from lower socioeconomic backgrounds, directly in recognition of the turmoil our community has faced economically and socially at the expense of British Society. Similar to the International student’s financial aid.
As diversity is highly valued by the university, an inculcation of black history, notable achievements and case studies should be acknowledged and taught in all fields of study where applicable.
We invite constructive discourse to see that these programs and initiatives become a reality. We eagerly await your response.
Chineye Nwagagbo
President of Student Union’s Afro-Caribbean Society
Gakenia Siika
President of Student Union’s East African Society
Nifemi E. Runsewe
President of Student Union’s Nigerian Society
Omolade & Bridget
Student Union Black and Minority Ethnic Officers
Annette A A Amoa
President of Student Union’s Ghanaian Society
Bolu fayese & Jared Spencer
Co-Presidents of Student Union’s One Heritage Society
Adila Ismail
President of Student Union’s Somali Society
Michelle Gladstone
President of the Afro Caribbean Medical Network
Jaya Gordon-Moore
A Message to my White Friends
1. “It’s awful but...” - No. No buts. In the English language, the word “But” is often used to deflect or to justify a behaviour. Police murdering black people in the street is awful. Period. End of discussion.
2. “I support the movement but not these disruptive protests...” - No, you don’t. Right now the movement is taking the form of disruptive protests. They’re the same thing. You either want police to stop murdering black people in the street, or you don’t. If you do, then support the protests — even if you find them disruptive and frustrating — because that’s black people fighting for their lives.
3. “All lives/White lives matter too..” - no one said they didn’t. The conversation is specifically about black lives right now because police are murdering them in the street. Until police stop doing that, and White people stop dismissing it, it’s not “All lives Matter”, it’s “MOST lives matter.” It’s not “ALL Lives” until Black Lives Matter too. Stay focussed.
4. “There are good cops...” - No one said there weren’t. There are three categories of cops; Good cops, bad cops and complacent cops. Good cops are marching with the protesters. They’re sharing the hashtag #BlackLivesMatter. They’re trying to change the system from within the system. There are many levels of Bad cops. The most obvious one are those officers that are murdering black people in the street. Bad cops are also sharing the hashtags “blue lives matter”. Bad cops are trying to shift the focus. Bad cops don’t stop their colleagues when they murder black people in the streets. Complacent cops just show up, follow orders and try not to take sides. Complacent cops are bad cops.
5. “I don’t support the looting and destruction...” - no one says you have to, but please stop acting like looting nullifies the entire protest. And definitely stop acting like looting is “just as bad”. That’s like comparing someone steeling your car to someone murdering your child. They’re not equally bad. Stop pretending they are. Police murdering black people in the street is definitely worse than robbing a Target.
6. “Just because I’m white doesn’t mean my life has been easy...” Of course not. Everyone struggles. But being white has never been one of those struggles. Being poor has been a struggle. Being a woman has been a struggle. Being gay has been a struggle. But being white has never been a struggle. The same can’t be said for people of colour. I could go on and on about white privilege but it would be so much easier if you educated yourself instead. This isn’t about how you, a white, cisgender, straight man has suffered in your life. This is about police murdering black people in the street. Stop trying to make it about you.
7. “I really wish they would protest peacefully...” - of course you do. They’re easier to ignore that way. People of colour have been peacefully protesting for hundreds of years. It hasn’t been all that successful. The reason riots and violent demonstrations work is because it makes people — especially white people — uncomfortable. We can’t ignore them when they’re waving torches in our faces. It scares us. It puts us on edge. Which is exactly where we need to be. People only pay attention to the extreme. If you have trouble recalling a single one of the hundreds of peaceful protests that BLM held across North America last year, but you can still recall, with crystal clarity, the 1992 Los Angeles riots, then you’ve just proved my point.
8. “I don’t see colour...” — Congratulations, you’re lying to yourself. Of course you see colour. And that’s good! Black people want you to see their colour. Their colours are beautiful and the very foundation of who they are. If you don’t see their colour, then you also don’t see their culture. If you don’t see colour then you erase their very identity. If you don’t see their colour, then you also can’t see the pattern of violence they’re confronted with everyday. If you don’t see colour, then you’re blind to more than just racial injustice. You’re blind to the world.
9. “They shouldn’t have committed a crime...” - This one is a big one for me. Consider me triggered. A boy who steals a can of pop from a 711 does not deserve to be shot in the back three times. A man illegally selling CD’s on a street corner doesn’t deserve to be shot to death in front of a record store. A man who runs a red-light, does not deserve to be shot while reaching for his registration. This isn’t about their crimes, this is about bad policing. Stay on topic.
10. “Black people kill white people too...” yes, murderers exist in every race and walk of life. But, that’s not what we’re talking about. We’re talking police brutality, and the reality is, black officers are not murdering unarmed white men in the street. That seems to be almost exclusively white officer behaviour. Stop gaslighting.
11. “Black people kill other black people...” - Yes, they do. Just like white people kill other white people and latinos kill other latinos etc. Crime related violence does not adhere to any imaginary racial boundaries or allegiances. But, we’re not talking about criminal violence right now. We’re not discussing drug violence or gang violence or sexual violence or domestic violence or bar brawls or whatever random type of violence you’d like to bring up. The conversation is specifically about POLICE BRUTALITY. Say it with me. Police. Brutality. Any other form of violence you bring up is entirely irrelevant. Please stay on topic.
12. “I support black people, but I can’t support the violence...” — In other words, you would prefer people of colour continue to be murdered by police, rather than have them rise up violently against their oppressors. Got it. That’s not support.
13. “It’s not about race. We are all human beings...” yes, except people of colour often aren’t treated like human beings. For instance, they’re being murdered in the streets like animals. On video. While people watch. While people do nothing.
14. “The looting and Arson distracts from their message. It’s their fault for not controlling it...”  If you’d like to lay blame, how about we start by blaming the police who frequently murder unarmed people of colour. If they didn’t frequently murder unarmed people of colour, the protest wouldn’t be necessary. The protest wouldn’t have turned into a riot, the riot wouldn’t have turned violent, and looting wouldn’t have happened. Blaming the oppressed for not better “controlling” their social unrest is asinine.
15. “More white people are killed by cops than black people. Here are the statistics...” - I love when people do research! Thank you for that! But those stats that you’re proudly flashing around aren’t an accurate reflection of the issue. According to data, there are aprox. 234,370,202 white people In the United States. Comparatively, that same data states that there are 40,610,815 “Black” Americans. So, when your stats show 1,398 white people have been killed by officers since 2017 and only 543 Black people, what those statistics really show is .0005% of white people were killed by police in those 3.5 years, while .0011% of black people were killed by police. That means, black people were killed 220% more often by police, even though they make up only 12% of the population compared to white peoples 73%. Math has no racial bias. Those aren’t good stats. Stop using them to defend your position.
