Category Archives: racism

The Good/bad Binary

 

Barbara Trepagnier talked about what she called the “good/bad binary,” in her book Silent Racism: How Well-Meaning White People Perpetuate the Racial Divide. She argued that by focusing on such a sharp divide, white people actually made it harder to interrupt racism.

Just before the dramatic incident that happened recently in Minneapolis to George Lloyd,  Robin Diangelo in her book called White Fragility: Why it’s so hard for White People to Talk About Racism, took up this concept. The book was a gift from my half Indigenous daughter in-law. I hope she was not trying to tell me something. The book did alert me to much more subtle forms of racism that are all the more pernicious on account of the subtlety.

Diangelo pointed out that before the Civil Rights Movement it was socially acceptable for white people to openly express their belief that white people were superior to other races. When white people noticed after the Civil Rights movement how many viciously many people from the northern US and Canada treated black people —even children—the luster came off racism. As Diangelo said, “After the civil rights movement, to be a good moral person and to be complicit with racism became mutually exclusive.” Only bad people were racists. Because of that attitude “racism first needed to be reduced to simple, isolated, and extreme acts of prejudice.” A person who kills a black man lying on the ground with his hands cuffed behind his back by pressing his knee into the man’s neck clearly qualifies as a bad man. Such a man is a racist. None of us want to be a racist like that. Looking at racism this way limits racists to intentional, malicious, acts of violence or animosity based on dislike of members of another race. And those are clearly racists. The problem is that there are other racists. Racists that are much more subtle than that and hence able to actually inflict much greater harm, but harm that is not immediately as obvious.

After the civil rights movement most of us saw racists as white people, often from the southern States, who were mean, ignorant, old, usually uneducated, and malicious. Who would want to be part of that group? No one of course. In fact, as Diangelo pointed out, “Nice people, well-intended people, open-minded middle-class people, people raised in the ‘enlightened north,’ could not be racist.”

The problem with this attitude is that is makes the racist ‘the other.’ We cannot be racists. We can never admit that we are racists. That would be to admit that we are horrible people. And that just can’t be true. At least, no one can admit it. There must be some other explanation. There must always be some other explanation.

Of course, saying racism is bad was an improvement over openly acknowledging feelings of racial superiority. But if we accept the paradigm we cannot acknowledge ever that we are or have been racist. That would require us to condemn ourselves. And that is never easy to do. If I am called a racist I must defend myself. In fact if it is even suggested that I was racist I will concentrate all of my resources on my own defence. I cannot allow that to stand. And this prevents me from taking a close look at myself. And that is a bad thing. Diangelo explains the consequence of this attitude this way:

In this way, the good/bad binary makes it nearly impossible to talk to white people about racism, what it is, how it shapes all of us and the inevitable that we are conditioned to participate in racism. The good/bad binary made it effectively impossible for the average white person to understand—much less—interrupt racism.

Since whites are still the powerful majority in the US and in Canada that attitudes makes it very difficult to interrupt racism. And that is the problem. If we want to do better, we must ditch this attitude.

The point is that racism comes in many colours. Not just black and white. It is never that simple.

 

The Crime of Birdwatching While Black

 

 

By now we have all heard about the case of the black birder and white woman of privilege in Central Park in New York City. Why do I call her a woman of privilege when I don’t really know her or her circumstances? It is because she automatically has a privilege solely by virtue of the colour of her skin, while the black man has a disadvantage solely on account of the different colour of his skin. That is what systemic racism is all about—conferring automatic unearned advantage to people of one colour and at the same time automatically conferring an undeserved disadvantage on people of another colour of skin. It was a perfect example of what I have been blogging about.

 

In that case Christian Cooper asked a white woman, Amy Cooper, with an unleashed dog, to please put the dog on a leash as the rules of the park required. As Christian Cooper explained in his short but fascinating piece on the incident in the Washington Post, “She refused — and, as shown in a video that went viral, she was soon calling the police and telling them an “African American man” was “threatening” her.”

This article is interesting for 2 very important reasons. First, it shows exactly how systemic racism works. Amy Cooper quickly and automatically reached for her phone while trying to hold on to her unleashed dog and quickly started to phone the police even though it was obvious to us watching the video that she was in no danger from this polite black man. Yet, presumably, she thought she was in danger. Why? It made no sense, but the fact is that white women are quick to sense danger around black men when they are alone. Even when the white women are the real danger to the black men! Just like the white woman in To Kill a Mockingbird. She feared and then blamed the innocent black man. As well, she automatically assumed she as a white woman would be believed and the black man would not be believed. That is because that is how it usually works in the United States (or Canada for that matter).

