At the invitation of moderator Professor Barnor Hesse at Thursday’s forum (in response to Northwestern students painting their faces black on Halloween) to give thought to one’s opinion before sharing it, I have done that – given thought to what was said Thursday evening and to my own opinions and reactions. For those who did not attend, you missed a great gathering of campus groups and individuals converging to hear speakers such as Professor Sandra Richards provide history and background of blackface in America, how it sprung from and was woven with racism before and after the Civil War, on through the Jim Crow era of the deep South and into the Civil Rights movement of the 1950s and ’60s. It was followed by a remarkable outpouring of thoughts and feelings from a wide variety of people of all colors, races, ages and gender.
Because time was limited and because of the possibility of such a forum adding to (rather than easing) tension from such a potentially volatile subject as “race” in today’s culture and society, Professor Hesse asked speakers speak not just to hear themselves, but, like certain parts of similar sounding anatomy, the fact that everyone has an opinion doesn’t necessarily make the opinion valid or worth speaking out loud. Professor Hesse invited the sharing of opinions, asking they be thoughtful and they advance the dialog in a productive way, and to refrain from merely venting or ranting in negative or hurtful ways.
I have to admit, at the time, I wasn’t sure what my opinions were. I came to listen and learn. Given Professor’s Hesse’s challenge to express thoughtful opinions, I had all the more reason to listen before formulating – let alone expressing – an opinion. Although I do think Dr. Hesse unnecessarily put President Schapiro on the spot to speak his own opinions, citing a need for the president to “run off” to a meeting (the e-mail sent earlier in the week inviting us to attend the forum let us know is a gentle but direct way that he had cleared his schedule in order to attend the forum, and he hoped we would be able to do the same), I am, nevertheless, grateful to Professor Hesse for his approach. It helped me to listen critically and think about my attitudes and predispositions without simply jumping up and speaking the first thing that came to mind. As a concerned member of the campus community, and having given further thought, I am compelled to contribute to the dialog.
While at the forum, I heard frustration from our black colleagues and students that in today’s America, they still have to confront the same ignorance, feel the same hurt, overcome the same obstacles and try to teach the same lessons that they and those before them have been struggling with for decades, or sadly, centuries. I can only imagine, then tried to imagine, tried to think, and remember if I’ve ever had experiences that could come close to such a struggle. No. I’ve never been stopped by the police simply because of the color of my skin (I’m white) and my location in a certain part of any town or city. Whenever I’ve been stopped by the police, it was because I was doing something I shouldn’t have been doing, not because I was where I “didn’t belong.” I’ve never had someone refuse to get on an elevator with me because of my color I’ve never been prevented from entering an establishment because the pants I was wearing were “too baggy.”
I’ve been in situations where I’ve been the minority at work, in social settings or where I’ve lived. It’s been awkward, but never in the context of one of the races having, in the past, “owned” my race. I can’t imagine.
The only way I can attempt to relate is from the context of my own experiences which admittedly cannot come close to the savagery of slavery and ensuing racism. What comes to your mind when I tell you I’m from Iowa: farmers, corn, hogs and rednecks? Yes, Iowa is all those and more. But if it weren’t for the good people of the great state of Iowa, the skin color of our current President of the United States would be different than it is. What comes to your mind when I tell you I’m of Irish descent: green beer, Lucky Charms, shamrocks? Yes, I’m Irish. So was James Joyce, a genius of a writer, as was Samuel Beckett and Edna O’Brien. What comes to your mind when I tell you I’m an administrator at Northwestern – the registrar, in fact (Be careful, my staff and I process your grades and post your degrees.) I’ve never experienced outright hostility or harassment, although I have had people talk to my tie and what it represents to them, as though the person behind the tie were some sort of bureaucratic automaton. I’ve had people talk about my beard and the glasses on my face, assuming because I wear them both I must be a professor. I’ve seen people’s faces light up when I tell them I work at NU and proceed to tell me how smart their daughter or grandson is and how much either would like to go to such a “good” school as “Northwestern,” as though the status of having a relative attend NU would somehow rub off on them and as if I had anything to do with whether someone is admitted here. I’ve also had people look down their noses when I tell them I work at NU and say, “Oh,” silently indicting me as “one of them,” whatever such an indictment means in the context of their world.
