Sometimes when I’m going to teach a heavy lesson to students I let them know ahead of time, kind of like one of those news alerts we see so often when the images will be graphic. Only I say something like, “Hey gang, we’re about to wade into the thick of it. Bring a bottle of water, a sense of humor, and prepare for the bathroom breaks.”
The bathroom breaks are for me because I’ve had four kids, and also for the students, because when we are learning hefty material, we need to walk it out sometimes. So, I’m just going to go ahead and tell y’all the same thing: before you read this go grab a bottle of water, make sure you are comfortable with being uncomfortable, be willing to laugh at me, and put the paper down to visit the bathroom if you have to. I’ll wait. Okay, ready?
The editor asked me to use my column to write about the current events. Eek!
I know, you’re used me be being either funny or sad. What a mix! But sometimes, and gosh I hate these times, I can be serious. I decided I would attempt to tackle what’s happening in the news by telling you about my own experiences, and how I got to where I am today in regard to my thought process.
I was raised in a very small central Illinois town known as Mansfield. Actually it’s a village, population 800. There were no people of color (POC) and the only in-person experience I had with anyone who looked different than myself was when we would visit the reservations in northern Wisconsin. Moments that I found very sobering.
Other than that, I only experienced POC by watching Illini Basketball. My grandparents were season ticket holders, so I was able to go to so many basketball games, and meet the players. To me, these young men were local heroes. The Flying Illini! They were larger than life, and it was hard to believe they were real people. To me, they were basketball legends.
With the ignorance of youth, I never thought about where they had grown up. Or the battles that they had fought before becoming an Illini player. I didn’t even blink an eye to the fact that they were the only POC that I knew, and I didn’t even know them. There were a great many times that I would hear family and friends talk about how much they loved Kendall Gill, but they didn’t have the same love for Nick Anderson. I once heard one of my family members say it was because Kendall Gill knew how to talk.
Yeah, that’s uncomfortable. I feel gross typing it. Want to know what’s even more gross? I didn’t realize that was wrong. I didn’t know that was bad behavior for a long time.
As I grew older, I became more educated, and I also was lucky enough to make a lot of friendships with POC. One of my favorite friends is from New Orleans, her name is Terri Simon. Goodness she is a character; Terri is also always calling me out when I say the wrong thing.
Which. I. Do. Often.
It’s not Terri’s job to educate me though. It’s my job.
That was something I didn’t realize either. Terri was kind enough to tell me that she, a Black woman, was tired of fighting for her own rights and trying to teach her white friends about not only how their behavior was hurtful but how they could help her and other Black people.
The first time Terri told me I had said something racist, I almost threw up. Here in the Midwest, some of us say the word “gal.” I cannot tell you how often my grandma would say, “What are you gals up to?”
As such, it’s part of my vocabulary.
I remember introducing Terri to a friend of mine and telling my friend that Terri was a “brilliant and witty gal,” and Terri bit her tongue. She later told me that I had insulted her. She said, “Kelly, I love you enough to tell you that calling a Black woman ‘gal’ is the equivalent of saying “boy” to a Black man.
I felt awful. Terri didn’t care that I felt awful. She said, “Educate yourself, Kelly.”
I’ve been working hard to do that ever since, and I make mistakes all of the time. I feel pretty uncomfortable when I make them, but I learn.
Possibly one of the hardest things is learning how to have a debate with people without fighting. You know what I don’t like to do? Fight. Gosh, I hate it. Anytime my dad and Grandma would start talking politics in our family kitchen, I quickly made my escape out of the house. “I need to go play with the dogs! Cats! Anything alive!”
They were incapable of talking to one another. My grandmother was a Democrat from a long line of Democrats, and my dad just didn’t care about politics but had a LOT to say. I will forever remember my mom’s expression as I ran out of the house, and I know she wished that she could run off with me.
Over the years, I have learned to get over my uneasy feeling when people disagree. It’s harder to talk to them about things I don’t agree with, but I try. For instance, the riots happening now. As I type this, many of my friends and family are in big cities experiencing fear due to the events. And as I type this, I will admit that that a great deal of my friends are upset and angry about what is happening: some pro-riot some anti-riot.
The one thing to remember when you’re talking about things that you feel passionate about, is that the other person you are talking to feels passionate for reasons that resonate with them just as much as your reasons. Also, you both think you’re right. Oof!
How do you communicate then? You find a common thread. My favorite way to teach students about this is by using Marvel vs. DC. Honestly, I’m a DC fan, but I always start my argument by complimenting Captain Marvel’s butt…..(endears me to my audience! Who doesn’t love his butt? Didn’t we just learn that’s America’s butt?).
What would our common thread be now? I think one thing that almost everyone can agree with is that George Floyd should not have died in the way that he did. But then riots have started to happen, and that’s when everyone kind of took a deep dive into hefty argument.
Here’s the thing, if we argue and fight about why people are rioting? We won’t get any work done. And do you know whose job it is to do the work?
It’s ours (meaning white Americans).
As Terri so graciously told me long ago, it’s my job as a white woman to educate myself. It’s my job to understand why people riot. It’s my job to see how the criminal justice system doesn’t in the same ways for everyone. It’s my job to care enough about people who don’t agree with me, to talk with them, and figure out how we can work together to accomplish a common good.
So, I guess I have to figure out how to connect with and talk to my Uncle I mentioned in the title of this piece. It won’t be overnight, but it will come in time. The important thing is that I try.
That we all try.
Also, here’s a neat little tidbit. Did you know that, “While the act of learning is primarily intellectual, behavioral, or methodological, the experience of learning is primarily emotional. And it’s the emotional experience of learning — of being a beginner and making mistakes, often publicly — that often keeps people from even trying to learn.” – Peter Bregman
So, if you feel uncomfortable when educating yourself, and you feel emotional. You’re doing it right. Just don’t give up! I haven’t yet, and I embarrass myself all of the time.
I promise to not make fun of you, and I’d be happy to learn alongside you.