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 Will Racism Ever End?

by Anonymous


            In 1999, I was born to an African American family in Burlington, New Jersey. When I was five years old my parents enrolled me in Life Center Academy (LCA), a small diverse K-12 Christian school about fifteen15minutes from my house. In these first few years at Life Center,I befriended a few of my classmates who I now refer to as family. Unfortunately, during these first few years at Life Center, I also had my first time encounter racism. In sixth grade while I was talking with a few of my white friends named Kyle and Preston, Kyle made a joke stating that I was “white” instead of black.  While I do not remember the events leading up to this remark, I do remember hearing those words and immediately feeling a sense of uneasiness. I knew that these were my best friends and that they would never try to hurt me;,however, something about Kyle’s joke did not sit right with me. I knew I was black, and I was not sure why my friend did not see me this way. Even though I had been taught about slavery and racism from a young age, I did not originally perceive his remarks as “racist”. Instead, since these were my close friends, I began to interpret his remark as a “bad joke”. After my brief reminiscence, which lasted only a matter of seconds, I proceeded with the conversation as if nothing had ever occurred. 

As I continued to grow and mature at LCA, I discovered that I had developed a love and passion for traveling. This love for traveling ultimately dates back to our family beach trips where my parents would watch my sister and I soak our feet in the water and burry each other in the sand. Once, while we were traveling on one of our vacations, we saw a white homeless man with a sign on the side of the road. As our car slowed down adjacent to the homeless man, my father began to roll down his window and offer him some change. Consequently, the man looked down at my father’s hand, looked him in the eye and proceeded to walk in the opposite direction to a car with a white motorist. Still to this day I do not completely understand why the homeless man did not decide to take our change that day. I had never seen or heard anything like the events I had just witnessed that day. Surely if he was homeless why wouldn’t he want any amount of money that people offered him? Puzzled I began to ask my Father why the man did not want our change or help.  To my dismay my Father responded with the statement that the homeless man did not want “our help”. When he said our help I knew he was referring to the part about me that my friend earlier had unidentified me with. I knew that my father was referring to the part about me that I could not change: my race.

          As senior year approached, I applied to the University of Virginia, my dream school that I had wanted to attend since eighth grade. Later that year after I was accepted, I went on a college visit to explore the grounds. Once I got here was mesmerized with the atmosphere, campus life, community, and architecture. As I started to walk along the grounds,I could envision myself here and as a result I decided to enroll at the University. After I made this decision, the entire family traveled across the state, buying the items I needed to survive my first semester at UVa. During this whole process I was still just trying to mentally prepare myself to survive without my parents. However, nothing that I had researched, bought, or encountered could have prepared me for the events of August 11th and 12th. 

          As I sat at home watching television with my parents on August 11th, what I saw left me speechless. I watched a radical group of white supremacists invade the grounds of the University that I had just chosen to call home for the next four years of my life. I saw tiki torches raised and used to represent the torches I had once seen carried by an infamous group in documentaries and museums. As much as I tried, it was hard to reconcile and understand the events that I was witnessing. I was overwhelmed with a multitude of emotions: shock, disgust, disappointment, sadness, and even anger. How could I call a place home if that place did not even want me there? My parents, who always had always had an answer to every situation, almost seemed as confused and distraught as I was. I remember making eye contact with dad that day and realizing that neither one of us knew exactly what to do. Once the events started to begin to sink in, my mother called the school to ask what precautions they were going to take to keep the minority students safe. After my mother’s call, I went through a time of reflection and wondered if it would be safe for me to even attend the University. Another part of me knew that I could not give into the fear that the white supremacists had hoped their actions would cause that day. 

         Following these events,I began to get texts from my friends and warnings from my coworkers and church members. While I believed and listened to their opinions and stance, I felt that something was still drawing me to this school. In addition, I began to remember that everything we aspire in life is on the other side of fear (George Addair) and, moreover, that my parents did not raise me to just succumb to adversity. Even though, at times it still sounded delusional and scary to still attend UVa, I knew that I was making the right decision. 

