Bea
Gyimah
"We
must live together as brothers or perish together as fools"
-Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.
America,
since its establishment, has relied on a distinct conceptual
artillery to bestow power upon some and secure control over
many. This merciless weapon theoretically continues to kill,
steal, and destroy every time two cultures, two beliefs,
and two identities cross and refuse to greet, merge, or
let the other pass. In the image of a double-edged blade,
it has the capacity to not only traumatize the slain, but
also gradually penetrate the slayer-Institutionalized Racism.
Ultimately, racism is nothing more than a warranty, contract,
policy that grants a culture social, economical, and political
dominion over its diverse counterparts. Regardless of one's
culture, he or she will either hold this sword or feel the
painful lashes of it, yet if we as adults are aware
of this weapon's existence why then should we contribute
to or ignore its reign of social terror?
This wretched practice has burdened the shoulders of our
forefathers and still presses upon our backs today. Tragically,
racism is like a jagged pebble cast upon a peaceful lake,
it spreads and continues to get larger and larger until
the entire lake's presence is corrupted by troublesome ripples.
As children we all have embodied this altruistic lake, until
some incident disrupted our intercultural mechanisms telling
us: that we have more differences than similarities,
that we should stay with our own kind, that we are either
biologically superior/ inferior to the others. As young
impressionable minds, we either chose to embrace or confront
these notions, but regardless their result, they inevitably
molded our relationships with otherness.
Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. once said, "The time is
always right to do what is right," but very seldom
are we willing to question "the reoccurring" derogatory
notions and demeaning behavior that continues to threaten
our progressing society in the 21st century. It's a constant
struggle to reflect a sense of equality in a world that
does otherwise, but there have been millions that have intervened
against the roaring ripples of racism and have swum through
these devouring waves of opposition to make it to the dry
lands of emancipation and integration. Yet, a definite sense
of cross-cultural equality still hasn't rooted itself upon
our shores, which is why the need for social optimists,
that seek to challenge and deconstruct the turbulent contents
of these waves, are of the essence. To better express my
views of racism and the urgency for "eracism,"
I've chosen literature as my vehicle to depict the devastation
of prejudice on both sides and shed light on how to replace
intolerant with tolerant behavior for a more colorblind
America. Merging my own observations with the works of various
multi-cultural writers, I wish to discuss how we all racially,
ideologically, and socially can culturally diffuse/cross-pollinate
our ethnicities to gain "a long overdue" sense
of appreciation for one another.
First,
for those that have been slashed by the blades of racism,
it epitomizes a ravenous monster that habitually pillages
through our country, bearing its vicious claws, seeking
to tear down those groups that are easy prey to its insatiable
craving to demean, condescend, and belittle. The word racism
has, similar to the words nigger, honkey, kike, wetback,
or chink, literally dripped blood, hung rope, fueled
fire, thrown bricks, spewed spit and shattered countless
dreams. For the instigator, these racial slurs may have
granted them a sense of power, without realizing these labels
only weaken his/her moral disposition to the groups their
remarks were directed to, because racism undoubtedly marks
the branded without forgetting to leave an imprint on the
brander-it hasn't any discretion for either party involved.
Viewed as the instigator's clever mechanism for cultural
reservation, bigotry leaves them with a label far more damaging
than the slurs and behavior they dispense, because their
closed mindedness blocks off a chance for he/she to experience
fruitful relationships with otherness. Meanwhile for the
victim, he/she is emotionally traumatized and will be hesitant
to engage with anyone of the instigator's culture- so no
one wins. One is left without "going outside the box
of otherness" while the other will be frightful "to
push the limits of the social envelope" and find someone
else to redeem the instigator's ill behavior. I'd like to
demonstrate these ideas in what I call my cause/effect formula
of racism and eracism:
If you have a prejudiced person (-) interacting (x) with
a tolerant person (+) then the outcome (=) will be a (-)
negative experience for both parties. However if a positive
person (+) interacts (x) with another (+) person then the
outcome (=) will be beneficial (+) for both parties. The
negativity that blossoms from the failed interaction can
be explained by the supremacist paradigms infused into an
initially positive mind (+) and thus rendering (=) it to
be (-) contaminated. As mathematics goes a (-) (x)( -) equals
a (=), but in the real world it only institutionalizes more
ignorance.
