We Can’t Fix What We Refuse to Face with Dr. Marianne Modica

Book Banning at the Naval Academy

From my perspective, the news has not been good of late. The latest depressing tidbit is that, by order of the Defense Secretary, 381 books have been pulled from the shelves of the U.S. Naval Academy’s library. (Sidenote: I visited the Naval Academy last summer while vacationing in Annapolis. Awesome place.) The Naval Academy is an undergraduate college with a variety of majors (more on that later). But let’s be clear—it is a college. Now, I’m all for common sense and developmental appropriateness when it comes to kids and reading material. For example, when I was 12 years old, I got a hold of a copy of Rosemary’s Baby (remember that one?) that kept me awake at night for who knows how long, and I always wished someone had been interested enough in my well-being to monitor my reading and spare me from nighttime terrors. If it were possible to unread a book, that would have been it for me. But Naval Academy midshipmen (and btw, if gender-inclusive language was ever on the to-do list, now it’s definitely to-don’t) are not 12-year-olds. They are college students and the future military leaders of our country. After graduation, they are obligated to serve in the Navy or Marine Corps for at least five years. So, it appears that Naval Academy graduates are tough enough to become Navy SEALs, but not tough enough to read a variety of sources on important, albeit controversial, issues and make up their own minds about what they think. But perhaps a thinking military leadership is also currently on the to-don’t list. 

So, what books made this now infamous list? (I’d like to note that neither my academic text nor my novels on race/gender relations made the list—ya think maybe because they were never included in the library holdings to begin with? I’m tempted to send them copies of my books and suggest they place them in their catalog so that they can ban them.) You can check out the list here: banned books. The books range from popular to scholarly, and include a variety of genres, from young adult fiction, to religion, to sports, to history, to politics, to philosophy, to literary criticism, to psychology. Some are common reading in high schools, such as The Hate U Give by Angie Thomas and I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelous—both wonderful, important works. Others are well-known and respected academic texts, many of which I used in my graduate school research. Anything having to do with race relations, gender identity, sexual orientation, woman’s rights, and even the Holocaust is out (which shows the complete lack of thoughtfulness of this action, given that the current administration is pressuring universities to do more to combat antisemitism. Which begs the question: do they really care about antisemitism, or are they more interested in punishing protesters they don't agree with?). 

A few books on the history of the KKK and lynching are also included on the list, I guess because it’s not important we acknowledge that part of our history. Maybe it was just a big misunderstanding after all. Books about the First Amendment are on the banned list, which seems fitting, given that First Amendment rights don’t seem to matter anymore. Books about managing diversity in the military are also gone, even though the U.S. Navy is the most racially diverse of military branches, with 37% service members of color and over 20% women. 

Currently the Naval Academy offers over 25 majors, including English, History, and Political Science; honors programs are offered in those area of study, as well. My sympathies to the students trying to write an honors level thesis without the research they need to support their work. Their writing will surely suffer and, if my graduate professors were right and writing actually IS a form of thinking, the absence of scholarly sources will result in incomplete research which will result in shallow writing and ultimately simplistic thinking (which is what got us here in the first place). But maybe that’s the goal. 

One of the most well-known books pulled from the shelves in this sweeping ban is national best-seller White Fragility by Robin DiAngelo. The term "white fragility" refers to the defensive way that some white people respond to the topic of racism. For some, talking about racism causes feelings of guilt, shame, and anger and results in the backlash we’re seeing today. Interestingly (to me, at least), theories of racial identity development see these feelings as part of the developmental process for whites; feelings of guilt, shame, and anger can result when whites first begin to understand the devastation of racism and can be seen as natural and even productive because they show that the person is deeply grasping the pain and damage racism has caused. Acknowledging the horror of racism should be part of the growth process because, as James Baldwin famously said, “Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced.” So, it’s normal to have some intense feelings when you first think deeply about these issues, but the goal is to move past them. Unfortunately, it’s possible to get stuck here and remain in the anger until it becomes toxic. 

Of course, the banned books were not only about racism, but I think the fragility factor applies to the conversation as a whole. How ironic that the folks behind the book banning are the ones who need to read the books the most. Instead, they’ve rejected the idea of growth and have opted to remain stuck in their fragile state of toxic anger. This would be bad enough on the individual level, but what is truly frightening is that they have the seemingly unchecked power to impose their toxicity on the rest of us. 