Both of these are excellent examples of how systemic racism works. White women should fear black men and white women will be believed when they make accusations against black men, even if they are entirely without foundation. A system of racism makes that happen.

In this case it did not work to the woman’s advantage, only because of the fact that the video showing clearly what happened went viral. Had it not been for the video this might have ended very differently. It would not be unreasonable to expect that the police on hearing that a white woman was threatened by a black man would come charging in with guns blazing to protect the innocent white woman from the black thug. That is exactly what you would expect.

Christian Cooper had some interesting things to say about the case in his article in the Washington Post. First, he said,

“…it’s a mistake to focus on this one individual. The important thing the incident highlights is the long-standing, deep-seated racial bias against us black and brown folk that permeates the United States — bias that can bring horrific consequences, as with the killing of George Floyd in Minneapolis later the same day I encountered Amy Cooper, or just small daily cuts.”

 

Christian Cooper got it right. Examine the system; not just the individual racist. That is the enemy you won’t see as easily. The important racism is not the racism of individuals, at least in comparison to the racism of the system. That is much more heinous because the system is always more powerful than the individual and because it is much harder to see. The system is usually invisible. The individual—the white woman with a dog and phone in this case—are highly visible and so is her venality.

Christian Cooper highlighted the important issue in this case:

“Why did Cooper so easily tap into that toxic racial bias in the heat of the moment when she was looking for a leg up in our confrontation? Why is it surprising to no one that the police might come charging to her aid with special vengeance on hearing that an African American was involved? And most important of all, how do we fix policing so that scenarios such as this are replaced by a criminal justice system that is truly just and equitable to black people?

Focusing on charging Amy Cooper lets white people off the hook from all that. They can scream for her head while leaving their own prejudices unexamined. They can push for her prosecution and pat themselves on the back for having done something about racism, when they’ve actually done nothing, and their own Amy Cooper remains only one purse-clutch in the presence of a black man away.”

 

Finally, I found one more thing important about Christian Cooper. He was a man without resentment. He recognized that it was “important to uphold the principle of law, and that those who try to turn racism to their advantage by filing false claims against a person of colour should be held accountable”, but he chose instead to “err on the side of compassion” on the theory that his attacker had suffered enough by losing her job while he had suffered no harm. I found that attitude remarkably inspiring. I wish I could err on the side of compassion more often. Christian Cooper showed me the way.

Whose fault is that so many indigenous children are “in care”?

 

Some people might say it is clearly the “fault” of Indigenous peoples that so many indigenous children are “in care.” But even if it is true, what is the context of that “fault”? In other words, I would suggest the context is the colonial history of Canada and its powerful legacy in which Indigenous people have been subjected to colonialism for generations in a system in which they were systematically disrespected, marginalized, and taught to disparage their own child caring abilities and self-worth while undermining their cultures, independence, and capacity to  for care for children. Children were taught that their parents were incompetent parents. It cut the bond between parents and children with resulting immeasurable harm.

So the children were taken away “into care” as earlier they were taken away from their parents and put into residential schools. For generations, many of the  indigenous children were taken away from their parents and sent to Residential schools where indigenous youth were not allowed to speak their own language, to participate in their own culture, while they were separated from their families. Often they were not allowed to speak to other members of the family. They were taught that their parents were not worthy parents.

As a result, the indigenous children lacked role models for parenting as a result. Therefore, later, when they in turn became parents they did not know how to be good parents. Most of us in white society had good models. We were lucky. We benefited from the system. Indigenous children were victims of that same system. At the same time, as if that rupture was not enough, in residential schools the indigenous children often suffered the debilitating effects of abuse, exploitation, and resulting trauma. The awful results have cascaded through the generations and all of us are paying the price for that trauma.

The modern system of putting children “in care” is not a big improvement over the residential schools. Some people even think it is worse. The children are often not put with loving parents or family members. They are given to the custody of people who are paid to care for them. Often the transactions are cold. Not the best situation for young children. As the former federal minister of Indigenous Services Jane Philpott said,

“This is very much reminiscent of the residential school system where children are being scooped up from their homes, taken away from their family and we will pay the price for this for generations to come.”

 

This is not what commonly happens to white children. White children are treated differently in the system than indigenous children. That is what a racist system is all about. It exists. It is real. But many whites don’t see it. We don’t see our own racism.