My formula can be applied to Countee Cullen's, famous Black
poet, poem "Incident" that details the harsh duality
of racism:
"Once riding
in old Baltimore, heart-filled, head filled-with glee,
I saw a Baltimorean, kept looking straight
at me. Now I was eight and very small, and he was no whit
bigger, and so I smiled, but he poked out his tongue, and
called me, 'nigger.' I saw the whole of Baltimore from
May until December; of all the things that happened there,
that's all that I can remember"
(Cullen 398).
The
poet (+) engaged (x) with the White child (-) however the
poet's friendliness (=) was not reciprocated (-). Unfortunately
notions of segregation passed on to the White child have
crippled his capacity for social interaction with otherness
and left the Black child with a lasting apprehensiveness
towards Whiteness-racism works as a double-edged sword
... it literally cuts both the oppressor and the oppressed.
Yet,
there is always an optimistic ray of sunshine after the
storms of racism have passed. One can eliminate the
continuation of the oppressor/oppressed relationship by
examining their culture's beliefs of otherness. If an individual's
culture has historically played the role of the oppressor,
one cannot automatically assume
he/she will be welcomed into oppressed cultures.
Social optimists should be aware of the historical and social
hurt that has been previously caused by their forefathers,
then they can make earnest attempts to right the wrong of
the past. They can't afford to alienate themselves from
these minority groups as their descendants had previously
done. Meanwhile, the oppressed must lay aside the wreckage
of the past and be receptive to the majority's "good-willed"
advances, since they too cannot afford to alienate themselves.
As a member of the latter, often I have misjudged and reiterated
the very thing I most despise-blinded ignorance.
For example,
my mother was getting her security system installed and
I started talking to the installers. I figured
I had to enlighten them, since they were severely "Ole
boyish." To my surprise, I was the misguided one and
after our conversation I was forced to confront my beliefs
of the Southern White male. Chris, who was about nineteen,
said he had grown up in one of the hearts of Klan country:
North Louisiana. Chris said, "My grandparents told
me I shouldn't put my lips on the drinking fountain, 'cause
Black people also drink there.' But I still drank there,
hell we're all the same if you ask me. It's not like your
lips are any different than mine, so I just pretended to
go along with it while I was living with my grandparents.
They don't know any better, they grew up in a different
time than ours." I was dumbfounded.
I (the formerly oppressed) had to change my derogatory
opinions and perceptions of Southern Whiteness like Chris
had to dismiss the unwarranted notions his grandparent
taught him of Blackness. The oppressed as well as the oppressor
are obligated to empty out the stereotypes and fears engrained
into their consciousness about each other's culture to
eventually become empty vessels with a desire for diversity
instead of uniformity.
Secondly, the biggest mountain we must climb is the rugged
path to racial equality. The path is corroded with sharp
jagged stones, but it can still be climbed. As tolerant
thinkers we must assert ourselves in reaffirming what the
Declaration of Independence "supposedly" adheres
to that "all men are created equal, that they are endowed
by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among
these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness."
Therefore, we must support, uplift, and inspire each other
to actively pursue racial tolerance. Our constitution dictates
to this equalitarian ideal to everyone, but it still has
been relentlessly ignored-which is one of the pivotal
factors why racism still exists today. As Dr. King
once said, "Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice
everywhere," therefore we can't simply behave as bystanders
and only take offense to prejudice when it is directed towards
us, all discrimination should be personal. Gloria Anzaldua's,
Mexican literary theorist, Borderlands-La Frontera: The
New Mestiza lays out a blueprint for racial equality. She
calls the multicultural visionary a mestiza/mestizo, because
he/she is willing to abandon their own xenophobia to interact
with other ethnicities. Anzaldua writes, " It is imperative
that Mestizas support each other ... as long as Woman [man]
is put down, the Indian and the Black in us all is put down"
(2217). We as "mestizas" must be more grounded
with pursuits of justice than a fickle bystander that joins
a lynching mob or a cop who stands while his fellow officers
brutalize a minority. We cannot be passive about our purpose,
we must actively pursue it, because these racist institutions
all possess one trait: unity in alienating the familiar
(minorities) into the unfamiliar.