16. “Black people commit more crime...” - Do they really though? According to data released in 2017, there were 475,900 black prisoners in state and federal prisons and 436,500 white prisoners. That’s a difference of about 9%. So for arguments sake, let’s say those numbers are an accurate reflection of the amount of crime committed. If people of colour commit only 9% more crime, why are they killed by police 220% more often?
17. “Well, the same stats you mentioned shows that even though they’re only 12% of the population, they commit 54% of the crime.” - Good Catch! But those numbers don’t actually reflect the amount of crime committed. That’s why I said to assume they’re correct. Those numbers only reveal how many people are incarcerated. The reality is, while those numbers are all we have to go on, they don’t tell the complete story either. In the United States specifically, socioeconomic racism, which was designed to keep POC in poverty through district red-lining, a lower quality of education and other systemic obstacles, is a huge component. Thanks to redlining (look it up) and other zoning and banking practices, quality of education in “black” neighbourhoods is significantly lower, which means the average income for POC in those neighbours is lower and the unemployment much higher. Also thanks to redlining, the unemployment rate, and lower income rates, crime in those neighborhoods tends to be higher. That means those neighborhoods are patrolled by police more often. Thanks to racial bias, POC are followed, stopped, harassed and arrested more frequently than the white people who live in those same neighbourhoods. What all of this means is that, when POC are arrested more frequently, they often can’t afford fancy lawyers to help them. They usually end up with Public Defenders, who are often overworked, and they often encourage POC to plead guilty in exchange for less time. Then there’s the fact that, because white people make up 73% of the population, they also tend to make up a bigger percentage of Jurors. There’s lots of factors to consider. So don’t assume that just because they make up 54% of the people in jail, that they make up 54% of the crime. The entire system is broken. That’s part of the problem.
18. “You’re promoting violence and destruction, shame on you...”. - I don’t remember encouraging anyone to riot. I also don’t remember encouraging anyone to loot or commit arson. The truth is, looting and arson is certainly not my preferred form of protest. But it’s important to remember that most of the violent behaviour hasn’t been committed by protesters. Civil unrest tends to cause chaos and confusion. That chaos provides the perfect opportunity for poor-intentioned people to do poor-intentioned things. That doesn’t mean the civil unrest should stop. I don’t condone the violence. I just don’t think it should dominate the conversation. If you want to focus on the violence, try focusing on those officers who’ve killed POC in the street. You’re focusing on the wrong violence.
If any of you are guilty of saying any of the above, then I have unsettling news for you. YOU are the reason it’s come to this. YOU are the reason peaceful protests haven’t worked. They haven’t worked because YOU haven’t been listening. YOU haven’t been learning. These violent riots are happening because YOU have left people of colour no other choice.
These riots are happening because no matter how people of colour have said it; taking a knee, marching the streets, bumper stickers, Banners, signs, or chants, YOU still don’t get it.
That doesn’t mean you’re bad people. That doesn’t mean you’re racist. It only means you’re white. And that’s not a crime, any more than being black is. The difference is, police aren’t going to shoot you in the street for it.
Relevant links for further information:
‘How can we win?’ Monopoly analogy explained
Ryan Pearson aka Nebula Jones
https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/
https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/#educate
“Woop-woop! That’s the sound of da police, Woop-woop! That’s the sound of da beast” Police Relations with The Young, Black, and Male.
Olamide Ajayi
Abstract
Not much seems to have changed in the context of the relationship between the black community and the police. History details a legacy of unlawful and discriminatory treatment black people faced at the hands of the police and how it has impacted on their perceptions of, and attitudes towards the police. From the 'sus laws' under the Vagrancy Act 1824 to the more commonly used 'no-suspicion' stop and searches under PACE Act 1984 today, black people, particularly young men, continue to feel at odds with the police. Hence, the Brixton Riots 1981 and Summer 2011 Riots, were said to have originated from the unfair and disproportional treatment of the black community. Existing literature has revealed a homogeneity in negative attitudes towards and perceptions of the police held by black men - a vast majority of which is limited to the US context. This dissertation investigates the perception and attitudes of young Black British men towards the police. In using a focus group research method, this dissertation concludes that; early socialisation, negative encounters with the police and police use of Stop and Search powers, all contribute to the negative perceptions and attitudes young black men hold towards the police.
Access to the full dissertation is available here.
Some Notes on James Baldwin - I AM NOT YOUR NEGRO
James Baldwin was one of the boldest and most important writers of the 20th century. Born in Harlem in 1924 he migrated to France because he could not bear the racism and homophobia of the US [he died in 1987]. Baldwin was a novelist and an essayist and was preoccupied with illuminating the psychic effects of the discourses of power. His novels include Sonny’s Blues, Go Tell It On The Mountain and perhaps the most well-known Another Country, If Beale Street Could Talk and so on. His essays are collected in The Fire Next Time, Notes Of A Native Son, No Name in the Street and The Devil Finds Work. While, Baldwin is well-known and appreciated as a theorist of racism and the enduring impact of racism on people of colour what can be bypassed is his sexuality and Baldwin’s own ambivalence and problematic understanding of sexuality does not help. The film makes passing reference to his sexuality. But in any case we have a responsibility not to marginalise, if not render absent, the intersection between sexuality, gender and racism because when we do so we miss Baldwin’s vital insight of the relationship between white supremacy and the construction of masculinity. For Baldwin matters of race and masculinity are intertwined and cannot be separated out -–indeed, should not be separated out – as white supremacy [let me call it what it is] and hyper-masculinity are interlinked in a web of degradation and exclusion.
In his essay A Fact of Blackness Frantz Fanon writes ‘All I wanted was to be a man among other men. I wanted to come lithe and young into a world that was ours and help build it together’. The 3 events that were held during Black History Month (October 2019) explore either explicitly or implicitly who is excluded from building this world of ours, who is excluded from humanity in the persistent and relentless positioning of being less than human and who is obstinately positioned as ‘other’ and refused entry into the spectrum of similarity and difference or as Avtar Brah puts it ‘the mosaic of non-identical kinship’.
Postcolonial theorists such Audre Lorde, Edward Said, Gayatri Spivak, Homi Bhabha, Jamaica Kincaid, Robyn Wiegman, Sara Ahmed [this is such a partial list] all insist on understanding the tight web of temporality – the past impacts on the present, the past and future imaginings cannot be separated out and the present and future are one. In the words of Baldwin ‘History is not the past. It is the present. We carry our history with us. We are our history. If we pretend otherwise, we literally are criminals’. In short, all of us inhabit postcolonial societies in and through the shadow of colonisation and imperialism. The long after-life of colonialism endures.
