Why Can’t We Talk About Race?

U.S. Attorney General Eric Holder

U.S. Attorney General Eric Holder created what some consider to be a firestorm of controversy when he referred to the U.S. as “a nation of cowards” on matters of race. I listened to one particular pundit on television, a presidential historian, who thought Holder was out of line and going contrary to the Obama brand with his choice of words. And then another who thought Holder’s decision to use the term “coward” instead of something more politically correct, accomplished what the attorney general set out to do, which is start a dialogue about race. The first pundit, I think, failed to realize that throughout the campaign, Obama said he would always be honest with us. So I don’t think Holder tarnished the Obama brand. His honesty was on message. 

Unfortunately, too many people got hung up on that one phrase and missed the point. While the attorney general’s remarks helped to launch a dialogue about race, it was mistakenly in the context of whether or not we’re a bunch of cowards.

To get to a meaningful dialogue about race we first have to admit that the person next to us who looks different than us is just as human as we are. Even people who share the same skin tone as ours have different life experiences. 

The first time I recognized the diversity among people in my own race happened about 20 years ago during an incident involving a relative at a softball game in Galion, OH, an all white community. My cousin Daryl had come up from Birmingham to visit for a couple of weeks. Daryl and I had a lot in common, including a love for sports. I played short stop and never thought there would be a problem when I invited her to go to Galion where the game was being played to watch me play. After all, I was used to being among the minority. But Daryl wasn’t. As we drove into the parking lot she looked at me and said, “Girl, look at all these white people!” I explained to her what I knew about Galion, including the folklore that a black person was once hanged in the town square. She was so frightened she refused to get out of the car and demanded that I take her back home to Crestline, which was 10 miles away. And so I did, which caused me to miss the first three innings of the game.

It wasn’t until later that I understood Daryl’s fear. She had grown up in Birmingham. She had seen first-hand racial discrimination. She lived the Jim Crow era. I didn’t. As a result, that shaped her thinking of White America. 

As I grew up I often thought about Daryl’s experiences and those of my own. I remember embracing my blackness as a blessing. Not once did I ever think I was better than anyone else but I always knew I was just as good as anyone else, including White people. It doesn’t mean that I never got angry when I found myself in situations that were purely driven by racial discrimination. Frankly, I viewed it as their loss. I also felt there was nothing I could do personally to change their preception of me except to be me.

So thinking about Holder’s comments, I start to wonder, how does a person like my cousin Daryl begin to have a frank conversation about race when so much of her past experience tells her to stay in her comfort zone, i.e., amongst her own kind? Sadly, it’s where most of us are when it comes to race. In his speech, Holder stated that if we are to make progress on race “we must  feel comfortable enough with one another, and tolerant enough of each other, to have frank conversations about the racial matters that continue to divide us.” That means moving out of our comfort zones to seek new experiences that involve people different from ourselves. It also means we must eliminate our own preconceived notions about people from different races. 

This country is becoming more and more diverse. We are right at the edge of minorities becoming the majority. It behooves us to embrace our diversity and look for ways to use it to our advantage. That’s how we make this a great country and how we make ourselves better people. Those who are crippled by fear and afraid of change will continue to be left behind. The change of this nation will pass them by. It is imperative for their survival that they rebuke the self-imposed fear and insert themselves into situations that create opportunities for personal, professional and spiritual growth. That is, if they want to become a better person or face the frustrations of what is going on around them. 

After President Obama’s speech on race in Philadelphia last summer, a columnist for the Chicago Tribune attempted to start a dialogue on race. I read some of the comments and wished so badly that the people posting comments to her blog would stay focused on the intent, which was a meaningful dialogue. Too often I read comments from people who didn’t appear to want to engage in meaningful dialogue and I suspect it was because the possibility of the U.S. electing it’s first African American president was becoming a reality. That was scary for some people.

Now that the new reality has come, I wonder if people will start to view racial matters from a different perspective. Can we get beyond President Obama’s skin tone and see him as an effective leader, a human being? 56% of the people who voted in this country managed to do that on November 4. Is it possible that the entire country can have what I call, a “collective experience on race” that helps to reshape our thinking, foster greater understanding and tolerance for people different from ourselves? It’s an awesome opportunity to maximize the possibilities.