Before I start on today’s post, here is a link to the last post in which I talked about a lot of things.
I have often thought about a good way to do DEI because so much of what exists is horrid. Or at the very best, basic. I have led DEI training in the past, and I had to cringe at how awful it was. I did not develop the training, and when I mentioned to my boss (the co-trainer and the one who roped me into doing it) that the training was not optimal, but she ignored me. She was burned out with the work because she was, in my opinion, a token for the position. That’s not the point of this post, but it made me see how defeated and demoralizing it was to be a black woman in a high position when you were not actually given any power or authority.
What I finally came up with for race, gender, and other visible minorities is totally impractical. It’s to create a town in which all the minorities were, in fact, the majority. So, straight white cis Christian men did not live there (this is in America, obviously) or were very minimal. Then, they were brought in to live there for a month. And they were treated as minorities are treated in our society.
Yes, this is what they fear, by the way. That if they were in the minority, they would be treated accordingly. Which, I don’t actually think that’s true because minorities in general are more aware of how it feels to be treated like shit.
But, my point with the town of minorities is that they would, indeed, be treated the way minorities are in the real world. Not heinously, but in the thousand little ways that minorities are undermined, stereotyped, and diminished. So their ideas would be immediately dismissed, treated as ridiculous, and patronized.
I said this would be a month-long experience, and I meant it. Why? Because anything less than that would not be enough.
When I was in college, I was heavily involved in Asian groups. And multicultural groups in general. One night, one of the Asian groups had a dinner, and I made Kung Pao Chicken. One dish I can actually make (and make well). My roommate was white, and she attended. She told me afterwards that she felt uncomfortable being one of the few white people there. And this was for a couple hours and only eating dinner (and chatting, obviously).
I don’t think a week would be enough to give someone a real feel of what it’s like. I was so frustrated when I took diversity training and my experiences were dismissed. Like I talked about being followed in a store, and other people came up with a million reasons why this might have happened.
Look.
Listen.
LISTEN.
This is the very definition of not listening to a minority. I know what racism feels like. I know it in my bones, even if I can’t describe it perfectly. Someone following me around at a store when they don’t follow white people around is racist. I know it is.
Some with me being questioned for twenty minutes by the British border guards when I unwisely answer that I was visiting my Sri Lankan boyfriend. The questions incleded, “What do your parents do for a living?” while the white guy next to me breezily declares that he has thousands of dollars on him and is not questioned a whit. He was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. I was dressed in nice pants, nice shirt, etc. I used to dress up as I traveled until I realiz-ed it didn’t matter. I was going to be ‘randomly’ searched no matter what I wore (there was a stretch in my late twenties when I got pulled out of line and ‘randomly’ searched once every leg of my travels, which meant four times per trip. And I flew every three or four months.
It’s interesting (and by interesting, I mean total bullshit) that supposedly, being the victim of discrimination makes your opinion ‘biased’. Well, yes. If I face repeated racial stereotyping, for example, of course I’ll be more able to spot it and point it out. That doesn’t make me biased–that makes me discerning.
It’s also why it’s difficult to point out privilege beacuse the person doesn’t know what life is like without it. Or rather, what it’s like to be discriminated against. Take my being followed in stores example. A white middle-aged dude is most likely not going to have that happen to him (if he is ‘normal’ in other aspects) so he may be skeptical that it happens at all.
Another example is in interviewing. There is a professional norm that is unspoken, and yet, people are meant to know it by osmosis upon entering the business world. You need to have middle class, white collar parents who are prone to talking about this kind of thing at home Oh, and Americans. My parents were middle class, but they were immigrants who came to the States (separately) to study. They met in Nashville while going to (separate) grad schools. They married and moved to Minnesota before having my brother and me.
I did not realize until much later (like a few months ago later) that my father probably did not want to stay here after getting his PhD (which took seven or eight years). I think his intentions were to come here, get his master and PhD, then go back to Taiwan.
My parents moved to MN after my father got his masters. Then he attende the U of M for his PhD. They had my brother a year after they got married and me nearly three years later.
My father hated America. He wanted nothing to do with it, and he eschewed all American culture. My mother did whatever my father wanted so she didn’participate much in American culture, either. We went to a Taiwanese church and all their friends were Taiwanese (from the church). We went to Taiwanese events and ate Taiwanese (well, Chinese) food. My brother and I demanded American food, which my father wouldn’t eat. So my mother had to cook both–Taiwanese food for my father and American food for my brother and me.
I also realized later in life that my mother did not like sewing, cooking, or cleaning, but felt she had to do it as her role as a wife/mother.
But I digress. And I’m done for the day.