In order to pursue our passionate yearnings for a more
colorblind America, we must first realize the miracle
has to start with the way we think and act when encountering
otherness. According to Anzaldua, "The future will
belong to the mestiza. Because the future depends on the
breaking down of paradigms, it depends on the straddling
of two or more cultures. By creating a new mythos that
is a change in the way we perceive reality, the way we
see ourselves and the ways we behave" (2214). We can
all be emblems shining through the intolerant darkness,
because the veil has been taken off of our eyes striking
within us the urge to act against the belief that "this
is simply the way things are." Instead, we are pressed
to demonstrate "the way things should be." This
social movement can be practiced in the simplest and
most personal situations with our friendships, loved
ones, and
associates. Simply by practicing civility to any particular
person, outside or inside our culture, we can make what
the mainstream deems as impossible ... possible within
our own communities.
In my own life I have made friends with individuals from
various cultures and religions. Keyon, my close friend
from Iran, has been my dearest friend since 5th grade
and we both attended college together. After 9/11, our
friendship
got even closer as I told Keyon I wasn't going to look
differently on his Middle Eastern heritage or his Islamic
religion, because his uniqueness, like my own, mixes
deliciously within America's melting pot. He told me
of the confrontations
he would have to face towards his faith and culture,
yet my tolerance toward him, showed Keyon that not every
Christian
American was against him-I refused to cast the first
stone. On that tragic day in America's history, Keyon
and I had
practiced intercultural beliefs by changing our preconceived
thoughts to collectively discuss and dispel prejudice.
Like
Keyon and myself, we as social optimists must see past the
physical appearance and judge others not by the assumptions
connected to their skin color, but by what really matters:
their notable attributes. In the process of building an
intercultural element, we must embrace the splendor of our
own ethnicity immersed with all the dazzling cultures that
envelope it, given that our race is not our biological identity,
but a social construct used to identify the various physical
characteristics of an individual. Monique Wittig's, feminist
theorist, "One is Not Born AWoman," argues that
race is just a word used to mark the differences in an individual's
appearance; "Race, exactly like sex, is taken as an
'immediate given,' a 'sensible given,' 'physical features,'
belonging to a natural order. But what we believe to be
a physical and direct perception is only a sophisticated
and mythic construction, an 'imaginary foundation' which
reinterprets physical features" (2016). I'd like to
illustrate an example:
During one semester, I was talking to Angela, a Black friend,
about a religion class I had enrolled in. I told her the
teacher had a few seats available and that she should try
and get in. "How many Black people are in it?"
I knew where this was leading, so I said, "A few."
"A few, what's your definition of a few, you and me."
"No, but does it really matter?" "Yeah it
matters. With you I can understand that because it makes
no difference, but I feel more comfortable around other
Black people, I can't handle that like you can."
To myself I said, "You're in a bad predicament if you
can't look past color"-this is one of the stigmas
of oppression ... it leaks through to even to our contemporary
generation. Regardless, today is a new day and old
woes don't permit anyone to spend their life in an exclusive
single-colored bubble. If one can't handle being with
a few cultures, how can he/she adapt to a world filled with
thousands of them? Angela, like many others, has refused
to rebel against the boundaries that others have allowed
race to confine them in. These repressed individuals must
assert themselves by actively abandoning the social constructs
engrained in them to segregate themselves from others based
on varying physical traits. As free-thinkers, we have already
disciplined ourselves to change the negative racial paradigms
passed on by our forefathers such as the relentless cliche,
"People feel most comfortable around those of the same
race."
Closed-minded
opinions such as this one, inevitably sum up a reoccurring
mental handicap: fear of the unknown or unfamiliar. However,
this fear is different from a bone chilling horror movie
or bumps in the night; it's a fear rooted in ignorance,
a close minded ignorance that does not ask questions or
try to entertain the unknown. Deep down in our unconsciousness,
we know that we all have more similarities than differences.