I Am Not Your Negro is a documentary carved out of the words from James Baldwin’s unfinished book Remember this House which was intended to portray the lives of: Martin Luther King, Malcolm X and Medgar Evers - 3 civil rights leaders who were also close friends of Baldwin. While the script is drawn mainly from his unfinished book – the director Raoul Peck also draws on work that has been published. Samuel L Jackson speaks Baldwin’s works but does so in a tone that can be described as ‘flat’ and without timbre or drama. We settle down in our seats and expect a Jackson performance and the absence of drama is unsettling partly because we are expecting something other but primarily because we are confronted by the relentless racism, violence subtle or not, degradations and humiliations that people of colour face in the US and indeed here in the UK. [A more dramatic rendition is provided in the film ‘If Beale Street Could Talk’ which is based on the novel of the same name by James Baldwin].
The troubling matter of the voice and whether to speak or not haunts – it haunts – whether to speak or stay silent. Haunting is never neutral and always is indicative of damage and wounds. So what we listen to in this film is Jackson’s subdued tone alongside Baldwin’s more animated speech. Importantly due to Jackson’s flat tone of voice we are drawn inextricably into the power of Baldwin’s speech. The flatness is relentless – it bangs away at us, chips away at our comfort, lets us know about the continual effect of racism and the micro aggressions that are felt. We are not distracted and neither should we be as Baldwin’s language gives meaning and urgency to policy brutality, the brutality of a woman holding up a sign that says ‘God will forgive murder but not miscegenation’, to the Civil Rights movements of the 1950s and 1960s and currently to the importance of Black Lives Matter.
Spivak is preoccupied with the look – the gaze – so how do we look while I am preoccupied with the matter of sound, tone, rhythm and the hesitations of speech. So how do you speak as a person of colour when there is really very little guarantee that your words will be heard or even listened to. In the novel – Bitter in the Mouth – by Monique Truong – the main protagonist has a secret sense – when she hears a word she also tastes it. This palimpsest of the senses – the merger of sound and taste – enables her to carry internally and in secret what has happened to her – that she was raped aged 11, that her adoptive parents conceal that she is Vietnamese and that her adoptive mother does not listen [here the trope of the indifferent mother can be widened out to socio-cultural-affective indifference]. Through this novel Truong and Baldwin let us know a truth that is too easily forgotten that lives are never made or experienced through facts and we all have different ways and means of articulating and inhabiting a life. While people of colour are often silenced, not allowed to speak, what we all know is that silence will not protect us. In the face of fear – the fear of failure, contempt, censure, judgement, or the worst of all – the fear of annihilation – how do people who are excluded find a voice. Audre Lorde quotes her daughter who said ‘Tell them about how you’re never really a whole person if you remain silent, because there’s always that one little piece inside you that want to be spoken out, and if you keep ignoring, it gets madder and madder and hotter and hotter, and if you don’t speak out one day it will just up and punch you in the mouth from the inside’.
The damage is every which way and that for Fanon is the precise difficulty. Fanon argues, throughout his work, that the damage done by colonialism, racism, enduring white supremacy is that the person of colour is excluded from humanity itself. The person of colour is never in the right place, is never the right thing, never speaks the right language, and never has the right affect or imaginings or belief system. This is Fanon’s relentless and heart breaking analysis [no academic demands there for rigour] but a truth spoken as it is. Baldwin also offers us the truth of experience that is difficult and impossible and his main gift to us is that he brings together affect, politics and the ethical endeavour that is essential to understanding and knowledge.
Amal Treacher Kabesh
The Vandal
Walking into halls, my new home, on the first day,
I subconsciously searched for students like me.
I couldn’t help but notice the lack of colour in the room,
and while being different was something I was used to,
it wasn’t something easily forgotten.
I shrugged it off, tried not to think about it, and that worked for a while.
Until I was already being compared to the other brown girls. Defiled
bathroom walls that pitted one girl’s looks against another,
but was it a coincidence that this only happened to two girls of colour?
We were friends, her and I, and we couldn’t look more different.
Yes, we are Asian, but we are more than that. Ignorance
from so many people not knowing what was so wrong,
knowing there must have been some who just laughed along
with whoever thought it was okay to write our names on that wall,
discussing “which brown girl’s fitter?” in a communal bathroom stall.
To say we look the same shows you don’t see past our skin,
but our race is only part of who we are within.
I never found out who the vandal was as they never got caught,
and while casual racism is something I’m used to,
it isn’t something easily forgotten.
- Hannah Nabi
Bio:
Hi, my name is Hannah and I’m a final year Film & TV student at UoN. Being a POC in a predominantly white hall had its challenges, and I wrote this poem upon reflection of an incident that happened during my first year of university. Looking back, I wish I spoke up about how much this affected me, so this piece aims to demonstrate the pain and frustration I endured at the time.
I hope my writing shines a light on the significance of covert racism within everyday situations.
Diversity in UoN Halls
I am emailing you to talk about an issue that I think the university needs to consider.
There is a lack of diversity in on-campus halls at the University of Nottingham, and it’s very appalling that university hasn’t been able to notice this or tried to fix this.
I know it’s a lesser issue compared with everything right now but it would have maybe prevented me feeling really depressed with no one to confide in after this incident.
When I lived in halls first year a white boy came up to me in the lunch hall, wrapped his arm around me and said ‘what’s up my nigger’. This really shook me and I was so hurt. But I was thinking, maybe he doesn’t understand, but I can’t confront him because I’m the only black person here and there’s no one to back me, and support me like that. So I kept quiet.
There is lack of diversity in on-campus hall period. Campus is SO BEAUTIFUL right? and everyone should have that right to comfortably live on campus. But I’m sorry. I picked on campus hall by mistake and didn’t realise until I got there.
* Campus halls only have catered accommodation, why? I know it might sound like a stretch. But why are on campus halls catered (mostly white) and all the self-catered OFF (mostly BME) campus.
Off campus which is mostly a whole 20mins away (in ur first year of university?). And considered more as ‘private’ accommodation.
White Individuals probably had meals they were used to and probably ur parents cooked. But Black people and POC, clearly eat different food to the catered food provided, they eat food mostly traditional to their culture and they have to move far away from their campus just to have that right.
Just one accommodation UON. They have built a couple and renovated halls recently but still not one. If there was a self-catered on campus - would be very popular for BME students.
Black people and POC sort of feel pushed away by the university.
I think it’s definitely something the university should consider in its future plans.
Why are all the black people sitting together?
Naomi Dadzie
Abstract
This dissertation investigates the self-segregation of Black British students within higher education. This is a largely under-researched area that is worthy of academic commentary. Reasons for this behaviour are extensively explored, using already existing literature and empirical research to gain a thorough understanding.
Primary, qualitative data from human subjects is collected using semi-structured interviews. The findings highlight that although at first glance, this research topic may appear trivial, it is far from it. Findings uncovering reasons for this segregation include black solidarity, racial identity and discomfort. Furthermore, the sociological concepts this empirical research is grounded in include othering and socialisation. Notions of what it means to be black namely, Black British are also explored.
