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That nonviolence stuff''ll get you killed

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That nonviolence stuff''ll get you killed

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This Nonviolent Stuff'll Get You Killed ebook by Charles E Cobb Jr. - Rakuten Kobo

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Read "This Nonviolent Stuff'll Get You Killed How Guns Made the Civil Rights Movement Possible" by Charles E Cobb Jr. available from Rakuten Kobo. Visiting Martin Luther King Jr. at the peak of the Montgomery, Alabama bus boycott, journalist William Worthy almost sat...

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- Lindsay Guarino, Associate Professor of Dance

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Anna Mae Mayer
Director - Mercy Center for Spiritual Life

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Create a new document and edit with others at the same time -- from your computer, phone or tablet. Get stuff done with or without an internet connection. Use Docs to edit Word files. Free from Google.

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I recently participated in a program called SACRED GROUND: A film-based dialogue series on race and faith facilitated by the Episcopal Church. This discussion group was geared toward white participants seeking understanding and education into the many faces of racism in our society. Over the course of several weeks we watched documentary films together and read numerous articles to gain a new perspective on our own white privilege and the many injustices experienced by people of color and other marginalized minorities. Two core books were recommended for the series: Jesus and the Disinherited by Howard Thurman and Waking Up White and Finding Myself in the Story of Race by Debby Irving.

Debby Irving’s book had the biggest impact on my own awakening into the unspoken privileges I’ve inherited and taken for granted growing up as a white woman in New England. I feel my journey into the topic of racism has just begun. Thank you for providing this reading list for further exploration.
- Nancy Peresta

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This list of books for young readers was compiled by a youth literature librarian in RI and offers non-fiction and fiction titles.
--Lisa Richter

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So many have already been mentioned here, but let me add:

For historical perspective:
Stephanie Jones-Rogers' They Were Her Property: White Women as Slave Owners in America

Henry Louis Gates's  Stony the Road: Reconstruction, White Supremacy, and Jim Crow

Christina Schwarz's Gay Voices of the Harlem Renaissance

Paula Giddings's Ida: A Sword Among Lions (Ida B. Wells and the Campaign against Lynching)

Rosalyn Terborg-Penn's African American Women in the Struggle for the Vote, 1850-1920

OTHER MEDIA
Anything by Spike Lee (though Bamboozled, 4 Little Girls, and When the Levees Broke: A Requiem in Four Acts come quickly to mind)

Beyonce's Lemonade (yes--Beyonce)

FX Series Pose

Donna Harrington-Lueker

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So many have already been mentioned here, but let me add:

For historical perspective:
Stephanie Jones-Rogers' They Were Her Property: White Women as Slave Owners in America

Henry Louis Gates's  Stony the Road: Reconstruction, White Supremacy, and Jim Crow

Christina Schwarz's Gay Voices of the Harlem Renaissance

Paula Giddings's Ida: A Sword Among Lions (ida B. Wells and the Campaign against Lynching)

Rosalyn Terborg-Penn's African American Women in the Struggle for the Vote, 1850-1920

OTHER MEDiA
Anything by Spike Lee (though Bamboozled, 4 Little Girls, and When the Levees Broke: A Requiem in Four Acts come quickly to mind)

Beyonce's Lemonade (yes--Beyonce)

FX Series Pose

Donna Harrington-Lueker

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-Craig Condella, Philosophy

I teach a course on Race and Sports that offers just one entry point into the complex issues regarding race in our country. From Jack Johnson to Jackie Robinson to Muhammad Ali to the Williams sisters to Colin Kaepernick, athletes have been both cultural barometers and catalysts for change. Howard Bryant's The Heritage offers a great treatment of these issues post-9/11.  And two short pieces to bookend it by Eric Reid and Kyle Korver:
https://www.theplayerstribune.com/en-us/articles/kyle-korver-utah-jazz-nba

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Opinion | Eric Reid: Why Colin Kaepernick and I Decided to Take a Knee (Published 2017)

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We chose the gesture purposefully. Our bodies were like flags flown at half-mast to mark a tragedy.

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Two hundred fifty years of slavery. Ninety years of Jim Crow. Sixty years of separate but equal. Thirty-five years of racist housing policy. Until we reckon with our compounding moral debts, America will never be whole.

Editor's note: On February 1, 2023, the College Board announced its finalized curriculum for an AP African American Studies course. It has removed work-present in the pilot program-by writers such as bell hooks, Kimberlé Crenshaw, and Ta-Nehisi Coates, the author of this article.