No Truth no justice: Political Leaders speak about racism

 

Recently the Prime Minister of Canada asked all of Canada’s provincial and territorial leaders to sign a joint declaration condemning racism. However some Premiers were unwilling to do that unless the statement did not refer to systemic racism. They did not want to admit that there is systemic racism in Canada. So that expression was left out. Did this make senses?

The Premier of Quebec Francois Legault said he does not believe “in the existence of systemic racism in Quebec.” Manitoba’s Premier Brian Pallister argued that it was not necessary to use the word “systemic” because it was implied. He did not admit that he was one of the Premiers who refused to sign the declaration with that word in, but many think he was.  Is it a dirty word? If it is implied as Pallister suggests, why not make it explicit? Isn’t it time to be honest? We will never tackle racism until we openly acknowledge we have it. We can’t confront it unless we do so honestly. This is no time to get tricky with the wording.

Some of my friends have challenged my view that in Canada we have a system of racism. I have been trying to respond to the challenge. It will take some time however to do that thoroughly. I have been wondering if perhaps we do not agree on a common definition of system racism.

Dan Lett of the Winnipeg Free Press had an interesting recent comment on this issue:

“The concept of “institutional racism” was first expressed by Stokely Carmichael and Charles V. Hamilton in their 1967 book, Black Power” the Politics of Liberation. The authors argued there needed to be a distinct recognition of “less overt, far more subtle” forms of racism that were present “in the operation of established and respected forces in society.

Over the decades since the idea was first cast, social science has proven systemic racism is hardly theoretical. People of colour in countries around the world are regularly subjected to race-based bias in everything from health care to financial services, education, employment, income, and housing. The data is abundant and incontrovertible.

In the face of all this evidence, the mostly white people who dominate the “established and respected forces in society” have tried to suggest—as Legault did in his comments—systemic racism means a system where everyone in it is a racist. In making this argument Legault is trying to portray the idea of systemic racism in indemonstrable terms.”

 

I agree. I don’t think everyone in Canada is a racist, though I think we live in a racist system. Like Lett I think the evidence for that is “abundant and incontrovertible.” I have been trying to demonstrate that in my posts.

It is important for us to acknowledge the truth and by that I mean the whole truth. We have had many racists in this country. We still do. But just as important we must acknowledge the system of racism too.

Senator Murray Sinclair, formerly a justice of the Court of Queen’s Bench in Manitoba, and most well known for heading the Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada, led an inquiry into the Thunder Bay Police Service and reached the conclusion “systemic racism exists in the TBPS at an institutional level.” He was interviewed by the Globe and Mail where he said, it is ultimately pointless to acknowledge racism without also dealing with its systemic constructs. I explained to them that it’s the system itself that is founded upon beliefs and attitudes and policies that virtually force even the non-racist person to behave in a racist way. If you get rid of all the racists in every police force, you’ll still have a system racism problem.”

Lett was quite critical of Manitoba’s Premier for failing to acknowledge publicly the systemic problem of racism. Here is what he said,

“Offering to address a problem while denying one of the major ways it exists is one of the last refuges of cowards. It’s a pathetic attempt to done the robes of progressives while performing the quiet work of an agent of the status quo.’

Those are tough words, but I believe appropriate.

In the report of Canada’s Truth and Reconciliation Commission Report one of the descendants of Survivors (of Residential Schools) Daniel Elliot put it well and succinctly to the Commission: “I think all Canadians need to stop and take a look and not look away.”

The Truth and Reconciliation Report itself said, “Without truth, justice, and healing, there can be no genuine reconciliation. Reconciliation is not about ‘closing a sad chapter of Canada’s past,’ but about opening new healing pathways of reconciliation that are forged in truth and justice.”

No truth no justice. That’s how I put it.

 

Whose fault is that so many indigenous children are in care?

 

Some people  say it is clearly the “fault” of Indigenous peoples that so many indigenous children are “in care”. But even if it is true, what is the context of that “fault”?  I would suggest the context is the colonial history of Canada and its powerful legacy, in which Indigenous people have been subjected to colonialism for generations in a system in which they were systematically disrespected, marginalized, and taught to disparage their own child caring abilities and self-worth, while undermining their cultures, independence, and capacity to for care for children. Children were taught that their parents were incompetent parents. It cut the bond between parents and children with immeasurable harm that flowed from generation to generation.

So the children were taken away “into care” as earlier they were taken away from their parents and put into residential schools. It really is not that different. For generations, many of the children were taken away from their parents and sent to Residential schools where indigenous youth were not allowed to speak their own language, or to participate in their own culture, while they were separated from their families. Often they were not allowed to speak to other members of the family. They were taught that their parents were not worthy parents.

