My Blindfolds

I am a white woman who's exploring her race blinders and looking for positive ways to be a white person.  In the way of introduction, here's a rundown of the landmarks on my race-awareness road.


May 2008 -  White me shows up at the orientation for my teacher ed. grad program we have a seminar about racism.  We read Peggy MacIntosh's essay about Unpacking the Knapsack.

I think:  "Oh, wow, okay!"   A tiny seed is planted.  In one of the readings there's something about 'white guilt.'  "Huh, guilt?" I think.  "Why would I feel guilty?"  I continue to go about my life being white, ignorant and racist.  


Fall 2008 - I embark on student teaching in a classroom in which 20 out of 24 students are Dominican.  Lil' old white me is God's gift to people of color.  I am determined to go forth and teach in "urban" communities to spread by boundless white talent to the underprivileged (whom I later learn I've oppressed).  I am certain that I "get" racism.  I choose Dominican names for the characters in my math word problems.  White me "bravely" decides to do an interactive read-aloud of Amazing Grace and "teach" children of color how to get empowered. During discussion time, my Dominican second graders raise their eyebrows at me, look at each other doubtfully and do not say a word.

November 2008 - I read James Gee's Discourses and Savage Inequalities by Jonathan Kozol.


I suddenly "see" institutional racism and it makes me think, "wow, now was that always there?"  I am doubtful that individual, personal acts of racism still exist.  I am now certain that my duty is to fight broad, systematic inequalities.  I plan to attend pickets and rallies soon and thus solve the problem (these plans don't materialize).


Nov-Dec-Jan 2009 - I read The Power of Our Words and Lisa Delpit's Other People's Children and suddenly learn why I just may not be the white saving grace to black children I was convinced I was.


Summer 2009 - I re-read Ralph Ellison's Invisible Man and have a difficult time of it.  I get the feeling he just doesn't like white people and I feel tentative and scared.  I decide for a while (but don't admit it to myself in these terms at the time), that dedicated anti-racism, ie dealing with the reasons a person of color might have to be mad or roll their eyes at me, is "just too hard sometimes" and "really stressful."  A few months later, I stumble upon the blog of a black man who writes powerfully about candid matters of race and I sully up a few comment threads with some serious mopey shit to the effect that the guilt (oh the guilt!) is just too much for me.  White me needed to make it known that I am "really hurting" from the effects of thinking about racism.

Months later 2009 - Aforementioned blog gets white me clued into the fact that everyday, personal instances of racism, do fact still occur frequently.  Headline news: A white scientist discovers that the sun is actually very hot.

[Cont.]