However, in the consciousness we still make racial barriers.
In Sigmund Freud's, renowned psychoanalysis, Uncanny the
familiar "is something which is secretly familiar,
which has undergone repression and then returned from it,
and that everything that is uncanny fulfills this condition"
(947). Basically, racism strives because its easier to swallow
the guilt of superiority when one is able to label their
counterparts with such classifications as good/evil, pretty/ugly,
industrious/ lazy and civilized/savage thus segregating
the familiar (the universal human condition) into the unfamiliar
(distanced human condition). As human beings there shouldn't
be any room for the unfamiliar founded by the irrational
belief systems of skin color. We all may be a part of different
cultures, but that doesn't mean we are a different species
from one another! We all have the same desires to enjoy
the richness oflife and the bountiful blessings it bestows,
however we still deprive others from tasting its luscious
fruits by making their culture feel like an unwanted outsider,
so that we can distinguish ourselves as the familiar, the
norm, and the accepted. Anzaldua writes, "The mestizo
strengthens herlhis tolerance for ambiguity. She/he is willing
to share, to make himself/herself vulnerable to foreign
ways of seeing and thinking. Shelhe surrenders all notions
of safety of the familiar" (2216).
Another
illustration if you will:
While at the library I was talking to Sabhie, an Indian
friend, and we were discussing racism within our own cultures.
Sabhie, who prides himself on having a collection of multi-cultural
friends, told me that other Indians were looking down on
him for having interracial friendships. One day an Indian
student confronted Sabhie, because he was talking to a Black
girl. He told him, "She is a Black, why are you associating
with her so much?" Sabie replied, "Because she
is a human being like me."
Sabhie
is daring to confront his culture's fears of otherness and
push the limits of the social envelope. Similar to Freud's
analysis, Sabhie has reconnected his consciousness (familiar)
and his unconsciousness (unfamiliar) to obtain a fearless
perspective on social interaction with otherness. Sandra
Cisceros', Mexican fiction writer, The House on Mango Street
addresses this unwarranted xenophobia. Esperanza, a young
Mexican girl, talks about those of others races that come
into her all Hispanic neighborhood.
"Those who don't know any better come into our neighborhood
scared. They think we're dangerous. They think we will attack
them with shiny knives. They are stupid people who are lost
and got here by mistake. But we aren't afraid ... all brown
around, we are safe. But watch us drive into a neighborhood
of another color and our knees go shakity-shake and our
car windows get rolled up tight and our eyes look straight.
Yeah, that is how it goes and goes" (Cisneros, 28).
These
fears continue to sharpen racism's double edged sword, since
they function in leaving mental lacerations on the part
of the group that is being viewed as frightful. Ill-perceived
cultures bear the burden of not only respectfully wearing
the garments of their culture, but also the irritating wool
of stereotypes that have illegitimately been sown within
their ethnic fabric-their double consciousness. Referred
to in W.E.B. Du Bois' great Black philosopher, The
Souls of Black Folk, as "the veil" which
serves as a mirror that allows the oppressed to perceive
their own identity in relation to the dominant culture's
definitions of their people. Du Bois describes the veil/double
consciousness as a second sight that is the result of divisions
between Whiteness and Blackness, "One ever feels his
twonessan American, a Negro; two souls, two thoughts, two
un-reconciled strivings; two warrings ideal in one dark
body, whose dogged strength alone keeps it from being tom
asunder ... He simply wishes to make it possible for a man
to be both a Negro and an American, without being cursed
and spit upon by his fellows, without having the doors of
Opportunity closed roughly in his face (978). Nearly everyday
I am aware of my double consciousness, yet while I was jogging
with Nga, a Vietnamese friend, I was able to see the stings
of racism go deeper than just Black and White:
We were jogging across a lake when we noticed some ducks.
