Call and Response: Readers Pile On

Readers on First Class: Raising Rich Kids

(You can also check out The Fray, on Slate. Might cost you a few IQ points tho -- my apologies to those precious few Fraysters with at least eighth grade reading comprehension and even one day's worth of home training.)

September 8, 2004

Debra,

Interesting take on how you perceive your own children and we are all blessed that you have opened your family to an honest conversation on race in a way this country truly needs. It is sad, however, that the only goal of your discourse is the end of the culture in which you were born.

Tales of how you grew up under the thumb of the black men around you provides more data on how you have come to decide that the culture of your birth has nothing to offer you.
The interesting fact to me is that I would guess my mother would echo those very comments about how black men need to atone for more than their fare share of oppression the
female half of our community; and yet it was her singing "Black is Beautiful" when I was a child that instilled that love of my culture in me.

Perhaps you could explain how blackness is not a part of our culture? Why is it that no one on the planet would expect someone from China to write a book called, "The End of Chinese". Indeed, it is the worlds oldest continuous culture - that is a source of strength for members of that culture wherever they may reside throughout the world. Why should black people - and even people from Africa call themselves black - deny ourselves the ability to use our
culture as a source of strength?

DG

Dear Debra,

I'm 1/8th sub-Saharan African. I've got a DNA test to prove it. It (and a family rumor about being related to Crispus Attucks) are about all I have to prove that I'm African-American. Ok, so the rest is Indo-European. I was hoping for some East Asian or American Indian, but no luck.

Thanks to your article, I found out that I have hope that some day, I will darken up and my hair will get nappy. Praise be! I'm sick of this pale skin that burns if I'm out too long without sunscreen in late fall. My hair is currently limp and thin, as well as thinning. If my hair turns nappy after I go bald, will I ever know? When will this kick in? I'm 46 years old. Isn't it about time?

I enjoy telling people I'm 1/8th African. It's a quick way of weeding out the people I don't want to be friends with anyway.

RC

Dear Debra,

This is the second e-mail to you in under an hour. Since I sent the first one, I've been thinking about all the things left unsaid in the joking first message. There's things I can't find the words for.

Everyone looking at me sees a white person. They don't see someone 7/8ths white, 1/8th black. They see a really, obviously white person. My own wife calls me the "whitest white boy."

I wonder how my life would have been different if I couldn't pass? I wonder, and I think I know some of it. My life would have been a lot harder.

Could my parents have even moved into "lily white" [suburb]? School would certainly have been even more hell than it was for this nerd. Dating...would any father have let me date his daughter?

In my black studies courses (did I know on some level?), I didn't quite understand that I was privileged because I'm white. It offended me that somehow I wasn't "good" enough because I was white. As an adult, I look back and understand all too well that passing as white made a difference.

It's a hell of a thing to say, but I "passed." I passed easily. I passed so easily, it's almost offensive for me to talk about having "passed." There's so much I never had to deal with. Even when I told people that I was related to Crispus Attucks, they thought I was joking or thought it was so far back that it didn't matter.

I never learned to be afraid of police officers.

I passed, and I hate to say it, but I'm glad. I found out at a time in my life where it doesn't matter any more. No one cares now.

It's easier to joke about than think of how life might have been.

RC

Hello,

First of all I'd like to thank you, because through your writing I've finally decided to do something that I tell my wife I'm going to do all of the time, and that is write a letter of complaint. I have to say that after reading two of your recent Slate entries that you and people of your ilk are the real blight on Black Americans. The way you constantly berate and belittle my people is unfathomable to someone like me, who would like to see real change in the way we think about ourselves and educate our children rather than some aesthetic change, that won't embarrass me in front of my friends who aren't Black. But, maybe you don't want change, maybe you appreciate the status quo as it makes you feel superior to someone, since, it seems to me at least, you feel what other people think of your entire race is relevant enough to have made you such a race hating bigot. And I'm sure you could care less about my background but I too have an interracial child and plan to teach her about her heritage, as well as about various other important issues. That you'd deny your children a link to something as important as their history is truly a shame and there’s a chance that someday they'll resent it.

Well, that was really all I had to say and if you have made it this far I'd like to thank you again for allowing me to get this out of my system. And I'd also like to ask you to keep in mind, that I don't think anything I said will make a bit of difference to you, but if you really do want to help Black people maybe you should try a little more compassion and a little less prejudice.

Regards,

MF

I wanted to write after being moved by your article on Slate today. I thought it was filled with profound insights on race, class, & gender (I kept thinking how interesting it would be to read a similar article about from a father's point of view), but on another level it really resonated with me personally, which is really what made me want to thank you for writing it. So: thank you.

