Recently The New York Times published a controversial editorial by Margaret Renkle.
Then Twitterers made it even more controversial by selectively Tweeting specific passages. For example, Hend Amry provided this excerpt, If you're a white liberal whose goal is to foster a more equitable culture, you need to stop yelling "Racist" at anyone who doesn't see the world as exactly you do.
When I saw that, my immediate assumption was the editorial took the nauseating stance that the left is the truly intolerant bunch, because we don't tolerate racists, homophobes, misogynists, bible thumpers, etc.
But another Twitterer spoke up and said the article wasn't actually like that.
So I went ahead and read.
Here's another excerpt from the same editorial:
I have exhausted my ability to understand why, deep into the 21st century, I’m still hearing otherwise good-hearted people use the same arguments that white Southerners used to discredit “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” more than 150 years ago: It couldn’t possibly have been that bad. But worse in many ways are the white people who will tell you point blank that the world today — the world they actually live in and can see with their own eyes — can’t possibly be as unfair as black people say it is.
Does that sound like someone who believes that those of us on the left are the real problem?
No. I don't think so.
In reading Renkle's editorial in its entirety, my understanding is that her point isn't for the left to be nicer to people who are racists, so life is not so damn hard for triggered racist snowflakes. The point is to be nicer to people who are racist in hopes that our kindness will cause these people to become less racist. If they are less racist, life gets better for EVERYONE.
It does work sometimes.
I've seen the tearjerker stories of bigots crossing over to the good side.
For example, there's the woman who left the Westboro church; and her journey of righteousness began with a Twitter conversation.
That's an extreme case, and Renkle doesn't hold out much hope for these types of people. She says:
Such unrepentant racists will probably never come to understand the harm they have done and are doing to this country, much less the harm they are doing to their own souls. Every minute of public outrage feeds their hunger for validation. Ignore those people. When this episode of “The Ugly American” is finally canceled, they’ll crawl back into their hidy-holes again.
Renkle wants us to concentrate on the less severe cases. She gives examples—people who voted for Trump; those who post Obama jokes on Facebook; and someone who get nervous on airplanes when they see Middle Eastern people.
What she doesn't give is ideas on HOW to talk to these people when they say something racist.
Well, she does give some vague advice—take a deep breath and think about our own prejudices and racist feelings.
I guess that makes sense. Remember we're not perfect either. Or remember mistakes we made in the past.
I can do that. Maybe that will give me some empathy. And MAYBE my empathy will help make the world a better place.
But what do I say???!!!
And how do I say something that's actually helpful and not just my mouth forming obligatory words that make me feel like a proper woke person?
I was in a family text when someone vented about some problems they were having. They mentioned that one of the people causing them grief was black. The man's ethnicity was completely irrelevant to the story.
My plan of handling it: Passive-aggressiveness. I simply wouldn't respond to her venting. I wouldn't provide a sympathetic text back.
Another member of my family wrote me privately and expressed disapproval of the text. She said she wanted to speak up. I'm ashamed to say I advised her not to.
WHY would I do this?
Because of my past experiences with my family.
What I have experienced is that when I speak up about certain things, it often makes things worse. There's no reduction in the thing I've spoken up against. In fact, it seems sometimes there's an increase. They end up saying things just to push my buttons.
I imagined if I spoke up, they would later say more racist things, and then they would add an, Oh, oops. We shouldn't say these things in front of Dina. And this wouldn't be said with heartfelt compassion and/or concern. It would be said with a sly grin or other sort of smug expression.
The family member I advised was brave. She not only spoke up. She spoke up despite my cowardly advice. I was proud of her for this, and I also like what she said. She said something simple and non-confrontational. I think it was something like, I'm not sure what the color of his skin had to do with anything.
No one said anything after that...well, besides me. I responded with an amen. I was thanked for the amen, and I told my brave family member that if we can't be the one who's brave enough to speak up first, we should at least show support for the one who has.
So far I haven't seen any teasing regarding what she said—to her face or behind her back. So maybe my worries were ungrounded.
Still. it's early yet. The teasing might come later. And even if it doesn't, has the racism of the particular person been reduced? Has anything changed for the better?
I don't know.
A cynical part of me is thinking the only really good thing my family member did with their text is impress ME with their courage.
But I might be wrong. I hope I'm wrong.
So what should we say and do when someone in our life says something racist?
Is passive-aggressive silence sometimes okay?
Well, it's not the best choice. But I think it's a big step above laughing along, agreeing with the racist comment, adding your own raciest "evidence" to the conversation, and other such enablers.
Sometimes a stony silence is an effective form of communication.
Sometimes speaking up helps, I'm sure. If anything, it can make people feel less safe to say these things. It might shrink their audience. Those in our close social circle might feel comfortable to continue saying these things in front of us. They might even say these things with the sole intent to trigger us. BUT maybe our discomfort might make them more hesitant about saying these things in front of a more general audience. They might realize that if they're close friend or relative doesn't like these racist statements, maybe the people they're trying to befriend and/or impress might not be keen either.