As a result, the children lacked role models for parenting as a result. Therefore, later, when they in turn became parents they did not know how to be good parents. Most of us in white society had good models. We were lucky. We benefited from the system. Indigenous children were victims of that same system. At the same time, as if that rupture was not enough, in residential schools the indigenous children often suffered debilitating effects of abuse, exploitation, and resulting trauma. The results have again cascaded through the generations and all of us are paying the price for that trauma.

The modern system of putting children “in care” is not a big improvement over the residential schools. Some people even think it is worse. Often the children are not put with loving parents or family members. They are given to the custody of people who are paid to care for them. As former federal minister of Indigenous Services Jane Philpott said,

“This is very much reminiscent of the residential school system where children are being scooped up from their homes, taken away from their family and we will pay the price for this for generations to come.”

This is not what commonly happens to white children. White children are treated differently in the system than indigenous children. That is what a racist system is all about. It exists. It is real. But many whites don’t see it. We don’t see our own racism. We take for granted a system that benefits us. It seems natural. It is not.

Children in Care

 

One of the scandals of Canadian society is the number of indigenous children in care in Canada. “In care” means that the children have been taken away from their parents on the basis that the parents are unfit to care for their children. In other words those children are taken from their parents and given over to foster parents, or in some cases, civil servants who take them to hotels. Often those children are taken to homes where they are not loved or even “cared” for. They are just there.

Of course sometimes this is necessary. It can happen to white parents and it can happen to indigenous parents. It should be rare. For white children and their parents it is rare. For indigenous children and their parents it is not rare.

About 50% of the total children in care are indigenous children! In a country where 4.9% of people in Canada self-identified as aboriginal in the last census that is an astonishing proportion of the children in care. in other words the rate of indigenous children in care is 10 times what one would expect based on population! More than 40,000 indigenous children are currently “in care” in Canada. This is more than the number of indigenous children were put into Residential schools.

Another shocking fact is that 25% of these indigenous children in care are in Manitoba. A small province like Manitoba has a quarter of the indigenous children in care.

Another surprising statistic is that 4% of indigenous children in care who are suffering from mental illness receive no treatment for their illness.

According to the former federal minister of Indigenous Services Jane Philpott, “The disproportionate number of Indigenous children currently in the child welfare system has created a “humanitarian crisis” in the country.”

Minster Philpott sent a letter to her provincial and territorial counterparts calling for “an emergency meeting” on indigenous children and family services. CBC News reported on it this way:

We are facing a humanitarian crisis in this country where Indigenous children are vastly disproportionately over-represented in the child welfare system,” said Philpott in an interview Thursday with Power & Politics.

Philpott said in Manitoba, there are a total of 11,000 children in care and 10,000 are Indigenous children. Statistics Canada census data released last week revealed 4,300 Indigenous children under the age of four are currently in foster care.”

 

Here is another shocking statistic from Stats Canada: Aboriginal children accounted for 7.7% of all children aged 0 to 4, and about one‑half of all foster children in this age group.

 Think about these stats for a second. What do they signify? Such facts cannot possibly be explained on the basis of racist individuals. Such stark facts speak of a vast system of racism. In Manitoba 10 out of 11 children taken away form their parents and put “in care” are indigenous children. More than 90%. Too often where nobody actually cares about them.

Toni Morrison’s Beloved

 

 

Toni Morrison returned to the subject of self-hatred and racism in her profound novel about slavery—Beloved. This is surely one of the classic novels of the twentieth century. It is also one of the most shocking novels you will ever read.

I want to give a warning here as I will spoil the ending for those who want to read it. I find that unavoidable. In that book a mother—Sethe—escaped from slavery with her two daughters Denver and Beloved. But when the slavers who were tracking them found them, Sethe did the unthinkable—she tried to kill her daughters. She took Beloved to the shed and cut her throat with a saw to save her from slavery, by killing her. Here is Morrison’s incredibly powerful description of that scene:

“Denver thought she understood the connection between her mother and Beloved: Sethe was trying to make up for the handsaw; Beloved was making her pay for it…Sethe’s greatest fear was the same one Denver had in the beginning—that Beloved might leave. That before Seth could make her understand what it meant—what it took to drag the teeth of that saw under the little chin; to feel the baby blood pump like oil in her hands; to hold her face so her head would stay on; to squeeze her so she could absorb, still, the death spasms that shot through that adored body, plump and sweet with life—Beloved might leave. Leave before Sethe could make her realize that worse than that—far worse—was what Baby Suggs died of, what Ella knew, what Stamp saw and what made Paul D tremble. That anybody white could take your whole self for anything that came to mind. Not just work, kill, or maim you, but dirty you. Dirty so bad you couldn’t like yourself anymore. Dirty so bad you forgot who you were and couldn’t think it up. And though she and others lived through and got over it, she could never let it happen to her own. The best thing she was, was her children. Whites might dirty her all right, but not her best thing, her beautiful, magical best thing—the part of her that was clean. No undreamable dream about whether the headless, feetless torso hanging in the tree with a sign on it was her husband or Paul A; whether the bubbling-hot girls in the colored-school fire set by patriots included her daughter; whether a gang of whites invaded her daughter’s private parts, soiled the daughter’s thighs and threw her daughter out the wagon. She might have to work the slaughterhouse yard, but not her daughter.”

These are things that a system of racism can accomplish. No individual acts of racism could do this.

The Bluest Eye: The terrifying Logic of Racism

 

In the Toni Morrison’s first novel, The Bluest Eye, Pecola’s mother and father, the products of a racist society that created people without self-worth, had epic fights. They were poor and black. Yet those fights, “relieved the tiresomeness of poverty, gave grandeur to their dead rooms.” As a result her mother—Mrs. Breedlove—what a name—and Cholly her husband had an incredible relationship. They started out loving each other, but over time that love curdled into something contaminated. Yet, they needed each other. “If Cholly had stopped drinking, she would have never forgiven Jesus. She needed Cholly’s sins desperately. The lower he sank, the wilder and more irresponsible he became, the more splendid she and her task became. In the name of Jesus.

         Yet Cholly needed Mrs. Breedlove just as much. They were not complete without each other. “No less did Cholly need her. She was one of the few things abhorrent to him that he could touch and therefore hurt. He poured out on her the sum of all his inarticulate fury and aborted desires. Hating her, he could leave himself intact.”

That is what the impotent black man in America was reduced to. He could not fight back against his powerful white oppressors. He had to accept the domination and the hurt because as Toni Morrison said, there was nothing he could do about it. The only thing he could do was turn on those who were less powerful than him. Even though he loved them—his wife and his daughter—he could only try to quench his abject self-hatred by hurting those he loved the most.

Half-remembered injustices that were “humiliations, defeats, and emasculations… could stir him into flights of depravity that surprised himself—but only himself. Somehow he could not astound. He could only be astounded.”

When Cholly was young he loved Darlene a lovely young black girl. One day they were having sex—loving sex—when they were interrupted by a group of young white men bent on harm. They forced them to continue the sex as they watched shining flashlights onto the bodies of the disgraced couple. As a result, Cholly came to hate Darlene instead of the white boys. That is the terrifying logic of racism. The victim comes to hate himself and those he loves the most, instead of the lethal white predators. Morrison described that process this way,

“Sullen, irritable, he cultivated his hatred of Darlene. Never did he once consider directing his hatred toward the hunters. Such an emotion would have destroyed him. They were big, white, armed, men. He was small, black, and helpless. His subconscious knew what his mind did not guess—that hating them would have consumed him, burned him up, like a piece of soft coal, leaving only flakes of ash and a question mark of smoke. He was, in time, to discover the hatred of white men—but not now. Not in impotence, but later, when the hatred could find sweet expression. For now, he hated the one who had created the situation, the one who bore witness to his failure, his impotence. The one whom he had not been able to protect, to spare, to cover from the round moon glow of the flashlight.”

 

What Toni Morrison, like James Baldwin before her, realized, and so many of us, like me in particular have not realized, is the astonishing visceral power of impotent rage. It is helpless before overwhelming power so it turns on itself and those the victim loves the most. It is irrational of course, but that does not matter. Somehow, in some twisted pathological logic, it is better to hurt those you love than do nothing but accept the injustice.

In Canada we are often told, by the comfortable privileged, that the “aboriginal problem” is exactly that—an aboriginal problem. Most violence against aboriginals is inflicted by other aboriginals. It is entirely their fault. That may be, but that changes nothing! That is exactly the deadly awfulness of racism. It can impel the victim to turn on himself or herself and turn on others, even more vulnerable, loved ones, in a cruel metamorphism that bespeaks generations of abuse and imposed self-hatred. The vulnerable ones are then attacked from all sides. There is no refuge, no safe haven. Racism is much more powerful and much more awful than I ever imagined. It is thanks to writers like Toni Morrison and James Baldwin that I have come to realize that. Thanks.