On August 18th, I tried to put those fears I had aside and take the first step of my journey here at UVA. However, once I walked on the grounds this time, UVa’s atmosphere felt different. Instead of the once welcoming and safe presence that I had felt on the grounds, I now had a sense of paranoia. I started to believe that everyone was out to get me and that I could not trust anyone. In addition to this, I also felt as if there was tension in the air. To me, when I first arrived it seemed as if the events of August 11th were some taboo topic or the elephant in the room that no one wanted to address.

         Once we got into our first class, however, to my surprise my professor allowed us to discuss the events of August 11th and 12th. While I did not want to reminisce on those cowardly acts, I knew that this discussion was ultimately one that we needed to have. Additionally, I found value in the discussion because I was able to hear the thoughts and advices of my peers and professor. After this conversation and my other class discussions conducted throughout the week, I began to learn that these actions that took place might not have represented the whole city of Charlottesville. Additionally, I began to learn that it was wrong of me to believe that every person had supported or condoned the events they had witnessed that day. While our discussions did not ameliorate the events and the way that I felt, it did help alleviate some of my thoughts and perceptions; the most important thought being the start of my absolution of paranoia and fear that had plagued me since I stepped on the grounds. 

 Despite the precautions that the school was taking to rectify the events conducted by the white supremacists, I learned that some people’s hearts and minds might never change. A few weeks after move in day, my friends and I were hanging out [MOU1] in one of our dorm rooms. While we were in the room, one of our drunk hall-mates came into the room and we began talking about our week and school. During our conversation, our drunk hall-mate said the n word and I felt as if all of the air was sucked out of the room. My white drunk hall-mate stopped talking and all of my friends turned and to look at me, the only African American in the room, to see how I was going to react or confront him our hall-mate. I was dumbfounded and could not believe the events that had just transpired. Not only did my hall-mate just say one of the most offensive racial slurs around an African American, he did not apologize for his actions. In addition to my hall-mate not apologizing for his actions, none of my friends stood up to defend me, making me feel as if I was alone in this battle against racism. 

           After this event took place, I came to the conclusion that we need to make sure that people view racism as a problem that affects everyone and that it is not just an isolated incident affecting a group of people. In order to do this, we need to conduct more conversations as a student body regarding the issues of racism and injustice. Ultimately, if we have these discussions, we will learn more about each other and develop a deeper respect and tolerance for one another. In addition to this, I feel as if we have the duty as citizens to make sure that our actions do not infringe upon the rights of others,;making them feel uncomfortable or feel unsafe in anyway. Lastly, I learned that in most cases there is nothing wrong inherently wrong with taking extra precautions to make sure that you are safe in your environment and surroundings. On the contrary, it is wrong when your precautions causes you to negatively stereotype people due to situations that were out of their control.

 

Authors Note: 

            For my essay, I envision my ideal readers being people of all ages, genders, religions and ethnicities reading from New York Times magazine. My main goal is to allow the reader to understand how it feels as an African American UVA student in the midst of these events. After reading this, I would like my audience to think about ways they could prevent these events or more importantly, become an advocate for change in our present-day society. The piece came together after a few nights of brainstorming and jotting down ideas. Once I began to think about the events that I had been involved in, I began to think of how I, as the victim, would have wanted these situations resolved. This ultimately led to the reasons why I came up with those particular ideas at the end that I think will allow us to start combating racism. The things of I am proud in this draft is the fact that I never answered the question if I think racism will end. I wanted to leave that question to be interpreted by the reader and to become a discussion in further articles in the New York Times magazine. If I had more time, the thoughts and ideas in my essay that I think need to be further expanded upon would be the construction of even more ideas on how we could combat racism as a class and as a nation. As a result, the questions I have for the reader is if they have any ideas for how to combat racism? If they feel that my essay was effective? If they thought my ideas to combat racism would work, and if so why or why not?