Let me end by saying that I admire the young people training to serve in our military. We’ve been taught from childhood that a strong military will ensure our continued freedom, a crucial American value. I’m just sad that academic freedom isn’t among the freedoms some of us think are worth defending.

WOKE WOKE WOKE WOKE WOKE

I remember when I first heard the term, “woke” applied to race relations. Several years ago, a good friend who is African American told me I was woke. She meant it as a compliment, and I took it as one.

“More people need to be woke,” I remember her saying.

“First they have to wake up,” I replied. “Maybe the saying should be, “wake up and stay woke.’” We both laughed.

Unfortunately, we're not laughing anymore, because through what I have to admit is a brilliant act of appropriation, that term has taken on a different meaning. When I hear or read it now, it’s often used as an insult toward people who hold a progressive view on issues involving racial and other types of diversity. And by that, I mean people who believe that racism still exists on individual and systemic levels and that we should talk about it because the way to make something better is to examine it in the light, not make believe it doesn’t exist. Someone once said that there are two problems that disappear if you ignore them long enough. Newsflash: racism isn’t one of them. (They’re snow and adolescence, if you’re wondering.)

Anyway, woke. The term is now often used with disdain to describe people who want to—I don’t know, what? Take down the American government (ironic in light of the events of January 6…)? Take away childhood innocence? Make life harder for white people (also ironic)? Teach our kids to hate our country?

Ridiculous, of course. None of these things is true, and as we teach our kids, saying something is true doesn’t make it true no matter how many times you say it.

I think it’s time to take back the word. What does it mean to be woke?

If WOKE means I understand that events don’t happen in a vacuum, then I’m woke.

If WOKE means I believe that the present is connected to the past, then I’m woke.

If WOKE means examining the past to understand the present, then I’m woke.

If WOKE means I don’t project my experiences on to others, then I’m woke.

If WOKE means I believe what people tell me about their experiences, then I’m woke.

If WOKE means being honest, no matter how painful, then I’m woke.

If WOKE means having the courage to talk about uncomfortable topics, then I’m woke.

If WOKE means respecting and valuing the ideas of people whose experience is different from mine, then I’m woke.

If WOKE means having empathy, then I’m woke.

If WOKE means wanting a fair and just society, then I’m woke.

If WOKE means examining past policies and practices that helped some and hurt others, then I’m woke.

If WOKE means giving extra help to folks who need it because of those past policies and practices, then I’m woke.

If WOKE means being aware of unearned factors in my background that have helped me succeed, then I’m woke.

And most of all, if WOKE means listening, if WOKE means caring, if WOKE means loving, then, please Lord, wake me up and keep me woke.

 

Revelation 3:2 - Wake up, and strengthen what remains and is about to die, for I have not found your works complete in the sight of my God.

What is Critical Race Theory (CRT) and Why are People Against It?

Critical Race Theory (CRT), a lens through which race relations in the U.S. may be viewed, has been around for decades, but is only now making it into mainstream news. As a researcher and teacher about race in education, I was tempted to hope this was a good thing. After all, the recent uproar regarding the teaching of race through the lens of CRT in K-12 schools at least shows that people are thinking about racism. Since, as James Baldwin once said, “Not everything that is faced can be changed; but nothing can be changed until it is faced,” the outcry against CRT in racism education does show that people are grappling with an especially uncomfortable topic. Unfortunately, recent actions in some places restricting how racism is taught seek to shut down, rather than encourage, honest conversations from multiple perspectives about the effects of racism in our current, everyday lives.

I’m thinking, of course, about the recent ruling by the Florida Department of Education banning the precepts of CRT in the schools. The governor of the state has declared that not only is the lens of CRT unnecessary, it is actually damaging in that it teaches kids to hate each other and to hate our country.* 

Wow. That’s pretty strong stuff, and if it were true, I, too, would be concerned. But, of course, it isn’t true. The purpose of teaching about racism isn’t to stir up hate, but to foster understanding of the experiences of people of color, the systems that perpetuate racial inequity, and the responsibility we all have to work toward racial healing that can only come about when we face the past and try to do better in the future. 

