Post by Barbara Preuninger on Sept 16, 2017 3:22:16 GMT
I come to this course as a person who has experienced both privilege and oppression, but mostly privilege. I am a white, middle-class woman with an Ivy League degree and a good-paying professional job. Most of my understanding of CRT has been self-learned from internet discussion, and some from academic settings (though no formal course on the topic of racism itself).
I’m drawn to the story-telling aspect of CRT, and inspired to tell a story of privilege from my childhood.
My first very direct understanding of my racial privilege was in second grade, when I was bussed to a special “magnet school” in downtown Rochester, NY. I was one of a very few white children in the whole school. There, I found that my way of speaking and my understanding of the world was considered automatically “correct” compared to the other children. I also found that I was automatically regarded as “well-behaved”. Once, I had inadvertently taken home a wire cutter we were supposed to use in a science experiment. I was very afraid of the (white) teacher, so I didn’t want to admit what I had done. Instead, she blamed one of the black boys for stealing it. I knew that was terribly wrong. It left me feeling very guilty, but also angry at the teacher. I don’t remember everything she said and did throughout that year; only the feeling that she was very harsh and denigrating to the black students.
When we moved to Pennsylvania in the middle of that year, I went to a white school. There, I struggled to perform at the same level as the other students, and was teased when I would use phrases or accents I had learned from my old school. I caught up eventually, but later in life I realized that the quality of my education in Rochester was not comparable, and my early struggle in the white suburban school had nothing to do with my inherent intelligence.
This experience gives me insight, and yet, in some ways I still struggle to find my grounding in a society that has dynamics very similar to that classroom. My challenge is to face the real fears that confront me (surviving in a society that is fractured and sometimes hostile); to find a voice that both affirms my own value, but also reaches out in compassion and courage to ensure that the value of everyone is similarly affirmed.
I can’t say that I have always acted in ways that reflect this vision of the self I’d like to be. I’ve never been hateful, but that isn’t necessarily what white supremacy is. Sometimes it’s simply a matter of looking past, or looking “through” someone. Sometimes it’s a matter of having an identity that’s invested in a sense of your own superiority.
I felt compelled to struggle against this mindset when hearing stories about the killings of unarmed black men and boys, and especially hearing the voices of their mothers. When I could look at a random black man as a mother’s son, a lover, a father, my attitude toward black men in general changed. It still takes a degree of mental work, but I’m committed to it.
The events since the 2016 presidential election (specifically, the rise of hate groups and more open racial hostility) only added to my sense of urgency in facing these things, and to be an agent of change in this area.
I don’t know where taking this course will lead me. I do know that I’m highly attuned to hearing the stories and experiences of others, and open to a new understanding of the world.
I’m drawn to the story-telling aspect of CRT, and inspired to tell a story of privilege from my childhood.
My first very direct understanding of my racial privilege was in second grade, when I was bussed to a special “magnet school” in downtown Rochester, NY. I was one of a very few white children in the whole school. There, I found that my way of speaking and my understanding of the world was considered automatically “correct” compared to the other children. I also found that I was automatically regarded as “well-behaved”. Once, I had inadvertently taken home a wire cutter we were supposed to use in a science experiment. I was very afraid of the (white) teacher, so I didn’t want to admit what I had done. Instead, she blamed one of the black boys for stealing it. I knew that was terribly wrong. It left me feeling very guilty, but also angry at the teacher. I don’t remember everything she said and did throughout that year; only the feeling that she was very harsh and denigrating to the black students.
When we moved to Pennsylvania in the middle of that year, I went to a white school. There, I struggled to perform at the same level as the other students, and was teased when I would use phrases or accents I had learned from my old school. I caught up eventually, but later in life I realized that the quality of my education in Rochester was not comparable, and my early struggle in the white suburban school had nothing to do with my inherent intelligence.
This experience gives me insight, and yet, in some ways I still struggle to find my grounding in a society that has dynamics very similar to that classroom. My challenge is to face the real fears that confront me (surviving in a society that is fractured and sometimes hostile); to find a voice that both affirms my own value, but also reaches out in compassion and courage to ensure that the value of everyone is similarly affirmed.
I can’t say that I have always acted in ways that reflect this vision of the self I’d like to be. I’ve never been hateful, but that isn’t necessarily what white supremacy is. Sometimes it’s simply a matter of looking past, or looking “through” someone. Sometimes it’s a matter of having an identity that’s invested in a sense of your own superiority.
I felt compelled to struggle against this mindset when hearing stories about the killings of unarmed black men and boys, and especially hearing the voices of their mothers. When I could look at a random black man as a mother’s son, a lover, a father, my attitude toward black men in general changed. It still takes a degree of mental work, but I’m committed to it.
The events since the 2016 presidential election (specifically, the rise of hate groups and more open racial hostility) only added to my sense of urgency in facing these things, and to be an agent of change in this area.
I don’t know where taking this course will lead me. I do know that I’m highly attuned to hearing the stories and experiences of others, and open to a new understanding of the world.