Skip to main content

race

I forget that race is still very much an issue.

I hate to be reminded.

Yesterday ( I teach highschool), our spirit "dress up" day was Hip Hop Day. As I walked into the school I thought how fun and original. Lots of students and even teachers participated. They were in their warmup up suits. Crooked hats. Big chains. Jerseys. Big pants. Adiadas. And of course shades. I wanted to bust out with some Run DMC as I walked down the hall. And then I got to first period. It only took a few minutes for me to notice some major tension. Mainly it was the white kids who dressed up and participated. Most of my black students were not amused. They felt mocked. Despite the seating chart that they usually sit in. My kids were now arranged into a white side and a black side. The white kids didn't really know how to respond and the tension increased. At first I just told them to be quiet. Then I tried to ignore it. Then I finally had to address it. I think I even botched it.

This current election is bringing out ugly race issues ( and gender issues) that I thought most of the people in our country had moved passed.

I have a friend who was looking into adoption. White babies cost twice as much and take 3-4X as long to get. Black and mixed racial babies are half price. That makes me angry.

I don't have an answer. I know the process is slow. I know that it gets better with each generation. But this is not fast enough.

Comments

Imez said…
Why does it make you angry, the price difference of babies? I'm really curious. I mean, I know it feels wrong (I'd italicize "feels" if I knew how), it does to me, too. But I can't think of anyone to blame for it.

Popular posts from this blog

Of course I did.

Today I am supposed to be doing my last installment in five for ten and write about "yes". And this is not at all the post I intended. But life sometimes doesn't take the turns we want it to. And yesterday a teacher friend of mine called and told me about a memorial service for one of my former studetns and asked if maybe I would consider saying something. And keep in mind, that as a teacher, I pretty much speak to groups of people all day for a living. But. If I have to say something serious and heartfealt, even to an audience of one, I usually get all mumbly and stare at my shoes and forget what I was going to say. Even though I love this kid....and will miss him terribly I have a hard time imaging myslef on stage talking to an auditorium filled with grief stricken friends and family. I texted another friend about my reservations. And she knows all too well my mumbly shoe staring state. And she replied, "Did you say yes?" Did which I typed back. "of cour...

Either/Or

Recently I met an old friend for lunch. He was actually my senior high prom date. He wasn’t just my prom date, but had been my friend for a good part of high school. And our group has mostly stayed in touch through the years. But not him. Even though we live in the same big metroplex, I hadn’t seen him in almost 15 years. At prom, He even won some kind of senior superlative, Mr. BHS or something like that. In other words, he was well-liked, nice, funny and smart. And it helped that he drove a Camero. We didn’t break up or have a falling out. He kind of just disappeared. And not just from me, but from everyone. And I had looked for him. At class reunions. On myspace. And eventually, only about a year ago, he finally showed up on facebook. When he did, I suggested we get together for dinner or something. And he responded with a really awkward email. Explaining that he was gay. Warning me. Trying to let me out of my dinner invitation if I wanted. And I already knew this. Possibly I had ev...

me too

I used to never question God. It was just part of the way things were. Just like I believed in Santa and the tooth fairy and the Easter bunny. And eventually I grew up and started to wonder. I always believed, But occasionally I started to wonder if he was always good. If he really loved me. Singular me rather than an all inclusive version. That he was paying attention. That my prayers mattered.` And I didn’t know that I should play by the rules. That questioning these outloud things in a Bible study or Sunday School class Will get you bumped to the top of the prayer list. Because I know. But sometimes I wonder. And I didn’t need their scripture memory verses or their books or their prayers. (but I guess prayers never hurt) And I was just hoping for someone else to say “me too”. And, Jason Boyett’s book, O Me of Little Faith Is one great big “me too” And like most books I like he asks a whole lot more questions than he answers. Hard ones. Ones without real answers. Ones that make me wa...