So what is CRT? As I tell my students, it’s okay to be against something, but first you have to know what that something is before you can be sure you’re against it. Since I used CRT as the organizing framework of Race Among Friends, my book based on research with high school students who explored race as part of their literature curriculum, I’ll draw from that text in my description of CRT. Originating in legal scholarship, CRT examines the intersection of race and power and, over the last several decades, has become a tool to analyze and critique inequity in general and, particularly, in education. Here are the key concepts of CRT that I used in my analysis of what went on among the high school students I studied: 

• While CRT recognizes that factors like gender and social class are also important in explaining inequity, it views racism as a contemporary and persistent problem.
• Critical race theorists believe that the experience of racism on one level or another is typical for people of color. Hence, although it would be great if we could be “colorblind,” that doesn’t work because if we can’t admit that race still affects people’s lives, we can’t do anything to correct or improve that state of being. Therefore, being colorblind only benefits the group with the vested interest (whether consciously or unconsciously) in maintaining the status quo.
• CRT stresses that racism is not only about individual prejudice (although that certainly still exists), but insists we look at the past and present systems that keep us from racial equity. These systems can work on the large scale or in more contained environments. For example, I found that the system called “tracking” (separating students based on supposed academic ability) within the individual school I studied stopped African American students from reading certain literature that would have benefited them. Moreover, the white students at the school were also affected by this practice because they were kept from hearing the voices of their classmates of color on the very issue that affected them most.  Although my specific area of study was race in education, CRT looks at other systems as well, such as housing, health, criminal justice, and voting rights. It requires that we analyze policies and practices in these areas in terms of their effects on people of color.
• Because racial inequity still exists, societal transformation toward racial equity is the goal of analysis through CRT.
• Lastly, critical race theorists note the importance of hearing the voices of people from groups targeted by racism (in its past and present forms). This can’t happen until whites become aware of how race continues to function in our society and commit to seek real change. Hence, the term, “woke,” has become a sometimes maligned buzzword describing this awareness. 

So what’s all the hoopla about? Why are some people so upset over CRT? Basic arguments against the use of CRT in schools say that talking about race makes things worse because it stirs up divisions among students and that the goal of CRT is not, as I stated above, to move us toward racial equity, but to make white students feel guilty (hence, CRT is racist against whites) and to make all students hate our country (as someone who has studied race in education for a number of years, that seemed like a new one to me until I remembered the “love it or leave it” backlash against the anti-war protests of decades ago). Another, perhaps more insidious argument says that CRT damages students of color because it relegates them to the category of “oppressed” and therefore, I guess, limits them from achieving their full potential. So, according to this argument, CRT is racist against students of color, as well. 

Like CRT itself, the sentiments behind these arguments are not new, and can be understood through the lens of another theory (perhaps the next to be banned), called Racial Identity Theory. Racial Identity Theories (there are actually more than one) look at how identifying with membership in one or more racial groups influences people’s identity—how they think of themselves as evidenced by beliefs, feelings, behaviors, etc. I won’t go into the detail of these theories because it would take too long, but I will say that according to white racial identity development theory, it is not unusual for whites to experience feelings of anger or guilt when faced with the idea that racism still exists and that whites, whether they know it or not, benefit from it. (This is where the idea of “white privilege” – yet another term to be banned— comes from. White privilege doesn’t mean that all whites are racist, or that all whites are rich, or that whites haven’t worked hard to earn their money or societal positions. It does mean that as members of the dominant culture we (whites) benefit from the systems that keep people of color from many societal advantages. And, it's important to remember that not all members of the dominant culture are equally privileged because other factors like gender, social class, religion, etc., are important, too). 

As I was saying, the feelings of anger currently aimed at CRT are not new. Many of the white students I worked with during my research felt as if they were being blamed for racism, although that was not our intent (as we explicitly stated many times). So, although I’m saddened, I can’t say I’m totally surprised at the current furor in some circles over CRT. The anger is not new, but has merely found a new channel of expression. It’s easier to be mad at a theory such as CRT than to be angry at the actual inequity it seeks to expose, especially if that inequity is not aimed at my particular group. As a white person, it’s painful to admit that something as ugly as racism still exists and, what’s worse, that I might benefit from it. That acknowledgment may require a collapse and restructuring of things I believed to be true. So, when first faced with these ideas, it’s not hard to understand why whites might react negatively. However, according to Racial Identity Theory, if we look at these feelings of guilt, blame, and anger as part of the developmental process of figuring out our racial identity, we can hope that whites will be able to grow past these feelings and eventually come to understand their important role as allies to people of color. 

