African American Childhood: Part Two, Exhibit A

Just a note about this. Whether you can tell or not I have been agonizing over the language of this blog entry for quite a while. I wanted it to be kind, fair, and yet still say something real. I hope it accomplishes that, and if it doesn't, please have mercy. I mean well.

Part 2: Exhibit A

I feel that before I delve into what this book (See previous entry) says about African American childhood you need to know a bit about exhibit A: me. A white female raised in suburban America. The reason that is important is that my race and that of African Americans has a pretty touchy history here in the good old US of A. My race has historically severely mistreated African Americans. As for me personally I have never really heard a racial slur, let alone used one or had one used on me. The exception to this has been hearing African American males refer to each other as "niggers", which I don't think really counts as a slur, and Tim Minchin referring to himself as a Ginger, which again seems to negate the title of "racial slur". There was one racially motivated walk-out of African Americans in our high school which turned out to be a misunderstanding, and another walk out which turned out to be a media stunt and a ploy by African American students to get out of class, or so the rumors went. As for my part in these, I attended a meeting hosted by a race relations specialist that we were allowed to skip a class to attend, and when the school hired a full time race relations counselor I interviewed him for the school paper. Almost 100% of the minorities in my high school were bussed into suburbia from an urban setting, meaning that my chances of running into them around town were extremely remote. You can see that I have had limited exposure growing up to minorities in general and racism specifically. When I left suburbia I did what I could to rectify my ignorance, but I have to admit that whatever I did to acquaint myself with the African American plight was seen through my white female eyes. My whiteness colors every memory with a vague glow of innocence, and unawareness. I have read that the African American experience is often shadowed by much different overtones.

I struggle with what to do with the terrible past our country has with relation to our treatment of African Americans as well as the state of their culture today. I wonder what their future will hold. I wonder what my role will be in that and what, as a white female I should think and do when it comes to furthering the well-being of the African American community as a whole. I am a little at a loss. What should my role as an individual be? Personally, I feel like I don't look at people when I meet them and just see race. I see people. I seek out meaningful interactions with people of all kinds, and if those are based on mutual interests and intellectual stimulation, rather than on pigmentation I feel that is fair, but is it?

As far as the African American historical experience goes, I feel an overwhelming sense of awe about it. Awe in the sense that from my cushy perspective I cannot imagine a race of people being so selectively chosen and altered all in my own backyard. The quotes I listed from the book remind me that people, whether an entire race of them, or individuals, can't be subjected to long-term abuse and bounce back immediately after attaining freedom to the thinking and actions of non-abused people. Recovery is especially slow when the abusers continue to put up roadblocks to growth, healing, and even safety. Even though progress has been made, I think we are all still reeling from the massive importation of Africans to this country for the purpose of slavery. For better or worse I believe the imprint of those beginnings are still being felt now. The African American race has grown and changed in an immensely positive way with each generation. European Americans have grown as well, I believe. Just as one person can't change another on a whim, I don't believe groups of people can change each other fundamentally. Past slave owners couldn't just kill the desire for autonomy in slaves, and now I don't believe I and other Caucasians can permanently change the pregnancy or crime rate in any other race just by barging in and meddling. Maybe now the changes in both races need to happen from the inside out. So here I am, exhibit A: suburban white girl. Maybe the best I can do is to continue to accept as equals and friends those from the African American community who come my way just as I would anyone from any other race. Maybe the future can still be equally bright for all of us together if the proper time and environment is given to heal and grow.