As someone who grew up in a working-class Boston neighborhood but lucked into a lot of opportunities to get a great education (scholarships and the like, aside from the prerequisite hard work and saving of my parents), I identified with what I thought to be your conflicted emotions about taking accountability for our own success. Where do we draw the line between being proud of our achievements (which seems OK to do) and thinking that we “hit a double” (which clearly isn’t)? I also identified with what I thought was your internal conflict about “being true to your roots.” I went to private school with, and now work in the non-profit world with, children of privilege, for whom I’ve always had the same disdain that you mentioned, and I’ve picked up a lot of their habits along the way (I sure as hell write like one, I’m noticing). When as a result I have a harder time relating to my demo-crew, drywall-installer friends who I grew up with, I feel that same struggle. Being white myself, I can’t even imagine much harder being black would make it and, as I don’t plan on having children myself, I can’t imagine having to struggle with passing these conflicts on to them. So I admire your candid take on a struggle which I’ve always had in my head, and one that seems to be even more complicated in yours. Thanks for putting it into words for others to read.

Quickly, what I found most intellectually intriguing about your piece was when you wrote: “What I begrudge them is their privilege. Race schmace. The real issue is class.” As an amateur student of sociology, I’ve always felt that as much as race, gender, etc are huge issues in our society, it ultimately all comes down to class (although race & class are particularly thorny
to separate), but part of me has always wondered that maybe it was pretty easy for me to think that, being a white man and all. So I was interested to see you mention that, albeit briefly.

Anyway, long story short, your essay was a breath of fresh air after watching way too much of the RNC this week for some reason....

DS

I felt a wonderful sense of relief after reading First Class on Slate this morning (so much so that I had to respond). Finally, another parent who is struggling with the very issue I have been trying to impress upon my wife and her friends. My wife was born into a white upper middle class family and seldom struggled growing up. I come from the other end of the spectrum, born to a poor "white trash" family. Through hard work and a lot of luck I've been able to move from the working class into the professional world. I met and married a wonderful woman, bought the four bedroom dream house, a new car and a big screen TV. Life was (and is) good. I could never have imagined reaching the level we've attained. We were blessed with two healthy sons and it was their births that began the process of my struggle. My wife has felt a need to "wrap them in cotton wool" every day of their lives. I've tried to gently explain to her that this may be crippling them in their ability to deal with adversity. I love my children dearly but find myself at times exasperated by their cosmopolitan view of the world. I've tried to explain to them that not everyone has a family home at the Jersey shore or takes vacations at Disney World each year. I've tried to teach them to judge others on their actions and not just their words, that "good" and "bad" people exist across all social and economic barriers. My wife has told me I've become "preachy". I've tried to tone things down but I'm terribly concerned that my message isn't getting through. The most important things in my kids lives seem to be PS2, the PC and whether they will get a cell phone before their friends. It heartens me to know that others are struggling as well with the issue of giving our children a perspective on the lives of others (who are often less fortunate). I'm going to end with the words of my late father in-law who gave me some great advice, "Don't give up and just do what you can do".

MP

Readers pile on "Racist Like Me"

September 1, 2004

Self-Hatred Much?

Yesterday, my eldest sister, A (25) called me to see if I'd checked my email. Apparently, our sister, J (24), had forwarded us an article entitled, "Racist Like Me" with the subject title, "Self-hatred, much?" Understandably, when A began reading the article aloud to me over the phone, I was anticipating evidence of self-loathing and therefore completely missed the point of the article until well into the third paragraph. After reading the article in its entirety and being beyond happy to have found a mature Black author with whom we could so closely relate, A and I decided to call J on three way for a traditional C-girls discussion.

After finding out exactly what portions of the article J had been taken aback by (one such portion was the declaration of your children being "white"....which I, having recently given birth to my first son whose father - my husband - is white, completely understood), A and I discussed with her the points we felt were valid and more importantly, routinely ignored. One such point was your admission of "internalizing the world's loathing of blacks"; this was my favorite part of the entire article. I'm a writer who writes what comes most natural: social commentaries that include romantic relationships between races. One of the books I'm working on right now (btw, your article and the resulting discussion with my sisters greatly motivated me to get back to it) deals primarily with a mother-daughter relationship in terms of emotional and generational estrangment but touches on the daughter's realization that we, as young Blacks, have been enculturated by the same society which produces passively (and not so passively) prejudiced white children...the result of which can only be self-ashamed/self-hating Black children. For my part, I was sent to private school basically until junior high and was, therefore, the only Black child in any of my classes. In fact, the only other Black children at most of the schools I attended were my own siblings. Anyway, at these schools, looking across the room, everything looked in order. Everyone looked the same, everyone was of the same class. I felt completely comfortable. Until I reached junior high and was one of two Black students (in public school, I was in accelerated programs so there were still few minority students). Looking across the room, I was now aware of a discrepancy. There was one person who stood out, who was not the same as everyone. This alerted me to the fact that I was not the same. Suddenly, I realized that everything I had been taught about what set me apart from the rest of the world, what made me privileged and what made others less than acceptable was not actually true of me, personally. I believe that we are all taught the same values and culture but, at some point, those of us where were not the dominant class to whom those lessons were aimed became painfully aware that we were the other who we'd already been taught to detest or fear.