At the forum, I also heard the phrase “white privilege.” Yes, I work at NU as University Registrar, having worked for 13 years in the same position at Northern Arizona University, as associate registrar at Binghamton University for eight years before that, Residence Life and Student Judicial Affairs before that, and graduate work before that. My first job, though, in the summers between high school years, was digging graves. That’s kind of like being a registrar. We kept records. Every day, all summer long, I dug graves, after which I would run home, shower, change my clothes, and make pizzas until 1 a.m., then get up and do it all over again. I was nearly a victim of my own profession then, and at times felt in need of the same final service I provided anonymously to others. Sometimes I still feel the same way. I’ve worked hard to get where I am. After my undergraduate education and two years of social work in halfway houses, painting houses, digging more ditches and driving a beer truck (I said I’m Irish), I returned to graduate school and worked just as hard as the students who painted their faces and those who were offended by it. I don’t feel as though I’ve had anything “handed” to me. I’m sure some whites have had privileged pasts, or presents; emphasis on some. I’m equally sure to some who feel they have never had anything “handed” to them, who’ve had to struggle against seemingly insurmountable odds, it seems others have received what they have through privilege.
The color of my skin does not tell you anything, really, about who I am as a person. What I wear and how I look do not really tell you anything about me either. Where I work and what I do there now does not tell you anything about who I am. While some may see my current position as somehow “privileged,” that view does not take into consideration the fact that I work with faculty and staff of all various persuasions, from black to Puerto Rican, Mexican to Romanian in my office alone; nor does it inform you of my past work experiences with Chicanos in Colorado, blacks in Ohio, and Native Americans in Arizona.
And yet, as members of the human race, you already know all you need to know about me that really matters. I laugh, I cry, I love, I struggle with the balance between having one foot in this physical world and one in the spiritual world and how to reconcile the dual nature of my existence. In truth, we are far more similar than we are different.
We make assumptions about other people, places and things based on our perceptions and the context of our experiences. We must challenge the assumptions we make about others, where they are from and what they do, and we must challenge the assumptions that others make about us. There are many differences we can ce
lebrate about one another, including our skin color, race, ethnicity, gender, age, sexual orientation, religious background, beliefs, values and limitless list of multifaceted characteristics of our sameness.
Among the many challenges proposed at last week’s forum, one was, “Where can we go from here and what can we do now?”
First, I wasn’t sure where to send this letter. I know it exceeds The Daily Northwestern’s suggested word limit for letters to the editor, and as such the risk is not being published. But where else can I contribute? Where is the dialog? I note there is a live blog on The Daily’s Web site related to the forum, but that seems to be for staff postings only. Nothing wrong with that, but perhaps one of the groups that sponsored the forum would consider putting up a Web site for the purpose of posting comments and continuing the dialogue in a public forum, adding to or disagreeing with anything I’ve said here.
Second, I also note there is a brief survey on the Daily web site asking what students think about altering the curriculum to include even more race-related classes. That is a worthy suggestion to consider and up to faculty and students to determine. But offering classes at the college level about how we need to relate to one another seems a bit late. Why wait until attitudes and preconceptions are already formed? What about the possibility of a research institution such as NU, with its own School of Education and Social Policy, researching and influencing the curricular models of K-12 education? There was an excellent article recently published by Sol Stern, contributing editor of the City Journal, senior fellow at the Manhattan Institute and author of Breaking Free: Public School Lessons and the Imperative of School Choice. To learn more about the work of E.D. Hirsch, Jr., the current debate about how students learn, and how they can become better students and more engaged citizens by adhering to the educational principles of providing”core knowledge” even in grade school, go here.
Third, using whatever forums are provided, continue the dialogue by contributing what you think too.
–Patrick F. Martin
University Registrar, Evanston Campus
Northwestern University