So, while the anger isn't new, what is especially tragic is the focus of that anger toward the making of school policy that forbids teachers from engaging in developmentally appropriate and open conversations about race among K-12 students. At the proper age and developmental level, our students deserve to grapple with these tough issues. Does everyone have to agree on everything? No, but all students should be given the opportunity to express their points of view, based on their experiences, and to come to understand the points of view of their classmates and peers.  All students deserve to hear about how race affects the lives of those around them. This can’t happen if we shut down conversations about present racial inequity, no matter how uncomfortable or angry those conversations make us feel. If parents believe their children are being "indoctrinated" by a particular perspective that they disagree with, a more productive response would be to insist on a curriculum that encourages healthy, respectful discussion and debate about the topic from multiple standpoints. This would serve the dual purpose of exposing students to multiple perspectives and of modeling civil discourse among concerned citizens, something severely lacking in public dialog of late. Isn't that one of the goals of education?

*More info about Florida ruling on CRT

How could this happen? In-group bias, that's how.

By now I'm sure you're saturated with social media posts, news broadcasts, and videos depicting and analyzing the chaos at the Capitol as rioters overtook police and stormed the Capitol building last Wednesday, January 6, 2021. I'm also sure that you, like me, are horrified. As you watched the unfolding images, maybe, also like me, you couldn't help but compare the police response that day to that of the Black Lives Matter protests (I'm speaking about the many peaceful protests here, not the looting and burning that followed). I'm sure you've seen the comparison images, so no need to repeat them here. 

"How could this happen?" many of us are asking. On one level, we know that the seeds were sown over the course of many months as false information about the election results were disseminated by a variety of sources. Why do I say the information was false? Because there was no credible evidence given in any of the 60 lawsuits that followed the election contesting its results. But my goal here is not to go over that again. As someone who studies race relations, I'm interested in something more immediate: what is at the root of the very different police responses to the Capitol protest-turned-riot and the BLM protests over the summer? 

It's pretty obvious that the Capitol Police were under-prepared last Wednesday, even though the plans of some groups and individuals toward insurrection were no secret--they were well-publicized on social media. These people thought their actions so justified they didn't even try to conceal their identities, as evidenced by the many videos and photos they posted of themselves and others breaking the law. The question is, why were the police so woefully under-prepared? According to Rep. Tim Ryan (D-Ohio), who oversees the House committee in charge of the Capitol Police, that group expected a peaceful protest, a protest that would be "pretty vanilla"* (interesting use of terminology, but hold that thought for a moment). So sure were they that violence would not be an issue that the leadership of the Capitol Police twice turned down offers of help from the Pentagon days before the event.** Maybe hindsight is 2020 (or 2021), but how could they be so wrong? Why would they ignore ample warnings to the contrary? 

In-group bias, that's why. According to the American Psychological Association, in-group bias is "the tendency to favor one’s own group, its members, its characteristics, and its products, particularly in reference to other groups."*** In-group bias may be a "natural" tendency (or it may seem natural because we've grown up in a racist and racially divided society), but when we allow it to go unchecked, we end up buying into stereotypes and acting on implicit beliefs about the motivations and actions of those in the "outgroup." People from any background can experience or act on in-group bias, but when that group is in authority and has power...well, we saw the result last week. 

Am I saying the Capitol Police are outwardly racist? Of course not. They are public servants (many of them people of color) putting their lives on the line, trying to do their jobs, and remember that these concepts should be applied group-wide and not individually. I'm saying that those in leadership, those who rejected the offer of help, were displaying in-group bias when they thought this "vanilla" protest would remain nonviolent. If the color symbolism in the adjective "vanilla" doesn't jump out at you, well, I don't know what to say, but I'll try. Vanilla = white = perceived peaceful by other whites = in-group-bias. No one in leadership imagined that a group of government-supporting (our current President being the head of our government) white people would forcibly break into the Capitol with weapons and zip-ties (ready to take hostages) and wreak the havoc that resulted in five deaths (one being Brian D. Sicknick, Capitol Police officer). We white people just don't do things like that, right? That's what in-group bias would have us believe. 

If you need an in-the-moment example, take a look at this video clip of the riot. You may not like the news outlet or the commentator or his analysis, but that's not the point. Watch what happens in the clip between 5:14 and 6:19. MSNBC video As the rioters try to break through glass doors, three white male officers bar their way. They are completely outnumbered and obviously in danger. One of the male protestors (presumably white) can be heard pleading with them to move out of the way. "Bro," he begs, "I've seen people out there get hurt. I don't want to see you get hurt...we will make a path [for their safe escape, I guess]...I want you to go home." The three officers finally move out of the way (which is another issue), the rioters begin to break through the glass, and suddenly a gun appears on the other side of the doorway. A few seconds later a shot is fired--it's unclear what happens after that. 

