More Thought on Systemic Racism

Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced. – James Baldwin

I'm reading Caste: The Origins of Our Discontents by Isabel Wilkerson and wanted to share the section below. You may find this disturbing to read, as was I. But then I thought more about it and realized that this was only 70 years ago. And I say only, because I was born in 1947, which means that this was the culture I was born into without even realizing it.

You may think: Well things are different now. I think this. We can pass laws that prohibit discrimination, but we cannot pass a law that changes a person’s heart or mind or eliminates Systemic Racism. I think there are people my age that still believe that there was nothing wrong with this and that the lifeguards were magnanimous under the circumstances. Please read and think.

"In 1951, a Little League baseball team in Youngstown, Ohio, won the city championship. The coaches, unthinkingly, decided to celebrate with a team picnic at a municipal pool. When the team arrived at the gate, a lifeguard stopped one of the Little Leaguers from entering. It was Al Bright, the only black player on the team. His parents had not been able to attend the picnic, and the coaches and some of the other parents tried to persuade the pool officials to let the little boy in, to no avail.

The only thing the lifeguards were willing to do was to let them set a blanket for him outside the fence and to let people bring him food. He was given little choice and had to watch his teammates splash in the water and chase each other on the pool deck while he sat alone on the outside.

From time to time, one or another of the players or adults came out and sat with him before returning to join the others, his childhood friend, the author Mel Watkins, would write years later. It took an hour or so for a team official to finally convince the lifeguards that they should at least allow the child into the pool for a few minutes. The supervisor agreed to let the Little Leaguer in, but only if everyone else got out of the water, and only if Al followed the rules they set for him.

First, everyone—meaning his teammates, the parents, all the white people—had to get out of the water. Once everyone cleared out, “Al was led to the pool and placed in a small rubber raft,” Watkins wrote. A lifeguard got into the water and pushed the raft with Al in it for a single turn around the pool, as a hundred or so teammates, coaches, parents, and onlookers watched from the sidelines. After the “agonizing few minutes” that it took to complete the circle, Al was then “escorted to his assigned spot” on the other side of the fence.

During his short time in the raft, as it glided on the surface, the lifeguard warned him over and over again of one important rule “Just don’t touch the water,” the lifeguard said, as he pushed the rubber float. “Whatever you do, don’t touch the water.”

A part of that little boy died that afternoon. When one of the coaches offered him a ride home, he declined. “With champion trophy in hand,” Watkins wrote, Al walked the mile or so back home by himself. He was never the same after that."

Linda McKenney
September 14, 2021

Overview of Systemic Racism

An Overview of Systemic Racism

by Linda McKenney, July 19, 2021

I grew up in a white, largely Catholic, small town. Right across the river was a mixed-race city, where we did most of our shopping. When I made my purchases in the popular department stores, I never wondered why all of the other shoppers were also white. The only person of color I did see was the elevator operator. My girlfriends and I would try on our plaid wool skirts and mohair sweaters, not aware that a person of color wasn’t allowed to try on clothes, if they could even afford to shop in those stores.

There were no persons of color in my town, and I never questioned that. I didn’t know, as a child, that there were forces in that town consistently preventing anyone of color from moving into it. Most of the homes were two-family and often occupied by more than one generation. If a flat became available, it was never advertised but rented via word-of-mouth.

We never talked about other cultures or ethnicities among family or friends. My parents never disparaged anyone of color, so looking back, I would not consider myself racist. I was one of those people who said, “I don’t see color.” I took for granted the advantages afforded to white me; government systems, affordable housing, preferential education and medical care to name a few.

I existed in my lovely bubble of white privilege unaware that I was contributing to systemic racism that created and maintained racial inequality in nearly every facet of life for people of color. Also called structural or institutional racism, it is the complex intersection of culture, policy and institutions that create the disparities we see in our communities today regarding wealth, the criminal justice system, education and health care. To better understand, let’s dig a little deeper.

One example of systemic racism in education is how the promised benefits for higher education via the G.I. Bill turned out to be an illusion for people of color. The bill enabled my father and men who looked like him to prosper in the postwar years, but didn’t deliver on that promise for veterans of color. Most universities and colleges used a quota system for enrolling people of color, which limited the number able to attend. That wide disparity in the bill’s implementation helped drive growing gaps in wealth, education and civil rights.

My parents bought their home with backing from the G.I. Bill as my father served in World War II. But when it came to housing for people of color, policies created by the Federal Housing Administration and implemented by lenders and realtors, mapped out neighborhoods according to the color of one’s skin. Those inhabited by blacks or other minorities were outlined in red on maps, commonly referred to as “redlining,” deeming them dangerous. The government's efforts were primarily designed to provide housing to white, middle-class families. People of color were left out of the new suburban communities and pushed instead into urban housing projects.

I cannot change my childhood or what I didn’t know then, but what I can do is educate myself on systemic racism. I can stumble my way forward with curiosity, because when I know better, I can be better. Learning about systemic racism and white privilege is a journey, and there are many resources to help.

The League of Women Voters NY has an upcoming presentation with Debby Irving, author of Waking Up White and Finding Myself in The Story of Race. You’ll learn more about this from League emails. But save the date – 8/17/21. https://www.debbyirving.com/

Race Forward brings systemic analysis and an innovative approach to complex race issues to help people take effective action toward racial equity. The link below is a collection of short videos that help us better understand systemic racism.
https://www.raceforward.org/videos/systemic-racism

If you wish to engage in conversation about racism and white privilege, the link below offers some tips on how to talk to family and friends.
https://www.usatoday.com/story/life/2020/07/06/how-to-guide-talk-racism-white-privilege-with-family-friends/3278514001/

“There is no social change fairy. There is only the change made by individuals.” – Winona Laduke, executive director and a co-founder (along with the Indigo Girls) of Honor the Earth.