Access to the full dissertation is available here.
White Fragility: Why It’s So Hard to Talk to White People About Racism
APRIL 9, 2015
Dr. Robin DiAngelo explains why white people implode when talking about race.
I am white. I have spent years studying what it means to be white in a society that proclaims race meaningless,
yet is deeply divided by race. This is what I have learned: Any white person living in the United States will develop opinions about race simply by swimming in the water of our culture. But mainstream sources—schools, textbooks, media—don’t provide us with the multiple perspectives we need.
Yes, we will develop strong emotionally laden opinions, but they will not be informed opinions. Our socialization renders us racially illiterate. When you add a lack of humility to that illiteracy (because we don’t know what we don’t know), you get the break-down we so often see when trying to engage white people in meaningful conversations about race.
Mainstream dictionary definitions reduce racism to individual racial prejudice and the intentional actions that result. The people that commit these intentional acts are deemed bad, and those that don’t are good. If we are against racism and unaware of committing racist acts, we can’t be racist; racism and being a good person have become mutually exclusive. But this definition does little to explain how racial hierarchies are consistently reproduced.
Social scientists understand racism as a multidimensional and highly adaptive system—a system that ensures an unequal distribution of resources between racial groups. Because whites built and dominate all significant institutions, (often at the expense of and on the uncompensated labor of other groups), their interests are embedded in the foundation of U.S. society.
While individual whites may be against racism, they still benefit from the distribution of resources controlled by their group. Yes, an individual person of color can sit at the tables of power, but the overwhelming majority of decision-makers will be white. Yes, white people can have problems and face barriers, but systematic racism won’t be one of them. This distinction—between individual prejudice and a system of unequal institutionalized racial power—is fundamental. One cannot understand how racism functions in the U.S. today if one ignores group power relations.
This systemic and institutional control allows those of us who are white in North America to live in a social environment that protects and insulates us from race-based stress. We have organized society to reproduce and reinforce our racial interests and perspectives. Further, we are centered in all matters deemed normal, universal, benign, neutral and good. Thus, we move through a wholly racialized world with an unracialized identity (e.g. white people can represent all of humanity, people of color can only represent their racial selves).
Challenges to this identity become highly stressful and even intolerable. The following are examples of the kinds of challenges that trigger racial stress for white people:
• Suggesting that a white person's viewpoint comes from a racialized frame of reference (challenge to objectivity);
• People of color talking directly about their own racial perspectives (challenge to white taboos on talking openly about race);
• People of color choosing not to protect the racial feelings of white people in regards to race (challenge to white racial expectations and need/entitlement to racial comfort);
• People of color not being willing to tell their stories or answer questions about their racial experiences (challenge to the expectation that people of color will serve us);
• A fellow white not providing agreement with one’s racial perspective (challenge to white solidarity);
• Receiving feedback that one’s behavior had a racist impact (challenge to white racial innocence);
• Suggesting that group membership is significant (challenge to individualism);
• An acknowledgment that access is unequal between racial groups (challenge to meritocracy);
• Being presented with a person of color in a position of leadership (challenge to white authority);
• Being presented with information about other racial groups through, for example, movies in which people of
color drive the action but are not in stereotypical roles, or multicultural education (challenge to white centrality).
Not often encountering these challenges, we withdraw, defend, cry, argue, minimize, ignore, and in other ways push back to regain our racial position and equilibrium. I term that push back white fragility.
This concept came out of my on-going experience leading discussions on race, racism, white privilege and white supremacy with primarily white audiences. It became clear over time that white people have extremely low thresholds for enduring any discomfort associated with challenges to our racial worldviews.
We can manage the first round of challenge by ending the discussion through platitudes—usually something that starts with “People just need to,” or “Race doesn’t really have any meaning to me,” or “Everybody’s racist.” Scratch any further on that surface, however and we fall apart.
Socialized into a deeply internalized sense of superiority and entitlement that we are either not consciously aware of or can never admit to ourselves, we become highly fragile in conversations about race. We experience a challenge to our racial worldview as a challenge to our very identities as good, moral people. It also challenges our sense of rightful place in the hierarchy. Thus, we perceive any attempt to connect us to the system of racism as a very unsettling and unfair moral offense.
The following patterns make it difficult for white people to understand racism as a system and lead to the dynamics of white fragility. While they do not apply to every white person, they are well-documented overall:
Segregation: Most whites live, grow, play, learn, love, work and die primarily in social and geographic racial segregation. Yet, our society does not teach us to see this as a loss. Pause for a moment and consider the magnitude of this message: We lose nothing of value by having no cross-racial relationships. In fact, the whiter our schools and neighborhoods are, the more likely they are to be seen as “good.” The implicit message is that there is no inherent value in the presence or perspectives of people of Color. This is an example of the relentless messages of white superiority that circulate all around us, shaping our identities and worldviews.
The Good/Bad Binary: The most effective adaptation of racism over time is the idea that racism is conscious bias held by mean people. If we are not aware of having negative thoughts about people of color, don’t tell racist jokes, are nice people, and even have friends of color, then we cannot be racist. Thus, a person is either racist or not racist; if a person is racist, that person is bad; if a person is not racist, that person is good. Although racism does of course occur in individual acts, these acts are part of a larger system that we all participate in. The focus on individual incidences prevents the analysis that is necessary in order to challenge this larger system. The good/bad binary is the fundamental misunderstanding driving white defensiveness about being connected to racism. We simply do not understand how socialization and implicit bias work.
Individualism: Whites are taught to see themselves as individuals, rather than as part of a racial group. Individualism enables us to deny that racism is structured into the fabric of society. This erases our history and hides the way in which wealth has accumulated over generations and benefits us, as a group, today. It also allows us to distance ourselves from the history and actions of our group. Thus we get very irate when we are “accused” of racism, because as individuals, we are “different” from other white people and expect to be seen as such; we find intolerable any suggestion that our behavior or perspectives are typical of our group as a whole.
Entitlement to racial comfort: In the dominant position, whites are almost always racially comfortable and thus have developed unchallenged expectations to remain so. We have not had to build tolerance for racial discomfort and thus when racial discomfort arises, whites typically respond as if something is “wrong,” and blame the person or event that triggered the discomfort (usually a person of color). This blame results in a socially-sanctioned array of responses towards the perceived source of the discomfort, including: penalization; retaliation; isolation and refusal to continue engagement. Since racism is necessarily uncomfortable in that it is oppressive, white insistence on racial comfort guarantees racism will not be faced except in the most superficial of ways.
Racial Arrogance: Most whites have a very limited understanding of racism because we have not been trained to think in complex ways about it and because it benefits white dominance not to do so. Yet, we have no compunction about debating the knowledge of people who have thought complexly about race. Whites generally feel free to dismiss these informed perspectives rather than have the humility to acknowledge that they are unfamiliar, reflect on them further, or seek more information.
