A Personal Reflection on Race
[Before I start, I acknowledge how relatively fortunate I am to be able to give this post this title after 28 years of life as part of the dominant racial group in the U.S. and Canada. Those who are wrongly deemed lesser in the racial hierarchy have had to live with this cruel reality their entire lives.]
I am a white, intelligent, well-educated woman from a middle-class American family. Given only this information, maybe you are surprised that I am a space engineer with a master’s degree in mathematics who can do a set of ten pull ups and who is assertive, outspoken, and funny. But this is not a post about sexism. And you are probably not surprised to learn that I am generally successful and have the access to educational, health, and political institutions that we like to think everyone receives just by virtue of existing. The reality is that not everyone receives full access to resources and opportunities simply by virtue of existing.
These days, it is mostly not the case that individuals intentionally set out to create situations and systems that disadvantage particular groups according to our concepts of race — which is to say, racist systems. These systems and the individuals who participate in them are not “evil”. They also do not bear the same moral culpability as those who consciously choose to create or perpetuate oppressive systems. Nonetheless, the absence of “evil” and intentional inflicting of harm does not imply that perpetuating and even strengthening of these systems does not happen. Nor does it mean that those of us who were born into and now live in societies that use racist systems are not responsible for changing those systems. In fact, I believe that we are, indeed, responsible for effecting constructive change.
Hence, after 28 years of living in racist societies (the U.S. and Canada) as a member of the racially dominant group, I am finally starting to educate myself about the experiences and interests of racialized people and figure out what I can personally do to help break down racist systems. I am also continuing to examine, identify, and transform the racial biases that have been a conditioned and largely unconscious backdrop to my functioning in the world. For example, over time, I’ve observed that any friendships I’ve had with black people have been passing. My social circle has consisted almost entirely of whites or people of Asian descent my entire life. Why is this? And why do I feel uncomfortable at the thought of introducing even a hypothetical black partner to my WASP-y family? Why did my family and schools never discuss racism in a deliberate, concerted way, when it underpins so much of American life?
My perspective coming into this scrutiny: I grew up in a Boston suburb of ~70,000 people. There were many immigrants from Brazil and children of Brazilian immigrants when I was growing up. Town settlement and schools were segregated — not deliberately, not 100% split, but there was a very clear delineation between the “north” and “south” sides of town. It was rare, in my experience, for students of Brazilian descent to be in the advanced-level classes, and so I rarely interacted with them. I think that there are probably many reasons why this separation occurred, and none of them involve the students or their families being stupid, lazy, or incapable.
After high school, I lived a few blocks from Harlem for two years and worked there for one year. This gave me a more conscious glimpse into how entrenched, large-scale, and disturbing the big picture of racism in America remains. I then went to a university that was largely built using profits from the slave trade. A black physics student who advocated for black students with the school administration revealed to me how the school was still perpetuating disparities in STEM while keeping the statistics that proved that this was happening very tightly under wraps. When I moved to Canada four years ago, I became more aware of the systemic racism and genocide against Indigenous peoples that are part of Canada’s past and present — as well as the difficulties faced by immigrants in Toronto, where I live.
As I explore these complexities, I keep in mind the honesty paired with optimism, pragmatism, and hard work that I’ve seen to be effective in actually solving problems in other areas of my life. I’m not apologetic or guilty about my position in life. I’m also not trying to admonish or guilt-trip anyone else. That would just be wasted emotion that helps no one. People from disadvantaged or oppressed groups don’t need my feelings. They need my actions toward change.
So what am I going to do now? Small things, at first — building empathy being foundational. I live within a one-block radius of so many people of so many different skin tones, languages, and perspectives. Whenever I walk around in my neighbourhood, I can practice thinking the word “friend” as I pass them and ask myself what their lives and histories might be like. There is also a black engineer at my company to whom I haven’t reached out because he is both male and one of my superiors in that setting. I can ask to have a conversation with him about his experiences. I can learn about organizations that advocate for racialized people in engineering and help their members network in the industry. I can inform other people in my company about what I learn. I can practice relating to racialized people in Toronto and places I visit in a visibly friendlier and empathetic way. I can divert some of the annual donations that I make to organizations promoting Indigenous and other racialized groups. Maybe most importantly, I can commit to making learning and taking small steps a part of my life for as long as racist systems persist.