I have been accused of hating my self or not "knowing" myself by many throughout my life, because I have dated and eventually married a White man. Because both my sisters do as well (J is also married to a white man and A is having a "bi"-racial child), many Black friends/acquaintances have noted that our father "must have done something really wrong". It is my opinion that my parents did many things right; they allowed and incited racial discussions which allowed us a great knowledge of who we are and, just as importantly, what to expect in response from Blacks and Whites alike. I feel that, while either choice should be accepted and appreciated, the choice to date outside my race comes from knowing that loving J doesn't reduce my love for myself. Often, I worry that the need to be solely in the company of others who look like you or the inability to feel confident in a romantic relationship with another race is indicative of an insecurity that is far more detrimental than my peopling the world with multiracial children.

I'm sorry about the "essay" response, but I was a Sociology major.

Sincerely

BM (22)

Huh?

I'm not a "regular" at Slate.com, but do attend occasionally. Last time Slate caught my attention with "Racist Like Me - Why am I the only honest bigot?" by Debra Dickerson, posted Wednesday, Aug. 11, 2004, at 9:09 AM PT. Slate added two "Remarks from the Fray,"
their reader discussion forum, seemingly chosen to reflect opinions of dishonest bigots that don't like her honest bigotry.My etymological mind sent me to Webster for the
'roots' of this controversy.

'Racist' ultimately derives from viniculture. The best grapes run to poor roots, while good roots run to poor grapes. Viniculture grafts vines running to good fruit onto stock derived from racemes or races of good, strong, well set roots. Racists adhering to these principles produce grapes that I like.

'Like' is a word that I like, except when I'm reminded that I'm like someone I detest. Then I'm chagrined, with a wan -grin- in the middle.

'Me' is my id, a tumultuous mix of memes 'n' genes from wherever. 'I' is my ego assembled from that mix, to go grin at the world.

'Bigot' skips to an old French term for Norman descendents of Northmen convinced they were the best things ever to happen to France. A clever Bigot named William, born on the wrong side of the blanket from a Norman shoot into French roots, captured England in
1066 as a base from which to better France. His Bigoted descendent Henry V bested mounted French knights with archers afoot and knives behind, but did not live to claim his prize. Back in 1066, a minor Bigot calling himself Mont de Gumbri accompanied
William, to become the scion [shoot grafted onto a new race] of the Montgomery family name.

A mere bigot, says Webster, is akin to a hypocrite, formerly a Greek actor following a script written with religious intent to bind one people together, to best another.

'Debra' I like, for it traces to a Hebrew word erroneously translated as queen bee, but actually
meaning a female decision-maker or judge in the time of Judges. The Biblical account of Judges gives only one such example, and gives only her title not her name, but I presume there were, and are, many such deborahs < debor = put in or restore 'order' + -ah, feminine ending.

Is there any inherent worth to be dignified in any of these terms? Dishonest bigots declaim from a script binding one to rip 'race' out by the roots. I think honest dickering could restore some order to the fray.

RLM

p.s. Incidentally, "Sue in Spain" told me that French/English "Bigot" comes from about 900 AD, when Rollo was made archduke of Normandy. Finding out accepting the honor meant he then had to kiss the foot of King Charles, he is said to have explained "Bi Got!" = By God! I heard that he kissed the foot, but then twisted Chucky off his throne. "Sue" added that 'bigot' in Spanish comes from the same phrase, but as it was uttered by hairy, mustachioed invaders, there is means 'mustache,' by God.

August 27, 2004

Ms. Dickerson,

Just had to drop you a line to thank you for getting me off my
complacency. Ever since the article you did for Slate with respect to
acknowledging racism within ourselves, I have been making more of an
effort to research my "opinions". Ironically, I happened across that
article solely because of the outcry of the Fray, and something made me
choose to read it for myself rather than dismiss it entirely as I
normally would. While you have some positions that I may not agree
with, I am pleased to read your views in the hopes that they inspire a
new perspective from which I can view the issues that pertain to me. I
also hope to find new ammunition with which to address them. Thank
you, for being one of the few black journalists that I can read about
issues that pertain to my community with respect.

Sincerely,

JS

May 26, 2004

Greetings,

After reading some of your work and hearing you speak recently on Jim Fleming's show on public radio, I went to order The End of Blackness on Amazon. I was fairly amused when the Thernstrom's book came up as a suggested buy, presumably to nicely complement your book.

I ordered The End of Blackness anyway, figuring I'd be better served evaluating whether you belong on the shelf next to the Thernstroms -- though D next to T would on its face seem quite a stretch.

Yours,
Demetri D.