Racial Belonging: White people enjoy a deeply internalized, largely unconscious sense of racial belonging in U.S. society. In virtually any situation or image deemed valuable in dominant society, whites belong. The interruption of racial belonging is rare and thus destabilizing and frightening to whites and usually avoided.
Psychic freedom: Because race is constructed as residing in people of color, whites don’t bear the social burden of race. We move easily through our society without a sense of ourselves as racialized. Race is for people of color to think about—it is what happens to “them”—they can bring it up if it is an issue for them (although if they do, we can dismiss it as a personal problem, the race card, or the reason for their problems). This allows whites much more psychological energy to devote to other issues and prevents us from developing the stamina to sustain attention on an issue as charged and uncomfortable as race.
Constant messages that we are more valuable: Living in a white dominant context, we receive constant messages that we are better and more important than people of color. For example: our centrality in history textbooks, historical representations and perspectives; our centrality in media and advertising; our teachers, role- models, heroes and heroines; everyday discourse on “good” neighborhoods and schools and who is in them; popular TV shows centered around friendship circles that are all white; religious iconography that depicts God, Adam and Eve, and other key figures as white. While one may explicitly reject the notion that one is inherently better than another, one cannot avoid internalizing the message of white superiority, as it is ubiquitous in mainstream culture.
These privileges and the white fragility that results prevent us from listening to or comprehending the perspectives of people of color and bridging cross-racial divides. The antidote to white fragility is on-going and life-long, and includes sustained engagement, humility, and education. We can begin by:
• Being willing to tolerate the discomfort associated with an honest appraisal and discussion of our internalized superiority and racial privilege.
• Challenging our own racial reality by acknowledging ourselves as racial beings with a particular and limited perspective on race.
• Attempting to understand the racial realities of people of color through authentic interaction rather than through the media or unequal relationships.
• Taking action to address our own racism, the racism of other whites, and the racism embedded in our institutions—e.g., get educated and act.
“Getting it” when it comes to race and racism challenges our very identities as good white people. It’s an ongoing and often painful process of seeking to uncover our socialization at its very roots. It asks us to rebuild this identity in new and often uncomfortable ways. But I can testify that it is also the most exciting, powerful, intellectually stimulating and emotionally fulfilling journey I have ever undertaken. It has impacted every aspect of my life— personal and professional.
I have a much deeper and more complex understanding of how society works. I can challenge much more racism in my daily life, and I have developed cherished and fulfilling cross-racial friendships I did not have before.
I do not expect racism to end in my lifetime, and I know that I continue to have problematic racist patterns and perspectives. Yet, I am also confident that I do less harm to people of color than I used to. This is not a minor point of growth, for it impacts my lived experience and that of the people of color who interact with me. If you are white I urge you to take the first step—let go of your racial certitude and reach for humility.
Source: http://goodmenproject.com/featured-content/white-fragility-why-its-so-hard-to-talk-to
Life Interrupted: Covid-19 and Black Lives Matter
Jacqueline Sanchez Taylor
I was recently one of three middle-aged students to attend an outdoors, socially distanced yoga class in the countryside near my home in Somerset. We set out our mats and before the class started, the teacher, a white woman, asked us each to say how we were feeling. My two fellow students, both white women, said that they felt happy. One remarked that she was enjoying lock down but had not done much exercise. Then it was my turn.
I am a mixed heritage woman. My father was Jamaican, my mother Spanish, and both were migrants to Britain. One of my sisters works on the NHS frontline in London, my other sister died of Covid 19 in New Jersey last month. Travel restrictions meant we were unable to come together as a family to mourn her loss, and even if it had been possible to hold a funeral for her in the States, my older brother would not have been able to travel there. He arrived in the UK in 1958 aged nine from Jamaica legally as a Commonwealth citizen. He has lived here ever since, paying taxes and national insurance all his working life. His wife, children and grandchildren are all here. But watching the Windrush scandal unfold, he realised that he too was vulnerable to deportation to a country he has not seen for more than 60 years, and where he knows nobody, simply because he had never applied for a British passport. He and his British wife spent almost a year grappling with the bureaucracy to regularise his status. His British passport has now been issued, they are told, but the Covid 19 lockdown means it has not been sent to him.
I have been closely following news of the disproportionate impact of Covid 19 on black people in the UK and the US, the brutal murder of George Floyd, and the wave of protests against institutionalised and endemic racism. I high fived my daughter when I heard that Colston’s statue had been torn down and thrown into the river from which his slave-ships once set sail. Racism is not an abstract issue for me. My life has been and is framed by it. As well as living with my own experiences of racial violence and harassment from both white women and men, as an academic in a British university, I have supported many colleagues and students who have experienced racism on campus.
So even though I lead a middle class life and can attend fitness classes in a beautiful rural setting, I couldn’t say I was happy that morning. I briefly explained this to the other women present. Then we started the class. Afterwards, the teacher offered some advice on dealing with anxiety. Then, instead of rushing off, the four of us started chatting. We talked about race. The other students started by explaining that they find it difficult and uncomfortable to talk about race. They want to engage, but don’t know what to say for fear of saying the wrong thing. They were worried about the anger that discussions of race can bring out. The teacher told a story about having been at a spiritual retreat where a black teacher talked about racial inequality. She described him as a loud and angry speaker and said that his talk had interrupted the white audiences’ expectations of the flow of the retreat.
I was struck by the idea of “interruption”. It’s one I can relate to. Racism interrupts my life and the lives of everyone racialised as black, brown, or Other as we go about our daily routines in a white dominated society. It gate crashes your day, stops you in your steps, makes you enter a world you would not choose to go to. Racism comes in unpredictable, random patterns and is unsolicited. It just happens. You are at work, in the classroom or shopping, or driving, or doing any one of the things that you do every day, and suddenly, you are interrupted. You don’t know when or if it will happen. It’s completely outside your control. And you don’t always know how to respond to this random, unwanted, upsetting thing that has suddenly interrupted you.
It is rare for white people to experience such disruptions, although gay and disabled white people and some white migrants will probably know what I am talking about. To live smoothly, without interruptions, is a mark of privilege. The Covid 19 pandemic and lock down has changed this. It has interrupted all lives, even those of the most privileged. So the current focus on racism and Black Lives Matter is interrupting conversations at a time when everyone’s lives are already interrupted and disrupted. None of us are looking at the future in the same way, and this is opening new spaces for talking and thinking.
Speaking openly and honestly about racism and its impact interrupts white liberal people’s comfortable narrative about multi-cultural Britain being a “colour blind”, post-racial, tolerant and inclusive society. But the BLM protests have touched the lives of many people around the world, black and white, and people who have never spoken about racism are engaging in discussion about it, and seriously considering what it is and how is it reproduced.
