Friday, April 18, 2014

RP1: How To Be An Extra Fly White Person: A User's Guide (but not really though)



I haven’t heard any white kids here at K refer to themselves as “crackers” or “honkies” yet. Honestly, I didn’t really expect to hear that here. At my old middle and high schools, however, it wouldn’t be uncommon to overhear a fellow white student in class openly talking about how much they “hate white people.” Usually, they would be talking to (or maybe at) a couple of nearby students of color who may or may not have been listening. If the white student was lamenting how “white people can’t dance,” they might even get a few laughs or a “damn, it’s true though!” from listeners. During the discussion yesterday in class, I couldn’t stop thinking about these interactions with regards to essentializing notions of race. These are just some of my thoughts on the topic.

The first thing that came to mind was how “coolness” was shaped at my school, Lincoln. Last week, I grinned ironically when Dr. Gómez talked about how terrible (I can’t remember the exact word she used) it would be to hear, “Hey, you’re all right for a white person.” I remember multiple conversations in high school about how each class seemed to have “one cool white boy” and “one cool white girl” (about 15% of the students at Lincoln were white). To me, in high school, my whiteness always seemed like a barrier to being “truly cool,” at least within the context of my school. I think this is one reason why many white students chose to say those things mentioned previously. One might say that in fact these white students honestly do hate white people and believe what they’re saying, but I think it’s telling that nearly all of these interactions were followed by laughter (either from listeners or from the white student) and the fact that I never heard anyone say any form of “I hate myself for my whiteness,” or “I hate being white.”

What I’m having trouble figuring out is whether we (white students) were attempting to distance ourselves from whiteness and white people by affirming essentializations about white people, essentially saying, “I can bash white people and not myself because I am not TRULY white,” or if we were trying to gain as many “cool points” as being white would allow by performing a kind of self-deprecating racialized act for students of color to laugh at, basically saying, “Hey! I’m white, and I’m here to testify that YES, we are all dorks and can’t play basketball. But don’t worry, I’M not uptight. I can laugh about white people too!” (I’m sorry that sentence was so long). Maybe it’s some combination of both, or neither, or something else entirely. All of these interactions carried assumptions about the students of color; that they agree with the essentialized notions about white people, that they don’t really like white people, and that they are/should be the judges of who is cool, just to name a few.

It’s interesting to reflect on what ways whiteness was “invisible” and what ways it was not at Lincoln. If you were white, you would rarely just be “cool,” you’d be a “cool white person.” However, this dynamic did not carry over to something like intelligence. At Lincoln, I never heard of any white person ever referred to as, “smart for a white person.” They would just be called “smart.” Lincoln may have only had two white principals in its history, but its teaching staff has been a white majority for a number of years. Most of the books we read in high school were by white authors. Being white and cool came with a caveat, while those other things weren’t commonly discussed, at least among students.

Love to hear some thoughts on this. Other high school experiences, how this connects to K culture, whatever.

I’M OUT

3 comments:

  1. I found this post really interesting because the atmosphere of your high school is somewhat similar to mine. Of all my year at my high school, there were usually less than 20 Caucasian students and approximately half of the teaching staff were Caucasian. The idea of someone being "cool" at my high school simply meant someone who was chill and good to hang around because they were as we say, "good peeps." In other words, cool was the nice and sociable people at our school who spread out their social circle to talk to anyone and everyone, no matter what "cliqu-looking" group they hung out with. Our school did not have cliques, although, there was always a "theme" that seemed to go with each group due to personalities, activities, fashion, etc. But like I said, if one had a good and friendly and NOT FAKE personality, they were considered cool. I've hung out, and so have all my family members and friends, with white people since we were young. I guess, we were all aware of our "race" but some of us (I can't speak for everyone) were educated that talent was not "race"-based, but there were certain dance moves that I can honestly say people in our school did not affiliate certain dances with white people--which I must admit, I have fallen into that stereotype from movies and television shows, but I had "white" friends who proved the stereotype wrong.

    On another note, I think white people who try to show people of color that they are not racist assume that the way to do is to joke and bash being white. However, I that is not ALWAYS the case. I highlight ALWAYS because once again, I cannot speak for every person of color--I'm simply speaking for myself and the people of my community, which is where I was raised, hence my views on things such as this. OK, I do not mean to sound like I'm reproducing the whole notion of "othering" or them-and-us when I'm explaining this, so please feel free to let me know if I come off that way. Actually, let me just speak for myself, because I feel that is safest when talking about this touchy topic of "race." For me, I do not want anyone to bash any part of their identity to feel that they fit in just as I do not want anyone to expect me to bash any part of my identity to fit in with them. At least where I come from, "cool points" are earned from your personality and possibly activities--such as sports. If you want me to expand on this some more, feel free to ask me in person or on here.

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  2. High school. Fun times. From my experience, it was a time where stereotypes were attached to people without shame, stupid jokes were made, and everyone was trying their absolute hardest to be something that someone would notice. Everyone wanted brownie points for doing or saying the most outrageous thing. And sometimes, as Dylan mentioned, it was played out by self-deprecation.
    Having the ability to laugh at one's self is great, it can stir humor and can be a way to make others feel comfortable. But common racial essentializations that were made throughout high school (and sometimes at K) in the name of humor really were never that funny. If a white person jokingly says "yeah, white people can't dance!" thinking that it will ultimately bring them closer to black people who stereotypically can dance, it is sad, because they are only further separating themselves. It's this idea of proving one's self that is a misconception of how to mend racial tensions. Saying "I'm an ally!" really doesn't do anyone any good. On the other hand, being open for conversation and allowing ourselves to be vulnerable to occasionally uncomfortable discussions may help actual relationships to grow, not just an audience for lame jokes.

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  3. Hey Dylan!
    I loved reading your blog post. You got a lot of wheels turning in my head. Coming here, I have also made that switch between going to a high school that was majority black to K which is majority white. Interestingly enough, when you talked about the smart white student, it got me thinking about something some people still say back home. I live in a place where having domestic help is common, and quite often, they refer to their employer (not in front of the employer) as "murungu" which translates to "white man," regardless of their race because back in the day, whiteness was associated with power, so when you said "my white person," everyone knew you were referring to your boss.
    It's sad how people feel the need to bash their own race to feel cool, and your blog made me realize that it was the need to feel accepted that made them bash their race in the first place, not necessarily that they hated their own race, but they were surrounded by people who they thought might hate it. Then I realized that a lot of people of other races do that as well. I was reading an article that talked about African American men who didn't date African American women as a matter of principle, and would often bash these women to make it apparent that they were beyond dating them. Above it all. I guess it's everywhere, huh?

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