 

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Curing Racism, the Nation’s Epidemic

 

       Racism has been prevalent in America ever since the concept of slavery was  implemented on a grandiose scale in the early 1600s. Despite the disbandment of slavery and Civil Rights movement, racism and injustice are still a pressing issue in America today. One of the major concerns arising from this problem revolves around the survival of the oppressed and so called “inferior” race. One of the potential solutions to this concern was provided by the two African American authors, Ta-Nehisi Coates and Brent Staples, who respectively wrote “Between the World and Me” and “Just Walk on By”. In these two pieces, the authors both show that one of the best ways for an African American to ensure survival is to live in caution and fear for the decimation of their body. To coincide with this idea, Coates also suggests that it would be advantageous for African Americans to return to their Mecca in the light of these events. Aside from this suggestion, neither author presents the reader with hope which they can take with them and apply throughout the world in their future endeavors. Thus, as an African American young adult, I seek to discover potential solutions and ideas to help us to attain the ideals that my ancestors died for.

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         In Ta-Nehisi Coates excerpt from Between the World and Me, Coates talks about how his parents taught him to live in the body of an African American. Through their teachings and scoldings, they taught Coates that fear for the destruction of your body was focal point of their survival. In order to make sure that their son’s body was not destroyed, Coates parents beat him out of fear “as if someone might steal me away” (Coates 7). These people that Coates parents feared could have potentially stolen him away were people like the drug dealers of the streets, police officers, etc. In reflecting on these beatings, Coates stated he I didn’t know if the violence, “even administered in fear and love, sounded the alarm or choked us at the exit” (7). This fear and caution that was instilled in Coates was later reciprocated to his son, Samori. Building on the teaching of his parents, he sought to teach his son how to live “without error . . . walk in single file and make no mistakes” because “our errors always cost us more” (26). This teaching was put on display when Samori was five and was pushed forward by a white woman on an escalator. In anger of someone else putting their hands on his son’s body, Coates heatedly confronted the woman. This confrontation enraged a white man standing nearby and prompted him to intervene where he reminded Coates that he could have him arrested. After hearing those words, Coates began to feel ashamed because he negatively drew attention to himself and “endangered” his son in the process (25). Consequently, he used this encounter as a life lesson to teach his son that he would need to be meticulous and cautious in order to stay out of trouble and survive.

            

          Similarly in the Brent Staples piece titled “Just Walk on by: Black Men and Public Space” the narrator, an African American college student, expounds upon the precautions that he would take walking home in Chicago and New York. The driving factor that coerced his precautionary measures were the women and police officers who were not able to distinguish him from the “muggers who occasionally seeped into the area” (Staples 405). His first encounter where he was negatively perceived occurred during his first few years at college. The narrator states that was walking behind a white woman who “picked up her pace and was soon running at an earnest” because she perceived him as perpetrator (404). The narrator believed this perception was conceived due to his imposing “broad” stature, “beard and billowing hair” and both of his “hands shoved into the pockets of a bulky military jacket” (404). After reflecting on the encounter the narrator notes that this negative perception could inevitably get him killed. Consequently, in order to avoid encounters like these, he began to take a myriad of precautions that were designed to make him appear less threatening. For instance, now when the narrator walks home, he “moves with care . . . gives a wide berth to nervous people . . . walks by” some skittish people and “whistles melodies” of classical composers (407).

 

           When I reflected on the precautions that the narrator took in the aforementioned piece, it reminded me of a quote written by Malcolm X. Civil Rights activist, Malcolm X, once stated that a fool would assist actions that promote his oppression.

 

           Only a fool would support a culture that encourages him to disrespect his woman, buy things that he can't afford, sell each other drugs and fill up the prisons. Calls you [...], and your daughter a [...]. The white man doesn't have to lift a finger to oppress you because you're doing his job for him.

 

            This same mentality could further be applied to the lessons of Coates and Staples, where African Americans would be perceived as “fools” if they allowed themselves to be targets, making their oppressors jobs easier. This mentality in accordance with the mentalities presented by Coates and Staples were evident in my upbringing and teachings as a young African American man. For instance, after the casualties of Trayvon Martin and Michael Brown, my parents and pastor took it upon themselves to prepare me for encounters with the police. They both expressed the idea that their teachings should be applied, no matter how minuscule, to ensure my survival. Some of the lessons that they taught me were to remain quiet and respectful at all times, be slow and deliberate in my movements and notify them of every move that I intend to make (such as reaching for my license, registration, etc…). These lessons were further expounded upon over summer when I had to an eleven o'clock curfew, due to my probationary license restrictions. Consequently, in order to ensure my safety, I always made sure that I was home before eleven o’clock, even when my Caucasian friends disregarded these rules and advocated for me to do the same. This same mentality has also affected my decisions at UVa. For example, I do not drink with the rest of my friends since I am underage. Even though there is a high likelihood that I would be able to drink underage and never be caught, I still do not take the chance because I personally believe that my life is at stake.