I came away from my yoga class pleased that my experience had not been silenced and ignored as it so often is. Our discussion started with race and instead of being quickly diverted to more comfortable territory, it stayed on topic. I felt for once that my interruption had opened the door to an exchange of experiences and ideas on the difficult topic of race and how to make a more inclusive society, an exchange that was empowering for all of us. Time will tell if this conversation will continue. I hope it will.
Jacqueline Sanchez Taylor is Lecturer in Sociology at the University of Leicester.
This article originally appeared in Discover Society, with references, here.
Artwork by Kemi Ade-Onojobi / studying history & american studies at UoN
IG handles : @kemziewemzie / @artsystuffbykemi
Background:
Finding my place in the world has been a running theme throughout my life. I started researching my heritage from the earliest age, which ultimately sparked my love for history. With this project I dug into my own family history (as far back as possible) and found many photographs of my Nigerian ancestors in staged line-ups like this where everyone was sporting European attire. I found it so strange that they were not wearing the bright, flamboyant clothes I know so well, rather reducing themselves to something ordinary. It made me realise that so much of black history is not complete. Black voices and black authenticity has been entirely misrepresented and erased throughout time. Nigeria existed before colonialism. My Yoruba heritage is embodied in so much of my being today, my name included. Despite having mixed heritage I've always felt that my parents wanted me to know I'm black. And I'm so grateful. I know how conflicting it is to want to dilute your blackness in social situations where you feel like you're taking up too much space. Where you feel inferior. But I've come to know and truly believe in my soul that being black is magnificent. I don't need acceptance from others when I accept and embrace my own self. This history is mine and it is beautiful.
The meaning behind the erasure of the faces is to represent how black history and culture is seen through a white lens. Particularly within the British education system I know all too well. I worked with embroidery throughout the project and added touches of coloured stitch to the clothes to represent the survival of Yoruba culture despite being colonised by Britain. In many ways this also embodies my own spirit. I've always believed in staying true to my character and staying true to my heritage. Black is beautiful. Black is resilient.
Tia Chapman
WHO IS REPRESENTING ME?
Gabrielle Stapleton
Abstract
Representation, conceptualised as a means of constructing and maintaining meaning, has been recognised as a vital element of everyday life. With this understanding, the absence of representation can have critical consequences for those who are underrepresented. The current statistics of Black female Professors in the United Kingdom (UK) indicate that Black female students are not represented by academic staff. This underrepresentation present in higher education raises an array of questions surrounding who is representing these students and what are the implications of this underrepresentation. This dissertation employs empirical methods of research to explore the impacts associated with underrepresentation on Black female students. The findings from this research have discovered that the impacts are likely to be negative and prerequisites of personal, structural and societal dimensions. The findings within this research have highlighted gaps in existing literature and provided recommendations for future research.
Please click here to access the full dissertation.
The Problem with ‘White Fragility’ Theory - Jonathan Church
If you are conversant with the vocabulary of progressive discourse on racism, you have probably heard of the term ‘white fragility.’ The brainchild of sociologist Dr. Robin DiAngelo, ‘white fragility’ has gained much currency in academic and progressive circles in recent years as a concept that goes a long way in ostensibly explaining why it’s so hard to talk to white people about racism.
According to DiAngelo, white people have been “[s]ocialized” to live with “a deeply internalized sense of superiority and entitlement” but they aren’t consciously aware of it. As a result, they experience “race-based stress” when faced with a challenge to their “racial worldview” because they perceive it to be an affront to their “identities as good, moral people”—an “unfair moral offense,” as well as an attack on their “rightful place in the hierarchy.” This makes it hard to talk to white people about how their attitudes and beliefs make them complicit in the perpetuation of “institutional racism.”
In other words, white people don’t want to be called racists. Of course, the idea that white people don’t like to be called racists is not an especially unique or compelling insight. Psychological defense mechanisms are commonplace in human nature. But DiAngelo wants to convince white people to let down their guard by claiming that their sensitivity is produced by a misunderstanding of the nature of racism. Racism, she claims, is not so much about explicit beliefs white people consciously hold about people of color, but about implicit—or unconscious—biases that sustain institutional inequities in the distribution of societal resources across different racial groups.
I can appreciate the difficulty of presenting social science research to a general audience unschooled in the data that have been examined and the techniques employed to examine the data to arrive at systematic results. The scientific method is demanding and is not readily accessible to everyone. For a social scientist, it is critical to the integrity of one’s work. But for a general audience unaccustomed to the rigorous and methodological nature of scientific inquiry, it can run up against long-held preconceptions about a topic, creating a degree of cognitive dissonance that impedes receptivity to new ideas and insights, especially about sensitive topics like race and racism.
But while conservatism bias is common among general audiences who are unacquainted with Bayesian reasoning (i.e. the updating of beliefs about the probability of events based on the receipt of new information), it is not always a one-way street. Scientists themselves can become so wedded to their theories that they give short shrift to reasonable objections that may arise from their audience, especially audiences not trained in their discipline. In fact, it appears that DiAngelo and her disciples have become so focused on white ‘illiteracy’ in the conversation about race that they are prepared to sacrifice the scientific method on the altar of fighting ‘institutional racism.’
* * *
I first came across the notion of ‘white fragility’ when I began raising concerns that, in many cases, progressive activism is inspired by ideas that lack sufficient support from social science research.
For example, elsewhere I have questioned whether confirmation bias affects the judgment of social justice activists. I have lamented how progressives such as Claudia Rankine have turned the Emmy-award-winning show Breaking Bad into a paradigm of ‘whiteness’ by misinterpreting the motives that drove Walter White to become a modern Macbeth (failing, I might add, to see the irony that Walter White’s final act is the murder of white supremacists). I have questioned whether micro-aggressions really are a thing, drawing attention to a devastating critique of the micro-aggression research paradigm (MRP) written by eminent Emory University psychologist Scott O. Lilienfeld in his review of the psychological literature published in January 2017, in which he writes that the MRP “is far too underdeveloped on the conceptual and methodological fronts to warrant real-world application.” I have pointed out empirical limitations and conceptual complications in the notion of ‘white privilege.’
Finally, I have come across serious critiques of the Implicit Association Test (IAT), which is credited by many, as Andrew Ferguson of the Weekly Standard has quipped, with “divining hidden racial attitudes, or what the trade calls ‘implicit bias’.” For example, in a 2008 paper, Gregory Mitchell of the University of Virginia and Philip Tetlock of the University of Pennsylvania highlight “psychometric flaws” in the research underlying “the elusive construct of unconscious prejudice.” In a paper entitled “Popularity as a Poor Proxy for Utility,” Mitchell and Tetlock summarize the literature on IAT as follows:
On issue after issue, there is little evidence of positive impacts from IAT research: theories and understandings of prejudice have not converged as a result of the IAT research; bold claims about the superior predictive validity of the IAT over explicit measures have been falsified; IAT scores have been found to add practically no explanatory power in studies of discriminatory behavior; and IAT research has not led to new practical solutions to discrimination.