I told her I
had always wanted a pet duck, so Nga says, "Hey
there is one by those houses, I dare you to try and catch
it!" I turned to her with a stern look, "Are
you out of your mind, I'm Black! They will think I'm trying
to steal it and lock me up underneath the jail."
Nga started laughing and said, "Oh, yeah, well they
will think I'm trying to eat it. You know they say Asian
will eat anything."
Nga and I are
both open-minded individuals seeking diversity; however,
each of us still knows the stereotypes our cultures
have wrongly been labeled by. Even though we joked around
about these racial generalizations, they still remarkably
are used to identify our misconstrued cultures. To dissolve
these issues, we must confront the oppressor/oppressed
roles that have labeled on our cultures, Anzaldua asserts, "To
say you're split yourself from minority groups, that you
disown us, that your dual consciousness splits off parts
of yourself, transferring the "negative" parts
onto us where persuasion of minorities, there is a shadow
projection ... accept the doppelganger in your psyche.
By taking back your collective shadow the intercultural
split will heal (2219).
Lastly in hopes of making our intercultural beliefs obtainable,
we must unite together for something that is greater than
ourselves, but weak enough to need our faith to function.
As social optimists we have to believe racial tolerance
is possible and that nothing including culture, dialect,
religion, gender, or sexuality will defeat its purpose.
Only once in my life was I able to experience this Utopian
society take flight, it occurred while I was in high school.
Luckily I attended a school that encompassed several different
fascinating and intriguing cultures. As we all enjoyed
each other's company, we proved that race was nothing more
than a difference in skin color and could not stop us from
making meaningful relationships. There was Phi (Vietnamese/Buddhist),
Sailatha (Indian/Hindu), Sandra (African/Christian), Stephanie
(White/ Catholic), Jay (West Indian/Christian), Chris (White/Jehovah
Witness), Devannon (Black/Baptist) Shelezza (South American/Hindu)
and Rachel (White/Jewish).
Our
friendships made me wonder, "Was this the way life
was always supposed to be?" Even though my friends
were of different cultures and faiths, we never joined together
to battle over what culture could out "race" the
other. The bonds we made crossed racial barriers and resonated
the prophesy of Dr. Martin Luther's Kings Jr's "I Have
A Dream" speech:
"I have a dream that my four little children will one
day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the
color of their skin, but by the content of their character
... when all God's children, Black men and White men, Jews
and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to
join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual,
'Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty, we are
free at last!" (King 252).
My friends and I brought Dr. King's words into a living
reality, but it is now up to us to continue this legacy.
Before we can change the outside world, we must initially
change our cultural belief systems and social interactions
with otherness. Although changing our preconceived thoughts
and those of others is a cumbersome process, the ends will
greatly justify our means to demystify racial notions. For
without such ideals like striving for equality and being
receptive towards otherness, our efforts will be of no avail.
As Anzaldua says, "The struggle has always been inner,
and played out in the outer terrains.
Awareness
of our situation must come before inner changes, which in
turn comes before changes in society. Nothing happens in
the "real" world unless it first happens in the
images in our heads." (2220).
Works
Cited:
1. Anzaldua, Gloria. Borderlands. The Norton Anthology
of Theory and Criticism. Ed. Vincent B. Leitch. New York:
Norton, 2001.
2. Cullen, Countee. "Incident." African-American
Literature. I est ed. Ed. Al Young.
3. Cisneros, Sandra. The House on Mango Street.
Houston: Arte Publico Press, 1985
4. Freud, Sigman. The Uncanny. The Norton Anthology of
Theory and Criticism. Ed. Vincent B.
Leitch. New York: Norton, 2001.
5. Du Bois, W.E.B. The Souls of Black Folk. The Norton
Anthology of Theory and Criticism. Ed.
Vincent B. Leitch. New York: Norton, 2001.
6. King, Martin. "I Have A Dream." Lincoln Memorial.
Washington. 28 Aug. 1963 7. Wittig's, Monique. "One
is Not Born AWoman."
The Norton Anthology of Theory and Criticism.
Ed. Vincent B. Leitch. New York: Norton, 2001.
Bea Gyimah resides in Baton Rouge, LA.