I can't promise that I'll always choose speaking up over silence. But if I do decide to say something, I might work with a learning experience I had recently.
I received an email from someone that seemed to be in the midst of a paranoid-delusional state.
I wanted to respond but didn't know what to say. I didn't want to say the wrong thing and make things worse.
So I Googled.
I found this article.
It says don't ignore the delusion. Don't play along with the delusion. And don't try to convince the person that they are deluded.
Instead...ask questions! Try to get more information. Doing this might help to break the spell that the person is under. Or as the author of the article says: Most importantly, it forces the individual to articulate how they came to reach their conclusions, which opens the door to the possibility that they’ll recognize the failings of their own logic
I was quite glad the article had this advice, because I had been actually wanting to ask questions. I was quite curious.
I did this, and I think it worked pretty well.
I don't think I miraculously cured the person who emailed me. But I DID get to satisfy my curiosity. And in further emails, the person seemed slightly less delusional. It was as if my questions opened her mind up to other possibilities.
SO....
I'm thinking this strategy might also work with people who say racist and/or other offensive things.
We have to ask the right questions, of course. Otherwise, we could make things even worse.
For example, with the person venting who felt the need to mention skin color. What if I had said, Oh. Yikes! What did he do that was so annoying?
I think by inviting her to vent more, I'm pretty much saying I'm okay with her saying something racist. She might even get the idea that I share her racist beliefs.
What could I ask that might be helpful?
Well, this person had also added one of those annoying disclaimers. I forgot exactly. But maybe it was, This might sound racist but....
So, I could have asked, Do you think it's racist to mention someone's race when complaining about them?
Other ideas:
Do you think his skin color causes him to be rude, annoying, unhelpful, etc?
Why do you feel it's important to mention his race?
Do you think if he was white he'd be a better person?
I'm not in love with these questions, because all but one are yes and no questions. I think more open-ended questions are probably better.
So maybe I'd go with the third one: Why do you feel it's important to mention his race?
I'm trying to imagine their response and how I'd respond.
One response I imagine is, I was just giving some background of the story. There's no need to make a big deal about it.
Then I might respond with. Oh. Okay. So are there any other details you feel the need to provide. What was the race of the other people you were dealing with that day? What color hair did they have? Eye color? Shoes? Did they wear socks? Did any of them have bad breath? Facial hair? Did you find out if they prefer cats or dogs?
I don't know. I'm actually not getting the idea that this would help reduce any racism.
BUT, you know what. It would make me feel clever and (at least temporarily) superior. And sometimes that IS enough.
That being said, I probably need to come up with questions that are more thought-provoking and less confrontational and sarcastic.
Then Twitterers made it even more controversial by selectively Tweeting specific passages. For example, Hend Amry provided this excerpt, If you're a white liberal whose goal is to foster a more equitable culture, you need to stop yelling "Racist" at anyone who doesn't see the world as exactly you do.
When I saw that, my immediate assumption was the editorial took the nauseating stance that the left is the truly intolerant bunch, because we don't tolerate racists, homophobes, misogynists, bible thumpers, etc.
But another Twitterer spoke up and said the article wasn't actually like that.
So I went ahead and read.
Here's another excerpt from the same editorial:
I have exhausted my ability to understand why, deep into the 21st century, I’m still hearing otherwise good-hearted people use the same arguments that white Southerners used to discredit “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” more than 150 years ago: It couldn’t possibly have been that bad. But worse in many ways are the white people who will tell you point blank that the world today — the world they actually live in and can see with their own eyes — can’t possibly be as unfair as black people say it is.
Does that sound like someone who believes that those of us on the left are the real problem?
No. I don't think so.
In reading Renkle's editorial in its entirety, my understanding is that her point isn't for the left to be nicer to people who are racists, so life is not so damn hard for triggered racist snowflakes. The point is to be nicer to people who are racist in hopes that our kindness will cause these people to become less racist. If they are less racist, life gets better for EVERYONE.
It does work sometimes.
I've seen the tearjerker stories of bigots crossing over to the good side.
For example, there's the woman who left the Westboro church; and her journey of righteousness began with a Twitter conversation.
That's an extreme case, and Renkle doesn't hold out much hope for these types of people. She says:
Such unrepentant racists will probably never come to understand the harm they have done and are doing to this country, much less the harm they are doing to their own souls. Every minute of public outrage feeds their hunger for validation. Ignore those people. When this episode of “The Ugly American” is finally canceled, they’ll crawl back into their hidy-holes again.
Renkle wants us to concentrate on the less severe cases. She gives examples—people who voted for Trump; those who post Obama jokes on Facebook; and someone who get nervous on airplanes when they see Middle Eastern people.
What she doesn't give is ideas on HOW to talk to these people when they say something racist.
Well, she does give some vague advice—take a deep breath and think about our own prejudices and racist feelings.
I guess that makes sense. Remember we're not perfect either. Or remember mistakes we made in the past.
I can do that. Maybe that will give me some empathy. And MAYBE my empathy will help make the world a better place.
But what do I say???!!!
And how do I say something that's actually helpful and not just my mouth forming obligatory words that make me feel like a proper woke person?
