Most of those who know me know that I am a creature of habit. Today is Friday. It must be the day to listen to the weekly On Being podcast with host Krista Tibbett. This week her conversation is with the documentary investigative journalist John Biewen. The title of the conversation is “The Long View, 1: On Being White. “John Biewen is the audio program director at Duke University’s Center for Documentary Studies and host of the audio documentary podcast, Scene on Radio. In that series, John has explored whiteness, masculinity and democracy.” (On Being transcript). Much of this conversation references a podcast series on “Seeing White”.
Most of us have long realized that race is a social construct although pigmentation is not. Pigmentation changes. Many of those who identify as white may be more darkly pigmented that those who are labeled as people of color. Despite this fact. all of us have grown up in the United States with a clear concept of what is meant by the term race. Many of us who are identified as white have given little thought to our label of whiteness.
It is perhaps ironic that next week, following a 62-year absence, I am returning to live in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Although born in Chicago I spent at least 2/3rd of my childhood in Oklahoma. I grew up learning an inaccurate and distorted history of the sate which did not include the fact that long before some of my ancestors settled there the territory - later to become a state -belonged to Native Americans. I also did not learn that the word Oklahoma derives from a Choctaw Indian word meaning red people- people (Okla.) and red (humma). Neither did I learn about the Tulsa race massacre of May 31 and June 1921. It was not until the state legislature appointed a commission in 1996 to study his massacre that I and many other began to learn of it. Some historians have called this massacre the single worst incident of racial violence in
United States history. It took place in the Greenwood District of Tulsa, one of the then richest black communities in the United States.
Today, the leaders of Tulsa are writing a new chapter which celebrates its diversity in terms of nationality, “racial identification”, sexism, sexual orientation and religion. When I recently visited I observed a different city than the one where I attended high school.
It is ironic that even as I prepare to return to this city as a man who has studied and worked toward creating a more just nation I am acutely aware of my white male privilege expectations. The fact that I expect the process of the closing of the sale of my current house and the closing of the purchase of my condominium in Tulsa to go smoothly; that I expect to be treated with respect belies my status and expectations as a white male. Although I have a history of being bullied and being treated as less than because of who I am and what I profess to be my core values, a part of me expects to be treated well and am shocked when I am not.
I have, in the past, been asked to write a personal history beginning with how and at what age I learned racism. My earliest memory of consciously using racism to divert responsibility was at age 4 or 5. I clearly knew at that age- before I knew the term racism- blaming my behavior on my back playmate would get me off the hook. I could write a similar history of learning how to use my white male privilege.
The fact that I was identified as a white male at birth has given me certain advantages and privileges; how easily I transitioned from being poor and not considered suitable material for college to a person with graduate degrees required that others, including my son’s mother, buy into my “right” to be the one to attend college while we both worked to put me through college. The fact that I was chosen by a U. S. Naval Captain to apply for and later to attend the U. S. Naval Academy which included no females at that time and dining room service by a large staff of Pilipino joins the thousands of other facts of the advantages I enjoyed because I happened to be born male and to be identified as white.
One of the questions which Krista Tippett asks all her guests is their opinion of what it means to be human. If my identify is not attached to the perceived pigment of my skin, the assumptions about my X and Y chromosomes, background as a Christian, sexual orientation, education or other chance assigned labels who am I? What make me uniquely human if not these labels.
A friend of mine was, in the years following the raising of his children, serving as a Peace Corp member in Benin, Africa. He wrote to tell me that the people there did not care about his education, his struggle with alcoholism, his recovery from alcoholism, his profession, the numbers in his bank account or any of the other labels which had previously defined him, He had to ask that same question, “What does it mean to be him? What does it mean to be human?
This is the challenge for all of us. What words or labels communicate the essence of who we are. Today many of us know it is not skin pigmentation, gender, religion, nationality, sexual orientation, ancestral heritage, age, education or bank account. Is it how well we listen? Is it the extent to which we have the courage to know each other? Is It admitting to the privileges we enjoy based on artificial constructs?
Owning our privileges and rejecting the labels we have been assigned is not about shamefully hiding. It may be about relaxing into the freedom of not carrying the burden of less than by pretending to be more than.
Written October 30, 2020
Jimmy. F Pickett
coachpickett.org