But there you have it. "Bro." In the middle of a violent break-in intended as a government takeover, the rioters had the presence of mind to protect their "bros"-- members of their own racial group. There's a sense of camaraderie in the rioter's plea that can't be missed. Bro, go home. We don't want you to get hurt. 

The takeover of the Capitol last Wednesday should teach us much on many levels about the danger of false information and the responsibility of our leaders to tell the truth. But we ignore the role that race played in how the events unfolded at our own peril. 

 *https://www.politifact.com/article/2021/jan/08/black-lives-matter-protests-and-capitol-assault-co/

 **https://apnews.com/article/capitol-police-reject-federal-help-9c39a4ddef0ab60a48828a07e4d03380

 ***https://dictionary.apa.org/ingroup-bias

White People, What Can We Do?

So, here we are again. America, are we ever going to get this right? I have to admit I've wondered if our country can or will ever recover from the sin of racism: a sin so evil, so brutal, so ugly, and so etched into the fiber of our society since before its inception that, for some, it is all but invisible.  However, in the many, many posts I've read over the last several weeks, I do believe I'm beginning to see a glimmer of hope, a subtle shift in sensibilities. For the very first time I'm seeing the question from white people, "What can we do?"

It's an important question, not for the anticipated content of its response alone, but for the sense of surrender it signals. Okay, I get it, the questions implies. Racism is real. Black lives matter can no longer be dismissed or ignored. Black lives matter--there, I said it. Okay? Now, what can I do?

There are many things we can do--maybe you've seen the lists floating around cyberspace. They usually begin with listening, something that I, personally, am not always good at, but yes, first and foremost we need to listen to the perspectives of people of color. We need to grow past the immature, egocentric thinking that says, what I do or do not experience is what everyone else does or does not experience. So, of course, we need to listen and learn from the experiences of others. But there's something else we need to do.

We also need to talk -- TO EACH OTHER -- about race. We should not expect people of color to bear the burden of our education. It is painful and not their responsibility. Racism is a white problem at its core. White people started it and white people need to end it. One way we can do that is to educate ourselves and each other about how the policies and practices born from our racist history continue to marginalize and disenfranchise people of color today. The good news is that education has never been easier or more convenient: TED Talks, movies, blogs, articles, books, etc. are only a click away.

So white people, let's talk.

White People, Don't Miss the Point

Social media burns with the streets
Over the image of George Floyd
Choking under the knee of oppression.
Sadness, fury, disgust,
Tears, empathy, prayers,
A thesaurus of emotion
Washes through social media like a flood-bloated river
Bloated with concern.

But white people,
We need to be careful.
Be careful not to miss the point.
From the depths of the swollen waters
A message floats to the top: not all cops are bad.
People compelled to point out
Remember, not all cops are bad.
It's a very important point--
Bears repeating and so we repeat it:
Remember, not all cops are bad.

Yes, true, good point.
Of course, not all cops are bad.
Police, our first responders
Enter danger like I enter the grocery store
Run toward while we run away
Immersed in crisis every day--
A child shot
A burning house
A drunken brawl
A food distribution
A car wreck
A Covid struck community.
It's a hard, hard job,
And we appreciate their service.
Of course, not all cops are bad.

But white people, don't miss the point.
Don't let the point be overshadowed
By the tent of defensive posturing
By a point that is not the point
By a point that helps us miss the point.
Who's good, who's bad, how many
What percent
White people, that's not the point.

The casual knee that stopped the breath
The pleas, heartbreakingly polite
Please. He said please.
He'd been taught well
By the mother he called at the end.

That knee wasn't just a knee.
That knee was attached to a culture
A system
Just another day on the job
Ho-hum.
That knee was attached to a failure of leadership
That knee was attached to a tolerance of abuse
That knee was attached to a fear of brown bodies.
If George Floyd had been a dog
The Humane Society would have been called.

White people, don't miss the point.
We don't need to defend the good cops
This isn't about them.
This isn't about how many good cops
How many bad cops.
This is about how many times.
How many times before a cultural shift
Roots out oppressive knees
Before they put on the uniform
Before they hit the streets
How many brown bodies have to die?
White people, don't miss the point.