At last Tuesday's visioning meeting, I tried to make a point about  
the challenges of being in the visible minority.  That proved to be  
volatile.  A week later I believe even more strongly that this  
demands attention and discussion.

Back in February (Black History Month), there was an article on Talk  
of the Nation, "Op-Ed: Holder Shouldn't Have Called Us Cowards,"  
interviewing Charles M. Blow, New York Times visual op-ed columnist,  
about race:

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=101055381

One particular part of the discussion has really stuck with me.  I'm  
paraphrasing at length here because I found this dialog so revealing.

A black woman from South Bend, Indiana said it's difficult to discuss  
race with her friends, most of whom are white, because they're  
hypersensitive.  Paraphrasing, the caller said:

Any time I mention that I long to be around more black people, they  
kind of shut it down by saying, "well, we're your friends; it doesn't  
matter that you're black to us.  It doesn't matter to you that I'm  
white; We like what we like, and we like you, so why does that make a  
difference?"  It's the whole colorblind argument that they throw.  
Any time there's any kind of discussion of race, it's kind of shut  
down, and to me, I feel that's not acknowledging who I am. I'm black;  
I'm an African-American female; it's a part of me; it is my life. I  
have experiences that I would like to discuss, and share, and I feel  
like it's denied for the sake of being "colorblind."

Charles M. Blow replied:

First, A couple of studies have shown that whites are very, very  
reluctant to engage in any race-related conversation because they  
fear they will say something that will peg them as prejudiced. That  
is such a strong reaction that one scientist using brain scans and  
tests following just a basic conversation between whites and people  
of other races found that whites were cognitively and emotionally  
exhausted just after having a conversation, not even about race, with  
a person of that race.  You have to understand that's happening.

Second, this is the perfect opportunity for someone to have a  
discussion about race.  Her white friend could have asked "So why is  
it so important for you to be around other black people, and what  
difference would that make for you as a person?"  And then start to  
explore the reasons.

This conversation will not be comfortable.  Forget about the idea  
that you're going to be comfortable.  Everybody is going to be  
exhausted after this.  The caller probably will say things that her  
friends will find offensive.  There is a certain kind of tribalism  
embedded in all of society, not just American society; people have  
been grouping themselves according to common ethnic backgrounds and  
religions and whatever throughout history.  But why do we do that?

That can be a jumping off point for some interesting dialogue.  If  
someone finds something offensive, my suggestion is to say, do you  
understand how someone including me could find that to be offensive?  
Then the caller could explore why that person might be taking  
offense, if indeed they are.  That just opens more conversation and  
keeps drilling down to why we hold the beliefs that we believe.  I  
think keeping it on this very personal level is the most constructive  
kind of conversation we can have.

I definitely experience the fear of saying something racist and it's  
a relief to know that the stress I experience is supported by  
measurable evidence of cognitive and emotional exhaustion.  A Latina  
friend has described her own experience of exhaustion in being around  
white people and trying to figure out how she is being seen.  So I  
think this mental stress goes both ways.

Some part of us prefers Columbine the way it is.  Just as the caller  
longs to be around more black people, Latinos can enjoy a school  
where they are among their own, and Anglos choose other schools where  
they are also among their own.  But at Columbine and similar schools  
around the country, the language barrier magnifies everything.  
Discussing race requires every ounce of nuance and discretion I can  
muster.  Worrying about how much of that nuance will be lost in  
translation adds a whole extra dimension to the challenge.

Integration might be the more noble path, but whatever our rationale  
for our choices, given the choice, most of us choose our own tribes.  
The district's goal of destratification is The Right Thing to do, but  
incredibly difficult because we are working against our own nature,  
working against the powerful force of feeling like an outsider.

Although I enjoy every dimension of privilege and status in our  
society: I'm white, male, blue-eyed, a college graduate, a native  
English speaker, a US citizen, tall, athletic, and wealthy (not  
relative to the rest of Boulder, but definitely relative to the rest  
of the world), none of that privilege makes it any easier for me to  
face the feeling of being the outsider.

Part of me thinks I'm spending entirely too much time on something  
that's completely obvious.  On the other hand, I haven't heard many  
people pointing to this experience to explain why our community has  
divided itself up along lines of race and language and class.  
Perhaps in searching for some colorblind explanation for  
stratification, or perhaps in fear of talking about race, we overlook  
this most simple of explanations: we're trying to overcome thousands  
of years of human behavior.  Not that this hasn't ever been done  
before.  But I don't think it has ever been easy.

At the May 4th visioning meeting, Manuela, a Latina parent  
representative said to Jennifer, an Anglo parent representative, "I  
love learning from the beauty of your culture" (as it was interpreted  
with a little emphasis from Yolanda, teacher representative).  What  
an optimistic message.  That's really the point, isn't it?  Learning  
the beauty of another culture is one of the most powerful  
opportunities at Columbine; an opportunity that somehow gets lost in  
the conversation in our English-speaking neighborhood, undermined by  
the force of our underlying tribalism.  If we can change the  
conversation to focus on the joy of learning from the beauty of  
another culture, perhaps the extra effort of crossing these divisions  
will seem immediately worth the extra effort.

Take care.
-Eric