If the science on ‘unconscious prejudice’ and the IAT is unsound, then there may be something amiss in DiAngelo’s insistence that the implicit biases of white people are a central force in perpetuating systemic inequities in the distribution of societal resources—what she calls “institutional racism.” In raising these objections with progressive friends and family, however, I have often been ignored, or met with skepticism. In essence, I have been asked, explicitly or implicitly: why are you so uptight? Why do you have a problem with the pursuit of social justice? Why do you get defensive about white privilege? I am then directed to the work of Dr. Robin DiAngelo on ‘white fragility.’
As a career economist with an undergraduate degree in philosophy, I have found myself distraught by this unwillingness to engage in debate about the merits of progressive ideas and the social science research that underlies them. I am not interested in what DiAngelo might call “protecting white feelings.” As someone whose first allegiance is to the scientific method, I consider everything fair game when the truth is at stake. ‘White solidarity’ should not get in the way when it comes to thinking critically about the hows and whys of social and economic outcomes. Thus, I do not experience any discomfort acknowledging that racial inequities still prevail in our society. I might be inclined to avoid the racism treadmill and highlight the progress we’ve made, but the data on social and economic outcomes across racial groups are clear. White people, on average, by a number of measures, fare better than ethnic and racial minorities.
While a sampling of data makes the racial divide clear, it is not clear what should be done about it. Hence, the policy debates that drive news cycles, motivate social science research, and galvanize the tirades rampant on social media. This is to be expected in a large and diverse society. But what has become regrettable—intolerable, even—is the fervor with which progressives claim the moral high ground even when confronted with social science research which should make them pause and reconsider their convictions.
The notion of ‘white fragility’ is an unambiguous example of the slippery slope that can ensue. Invoking ‘white fragility’ when presented with serious critiques of the conceptual and methodological underpinnings of the IAT, the micro-aggression research paradigm, white privilege, and other progressive ideas, is like hearing someone blithely dismiss a rigorous critique of communism as ‘bourgeois.’ One does not have to invoke communism’s worst abuses to appreciate the hostility to scientific inquiry of those who wave away objections by attributing them to a white ‘racialized’ perspective (to use DiAngelo’s word). Socialization and acculturation are powerful forces in the development of one’s capacity to think critically about social, political, and economic issues, but they do not make it impossible. To believe otherwise is to replace the scientific method (ironically enough) with a reactionary reflexive need to categorize any objections—reasonable or otherwise—as manifestations of ‘white fragility.’ In other words, ‘white fragility’ becomes an Orwellian device to dismiss objections from white people in the same way that ‘bourgeois’ was a semantic weapon to dismiss the objections of ‘capitalists’ to communist doctrine.
* * *
DiAngelo is intent on disrupting the ‘comfort’ that white people have allegedly come to expect in their daily lives. Whether going about their business or engaging in normal conversation, she perceives them as people steeped in the privilege of the dominant social group. As someone with years of experience in the study of race and racism, and in the practice of confronting white people about the nature of racism, DiAngelo has encountered many emotional reactions in her years running diversity-training workshops. For example, she writes: “In this position, I have observed countless enactments of white fragility. One of the most common is outrage: ‘How dare you suggest that I could have said or done something racist!’”
As DiAngelo emphasizes, “implicit bias” is the where the fault line erupts. It does not matter to her that numerous problems have been discovered in the social science research that underlies the idea that implicit bias is a driving force is systemic racial inequality. Though her approach has apparently become more conciliatory over time, DiAngelo remains determined to demonstrate to “red-faced” white people that they have been socialized into a “racialized” worldview. In her stubborn persistence, invoking ‘white fragility’ elevates a banal observation about universal defense mechanisms into an old Marxist storyline about ‘false consciousness’ as a central force in the perpetuation of systemic exploitation.
As I have argued elsewhere, the specter of Marxism haunts the contemporary social justice movement. The Frankfurt School of German philosophers, writing in the aftermath of World War II, theorized that ‘false consciousness’ is a condition in which “[t]here is no visceral consciousness given to the inherent justice of the social order in which the material conditions of life are enjoyed.” They were concerned with capitalist exploitation, but the same paradigm perfectly applies to DiAngelo’s preoccupation with racial privilege and injustice.
There is, however, a supreme arrogance in presuming to have unlocked the secret of “self-imposed immaturity” (Immanuel Kant’s definition of being ‘unenlightened’) hidden in a psychological vault of ‘false consciousness.’ If arrogance were the end of it, however, I’d be content to ignore the pious divinity of this kind of social justice activism. But there is something more insidious at work. DiAngelo wants to confront white people with their complicity in the perpetuation of institutional racism. She insists that “systemic and institutional control allows those of us who are white in North America to live in a social environment that protects and insulates us from race-based stress.” In a bullet point list of examples, Dr. DiAngelo’s first example of a challenge “that trigger(s) racial stress for white people” is “that a white person’s viewpoint comes from a racialized frame of reference,” which is interpreted as a “challenge to (their presumption of) objectivity.”
I will be the first to admit that I am skeptical when presented with the suggestion that my viewpoint comes from a “racialized frame of reference.” This is not because I believe myself omniscient, invariably objective, or immune to cognitive and emotional biases. It is because I believe in the scientific method. The suggestion that a viewpoint comes from a “racialized frame of reference” is, in fact, an expression of doubt about my ability to be objective. Of course, objectivity demands that I question my claim of objectivity. In keeping with the scientific method, however, introspection should lead to testable hypotheses about whether my thoughts stem from a subjective or objective frame of reference. I have done this many times in my career as an economist.
The inconvenient truth is that the available social science research does not currently provide support for the ‘implicit bias’ hypothesis, so DiAngelo should reconsider her assumptions about the nature of racism, as well as her claims about the role of ‘white fragility’ in its perpetuation. She does not, however, appear keen to do so, despite being a trained social scientist with a PhD. For anyone who cares about the scientific method, that is both unfortunate and indicative of a willingness to subordinate facts and data to ideology.
This kind of thinking has a tendency to transform education into indoctrination. When the scientific method is subordinated to the eradication of ‘racialized’ perspectives, we cease to learn about the hows and whys of social and economic disparities across racial groups and instead become immersed in the propagation of ideas that lack support from social science research. At which point it becomes difficult to dismiss concerns that progressive activism is not about social justice at all, but about ideological intolerance and conformity, driven by agendas reminiscent of Marxist thought and activism. ‘White fragility’ has become the new ‘bourgeois’—an accusation sufficient to invalidate any heterodox opinion at a stroke.
