Sunday, July 27, 2008
Look right through me
A little while ago a co-worker (who is black - You'll see the relevance in a minute) volunteered to help me by letting me do a psychological assessment test on her (as part of my homework for one of the clinical psych classes, I must administer and score tests for IQ, learning disability, etc.). This was extremely nice of her, since those tests take 2-3 hours, and I'm often fumbling along, trying to find the next question or worksheet. She was being an angel.
At the end of the test, I asked her for feedback. What did she like? What did she not like? What would she recommend that I do the same, or that I do differently in the future? She mentioned a few things, and then looked at me for a couple of seconds and said "actually, ther'es one more thing and, uh, I hope You don't take this the wrong way."
I promised to let her know if I think I may be taking it the wrong way. She said "Okay. Well, You are one of the only.... um... one of the only white people that really look at me. I mean, really see me when we're interacting."
This is probably the best compliment I ever received. It's also very disturbing. We talked about this for a while. She told me about the experience of being ignored in shops, while white patrons who came after her were immediately approached by sales people; about being treated rudely in medical clinics. I told her about a story I heard a few days earlier from a white friend, who said that he often feels like black people treat him as though he's transparent - "they just look right through me" (he described how once, in a checkout line at a grocery store, the black cashier had a conversation with the man standing behind him, literally talking and looking through him).
A couple of weeks later, as I was walking from the big train station on 30th St. and Market, a young black girl was walking in front of me, in the same direction as I. A large, intimidating white man walked towards her at a good pace, and shoulder bumped her as he passed. Roughly. I was stunned, and he passed by. I felt (and still feel) absolutely horrible for not saying anything, for letting fear get the better of me, for not even protesting. Next time, I will.
What a funny place, Philadelphia. It's probably not so different from many other places, but things are closer to the surface here, easier to see. Philadelphians are very proud of the ethnic integration of the City, but the implicit and explicit inter-ethnic tension is still very real, and very raw.
For my part, I was glad to have had such an open conversation with my friends. Racial and ethnic tension is not a topic I avoid, and it doesn't make me uncomfortable. I've learned, over time, that lots of people do get uncomfortable when it's brought up explicitly, and so I became more cautious about when I discuss it, and with whom. It was nice to meet people who are willing to acknowledge that it exists, and to share their experiences. There's nothing like open air for this kind of tension.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
Wow!
Powerful affirmation of tensions underlying daily interactions and misperceptions. As important as public acts, such as electing a black mayor, are the overlooked, daily social exchanges, such as that bump in the street, that shape our understanding of our world as being friendly or hostile.
Here's to seeing and saying!
true, important and beautifully written.
As a foreign borned Chinese in America (California), I (and manay of my friends and colleagues who are Chinese) have had different experiences - often times, Chinese are harsher to their own race. I always wonder why....
Post a Comment