I was in a family text when someone vented about some problems they were having. They mentioned that one of the people causing them grief was black. The man's ethnicity was completely irrelevant to the story.
My plan of handling it: Passive-aggressiveness. I simply wouldn't respond to her venting. I wouldn't provide a sympathetic text back.
Another member of my family wrote me privately and expressed disapproval of the text. She said she wanted to speak up. I'm ashamed to say I advised her not to.
WHY would I do this?
Because of my past experiences with my family.
What I have experienced is that when I speak up about certain things, it often makes things worse. There's no reduction in the thing I've spoken up against. In fact, it seems sometimes there's an increase. They end up saying things just to push my buttons.
I imagined if I spoke up, they would later say more racist things, and then they would add an, Oh, oops. We shouldn't say these things in front of Dina. And this wouldn't be said with heartfelt compassion and/or concern. It would be said with a sly grin or other sort of smug expression.
The family member I advised was brave. She not only spoke up. She spoke up despite my cowardly advice. I was proud of her for this, and I also like what she said. She said something simple and non-confrontational. I think it was something like, I'm not sure what the color of his skin had to do with anything.
No one said anything after that...well, besides me. I responded with an amen. I was thanked for the amen, and I told my brave family member that if we can't be the one who's brave enough to speak up first, we should at least show support for the one who has.
So far I haven't seen any teasing regarding what she said—to her face or behind her back. So maybe my worries were ungrounded.
Still. it's early yet. The teasing might come later. And even if it doesn't, has the racism of the particular person been reduced? Has anything changed for the better?
I don't know.
A cynical part of me is thinking the only really good thing my family member did with their text is impress ME with their courage.
But I might be wrong. I hope I'm wrong.
So what should we say and do when someone in our life says something racist?
Is passive-aggressive silence sometimes okay?
Well, it's not the best choice. But I think it's a big step above laughing along, agreeing with the racist comment, adding your own raciest "evidence" to the conversation, and other such enablers.
Sometimes a stony silence is an effective form of communication.
Sometimes speaking up helps, I'm sure. If anything, it can make people feel less safe to say these things. It might shrink their audience. Those in our close social circle might feel comfortable to continue saying these things in front of us. They might even say these things with the sole intent to trigger us. BUT maybe our discomfort might make them more hesitant about saying these things in front of a more general audience. They might realize that if they're close friend or relative doesn't like these racist statements, maybe the people they're trying to befriend and/or impress might not be keen either.
I can't promise that I'll always choose speaking up over silence. But if I do decide to say something, I might work with a learning experience I had recently.
I received an email from someone that seemed to be in the midst of a paranoid-delusional state.
I wanted to respond but didn't know what to say. I didn't want to say the wrong thing and make things worse.
So I Googled.
I found this article.
It says don't ignore the delusion. Don't play along with the delusion. And don't try to convince the person that they are deluded.
Instead...ask questions! Try to get more information. Doing this might help to break the spell that the person is under. Or as the author of the article says: Most importantly, it forces the individual to articulate how they came to reach their conclusions, which opens the door to the possibility that they’ll recognize the failings of their own logic
I was quite glad the article had this advice, because I had been actually wanting to ask questions. I was quite curious.
I did this, and I think it worked pretty well.
I don't think I miraculously cured the person who emailed me. But I DID get to satisfy my curiosity. And in further emails, the person seemed slightly less delusional. It was as if my questions opened her mind up to other possibilities.
SO....
I'm thinking this strategy might also work with people who say racist and/or other offensive things.
We have to ask the right questions, of course. Otherwise, we could make things even worse.
For example, with the person venting who felt the need to mention skin color. What if I had said, Oh. Yikes! What did he do that was so annoying?
I think by inviting her to vent more, I'm pretty much saying I'm okay with her saying something racist. She might even get the idea that I share her racist beliefs.
What could I ask that might be helpful?
Well, this person had also added one of those annoying disclaimers. I forgot exactly. But maybe it was, This might sound racist but....
So, I could have asked, Do you think it's racist to mention someone's race when complaining about them?
Other ideas:
Do you think his skin color causes him to be rude, annoying, unhelpful, etc?
Why do you feel it's important to mention his race?
Do you think if he was white he'd be a better person?
I'm not in love with these questions, because all but one are yes and no questions. I think more open-ended questions are probably better.
So maybe I'd go with the third one: Why do you feel it's important to mention his race?
I'm trying to imagine their response and how I'd respond.
One response I imagine is, I was just giving some background of the story. There's no need to make a big deal about it.
Then I might respond with. Oh. Okay. So are there any other details you feel the need to provide. What was the race of the other people you were dealing with that day? What color hair did they have? Eye color? Shoes? Did they wear socks? Did any of them have bad breath? Facial hair? Did you find out if they prefer cats or dogs?
I don't know. I'm actually not getting the idea that this would help reduce any racism.
BUT, you know what. It would make me feel clever and (at least temporarily) superior. And sometimes that IS enough.
That being said, I probably need to come up with questions that are more thought-provoking and less confrontational and sarcastic.