In the excerpt of Coates reading, he presents a question and that he has longed to answer his whole life. The question was “what should be our aim beyond meager survival of constant, generational, ongoing battery and Assault?” One of the potential answers that Coates derived was that African Americans should “return to ourselves, to our own primordial streets, to our own ruggedness, to our own rude hair. Perhaps we should return to Mecca” (11).Coates’ Mecca was Howard University, where he attended to learn about “inverted” white history (14). Here, Coates was able to learn more about his identity and discover everything he “knew of my black self multiplied out into seemingly endless variations” (12). While Coates does not exactly state why we should return to Mecca, judging from his experience at Howard, the reader can infer that Coates wants us to return so that we will have a safe haven. Through the reading, we learn that this safe haven that Coates refers is composed of people who are similar to us who will help us strengthen our knowledge regarding our history, culture and identity. Through this, Coates explains that we could potentially feel our “first measure of freedom”, a feeling he felt when he returned to his Mecca (16).

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         In response to the question Coates raises, during the trials and tribulations previously mentioned by Coates and Staples, I believe that we should return to our Mecca and safe haven. However, in returning to this safe haven, it does not have to be an atmosphere where everyone is ethnically the same as you. A Mecca should simply be viewed as a place with a group of people that you trust who can nurture you. For instance, after the events that took place on August 11th and 12th, I became extremely paranoid and began to think that I could not trust anyone. I also began to wonder if every student would be able to put this situation behind them in order for us all to coexist and unite as a student body. Usually in Jersey when a negative situation arises, I would seek help from my parents or Christian friends. Consequently, the second week of school I attended the Chi Alpha services and saw how warming and welcoming everyone was. In addition, I saw a myriad of different people of all ethnicities, from different countries and cities, all gathered in one building for a common goal. From then on I became even more active with the group and have discovered even more parts about my identity. Furthermore, I now perceive the building that we use for our Monday services as my Mecca.

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           In addition to the aforementioned statement, I also believe that a person can have a litany of Meccas. For instance, I perceive my church and home as my Meccas because I trust people from both atmospheres and rely on them to support me in times of trials.

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            One problem that many people found with the Coates reading was that he did not present the reader with a solution that he believed would solve racism. Instead, Coates reacted more cynically and expresses his apologies towards his son because he couldn’t comfort him because he “never believed it would be okay” (4). While I do not believe that racism in its entirety can be expelled from America, I do believe there are ways that we can lessen its effects. A quintessential example of this would be in the Macintosh piece, titled “White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack and Some Notes for Facilitators”, where the author learns about white privilege. In the Macintosh piece, the author states that they had once “been taught about racism as something that puts others at a disadvantage, but had been taught not to see one of its corollary aspects, white privilege, which puts me at an advantage”. After the author learns these things, she begin to be to empathize with those who and wonders how they could fix this problem in the future. While this exposure to white privilege might not produce the same reaction across the board, it could potentially spark some, like the narrator, to want to make a change and become exposed to the racial discussions at hand. Even though this situation, like many others, will not automatically solve racism, it can potentially lessen the effects of white privilege; which in turn can propel the conversation further about ending racism.

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            All in all, Coates and Staples both share the common value in their writings that African Americans need to take necessary measures and precautions in order to ensure their survival. Neither writer shows hope for a brighter and better world; however, Coates presents the reader with a means of temporary escape; returning to your Mecca. Through this return the traveler can develop their knowledge upon their history culture and identity. Additionally, this return could also potentially gain the traveler a sense of renewal and a new approach surrounding the fight of injustice. Lastly, through Macintosh and the possible sense of renewal we learn that there could be a way to potentially lessen the effects of white privilege and ultimately further the conversation surrounding racism.
 

 

 

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