Jonathan Church is an economist who specializes in inflation and a contributor to the Good Men Project. He has been published in the Washington Examiner, Providence Journal, and a few literary publications. You can find his publications at www.jonathandavidchurch.com. He does not spend much time on social media, but you can follow him on Twitter @jondavidchurch
The Many Problems With "I Want Mixed Babies"
‘OYINBO! FAKE NIGERIAN!: AN INVESTIGATION INTO THE IMPACT OF LACK OF MOTHER TONGUE KNOWLEDGE ON IDENTITY AND BELONGING
Temitope Lawal
ABSTRACT
Migration and its effects have been explored in depth over the years, taking precedence in national debates such as Brexit. In more recent years, transnational families have been explored, with the relationships being sustained over a geographical distance. However, little attention has been paid to language, and the effect that this can have on identity. It is unsurprising that this has received scant attention, as the vast majority of research surrounds those who can speak the mother tongue, and when research is centred around those who cannot, it often conveys negative attitudes towards the mother tongue. This dissertation seeks to explore the impact that lack of mother tongue knowledge has. Concentrated on four ethnic minority university students, this dissertation determines that whilst language is regarded as important, it is not as integral to identity as previously assumed.
Please click here to access the full dissertation.
Things Not To Say To Someone Of Mixed Race
Modern Day Mullatos #Ep1: everyday racism and being mixed race
Reading List and Podcasts
Reading list - here.
Podcast - About Race with Reni Eddo-Lodge
Podcast - Witness History: Witness Black History
Podcast - 1619
Instagram Accounts You Could Follow
@mediablackoutusa
@theblackcurriculum
@blklivesmatter
@chooselove
@everydayracism_
@theconsciouskid
@novareidofficial
@rachel.cargle
@speakofracism
@standuptoracism
@showracismtheredcard
@overcomingracism
‘I'm a product of my environment…So my music, course it's violent’, Two Warring Ideals: What can UK Drill Music teach us about the relationship between young black males and neoliberalism?
Jaya Gordon-Moore
Abstract
With inequality, knife crime, mental health issues and UK Drill music (UDM) rising simultaneously, there is undoubtedly a sense of discontent in the UK today. Alongside this, neoliberalism has been the forefront of British politics for almost 50 years. Through a thematic analysis of UK Drill lyrics, this dissertation investigates the impacts of neoliberalism on the mindsets and experiences of young black socioeconomically disadvantaged males. UDM is dominated by young black impoverished males, who at the same time are impacted the most by neoliberal enforced austerity policies. Exploring the relationship between neoliberalism and the emergence and criminalisation of UDM, I found that young black males’ identity in neoliberal Britain can be understood through Du Bois double consciousness. On the one hand they identify as the British narcissistic neoliberal, conspicuously consuming for the most respect and power. On the other, the young black criminal, excluded and demonised in society, turning to the pressures of consumerism and illegitimacy to be successful.
The full dissertation can be accessed here.
Reminded of My Place
Jaya Gordon-Moore
In the midst of the recent BLM movements. I was reminded of my place. Going shopping minding my business. Headphones in, Nas ‘Purple’ is playing. I get on the tram as usual. Very much in my own world. I was interrupted by some shouting – I pull out my headphones and turn to face where I can hear the noise. A man Is shouting at me, I’m not sure what he’s saying at first, but he looks me in the eye, then up and down in absolute disgust. He is red faced and eyes almost watering. I was just confused.
‘I’M SPEAKING TO YOU’
‘EXCUSE ME IM SPEAKING TO YOU’
‘Huh?’
‘I SAID, WHAT COLOUR EVEN ARE YOU? ITS NOT MY FAULT YOU ARE BLACK IS IT?!’
For the next however many seconds, I am bombarded with questions, words, phrases. I looked around almost in disbelieve, like is anyone else seeing this? Apparently not. Or they just don’t want to. Or they just don’t feel they need to.
I pull out my phone and ask him what he said again. At least if anything happens, I have some evidence.
‘WELL ITS NOT MY FAULT, WHAT COLOUR EVEN ARE YOU- WELL I DON’T KNOW DO I?’
I contest him. I’ve been taught to stand up for myself and others when it comes to moral and discrimination. Even though it can be scary and can cause a ‘scene’, I cannot sit there and take that. As I contest him, the man pulls out a pair of scissors from his bag as he says, ‘Stop it now!’. He then goes on about how he is grieving, and it is ‘my grandma’s fault’ that he had mental health issues.
There was a lot more to the story. And although I contested the man, I did remove myself from the situation. When he pulled out the scissors, no one even batted an eye lid. A twenty year old girl getting verbally abused by a grown man because of the colour of skin she was born with. I would like to point out also that all of this was very loud, and the tram driver did not do anything or even check if anything was happening.
He felt the need to define me. Like many people do. My interracial Jamaican Irish heritage confused him. It felt like he was angry at black people and chose me as a ‘spokesperson’ to inform about it.
I feel failed by the system again. I reported it to the police. They came to my house at 9PM that night and took some notes. I sent them the video footage, for them to update me that they uploaded it to their system weeks later, after telling me during our interview they would do it immediately and take this stuff ‘very very seriously’. I went to town about a week after the incident, only to see the man again, in central Nottingham, 5 minutes away from one of the police stations. He was shouting again. I called 999 immediately. The women on the phone seemed confused as to why I was getting so upset. She told me to follow him but keep a distance and keep them updated on his whereabouts. I did not realise this was my job - the victim of the hate crime incident – to almost ‘spy’ on the culprit – a man who I believe is a danger to society. I’ve heard no news since.
That day reminded me of my place. As a young interracial woman alone in a western society. For the last six years or so I have been passionate about intersectional issues. I have been reading bell hooks since sixth form. A big aim of my music is to open discussions and stimulate change. I have always been interested in thought provoking content. I have always stood up against racial and gender discrimination, even when the little blonde girl called me a ‘nigger’ at the skatepark when we were 11. Even when the neighbour’s kids threw apples at me and my sisters because we didn’t look the same. My job out of uni is for a charity that empowers black communities and offers opportunities. But after this moment I felt exhausted. I felt so powerless. I make podcasts about this stuff; I really try to have hope that I can make a difference. But this moment really got to me, more than usual. No matter my degree, no matter my success, no matter how strong I feel, how above a situation I feel, how empowered I feel – this moment reminded me that the racial difference is still stronger in the eyes of them.
Still I Rise - Maya Angelou
Thank you to Sarah Dauncey who suggested this 'newsletter' and to James Heydon for his technological expertise. Huge thanks to the contributors for allowing us to include their dissertations, raps, poem, autobiographical writings. Grateful thanks are due to Jaya Gordon-Moore for her commitment, energy and work on this 'newsletter'.
Credits:
Created with images by Mattia Faloretti - "Black Lives Matter - BLM Fist 3D Artwork" • NeONBRAND - "untitled image"