We've gathered dozens of the most important pieces from our archives on race and racism in America. Find the collection here.
And if thy brother, a Hebrew man, or a Hebrew woman, be sold unto thee, and serve thee six years; then in the seventh year thou shalt let him go free from thee. And when thou sendest him out free from thee, thou shalt not let him go away empty: thou shalt furnish him liberally out of thy flock, and out of thy floor, and out of thy winepress: of that wherewith t he LORD thy God hath blessed thee thou shalt give unto him. And thou shalt remember that thou wast a bondman in the land of Egypt, and the LORD thy God redeemed thee: therefore I command thee this thing today. Besides the crime which consists in violating the law, and varying from the right rule of reason, whereby a man so far becomes degenerate, and declares himself to quit the principles of human nature, and to be a noxious creature, there is commonly injury By our unpaid labor and suffering, we have earned the right to the soil, many times over and over, and now we are determined to have it. done to some person or other, and some other man receives damage by his transgression: in which case he who hath received any damage, has, besides the right of punishment common to him with other men, a particular right to seek reparation.
- Deuteronomy 15: 12-15

- John Locke, "Second Treatise"

- Anonymous, 1861

Listen to the audio version of this article: Feature stories, read aloud: download the Audm app for your iPhone.

I. "So That's Just One Of My Losses"

C lyde Ross was born in 1923, the seventh of 13 children, near Clarksdale, Mississippi, the home of the blues. Ross's parents owned and farmed a 40-acre tract of land, flush with cows, hogs, and mules. Ross's mother would drive to Clarksdale to do her shopping in a horse and buggy, in which she invested all the pride one might place in a Cadillac. The family owned another horse, with a red coat, which they gave to Clyde. The Ross family wanted for little, save that which all black families in the Deep South then desperately desired-the protection of the law.

In the 1920s, Jim Crow Mississippi was, in all facets of society, a kleptocracy. The majority of the people in the state were perpetually robbed of the vote-a hijacking engineered through the trickery of the poll tax and the muscle of the lynch mob. Between 1882 and 1968, more black people were lynched in Mississippi than in any other state. "You and I know what's the best way to keep the nigger from voting," blustered Theodore Bilbo, a Mississippi senator and a proud Klansman. "You do it the night before the election."

The state's regime partnered robbery of the franchise with robbery of the purse. Many of Mississippi's black farmers lived in debt peonage, under the sway of cotton kings who were at once their landlords, their employers, and their primary merchants. Tools and necessities were advanced against the return on the crop, which was determined by the employer. When farmers were deemed to be in debt-and they often were-the negative balance was then carried over to the next season. A man or woman who protested this arrangement did so at the risk of grave injury or death. Refusing to work meant arrest under vagrancy laws and forced labor under the state's penal system.

Well into the 20th century, black people spoke of their flight from Mississippi in much the same manner as their runagate ancestors had. In her 2010 book, The Warmth of Other Suns, Isabel Wilkerson tells the story of Eddie Earvin, a spinach picker who fled Mississippi in 1963, after being made to work at gunpoint. "You didn't talk about it or tell nobody," Earvin said. "You had to sneak away."
"Some of the land taken from black families has become a country club in Virginia," the AP reported.
When Clyde Ross was still a child, Mississippi authorities claimed his father owed $3,000 in back taxes. The elder Ross could not read. He did not have a lawyer. He did not know anyone at the local courthouse. He could not expect the police to be impartial. Effectively, the Ross family had no way to contest the claim and no protection under the law. The authorities seized the land. They seized the buggy. They took the cows, hogs, and mules. And so for the upkeep of separate but equal, the entire Ross family was reduced to sharecropping.

This was hardly unusual. In 2001, the Associated Press published a three-part investigation into the theft of black-owned land stretching back to the antebellum period. The series documented some 406 victims and 24,000 acres of land valued at tens of millions of dollars. The land was taken through means ranging from legal chicanery to terrorism. "Some of the land taken from black families has become a country club in Virginia," the AP reported, as well as "oil fields in Mississippi" and "a baseball spring training facility in Florida."

Clyde Ross was a smart child. His teacher thought he should attend a more challenging school. There was very little support for educating black people in Mississippi. But Julius Rosenwald, a part owner of Sears, Roebuck, had begun an ambitious effort to build schools for black children throughout the South. Ross's teacher believed he should attend the local Rosenwald school. It was too far for Ross to walk and get back in time to work in the fields. Local white children had a school bus. Clyde Ross did not, and thus lost the chance to better his education.

Then, when Ross was 10 years old, a group of white men demanded his only childhood possession-the horse with the red coat. "You can't have this horse. We want it," one of the white men said. They gave Ross's father $17.

"I did everything for that horse," Ross told me. "Everything. And they took him. Put him on the racetrack. I never did know what happened to him after that, but I know they didn't bring him back. So that's just one of my losses."

The losses mounted. As sharecroppers, the Ross family saw their wages treated as the landlord's slush fund. Landowners were supposed to split the profits from the cotton fields with sharecroppers. But bales would often disappear during the count, or the split might be altered on a whim. If cotton was selling for 50 cents a pound, the Ross family might get 15 cents, or only five. One year Ross's mother promised to buy him a $7 suit for a summer program at their church. She ordered the suit by mail. But that year Ross's family was paid only five cents a pound for cotton. The mailman arrived with the suit. The Rosses could not pay. The suit was sent back. Clyde Ross did not go to the church program.

It was in these early years that Ross began to understand himself as an American-he did not live under the blind decree of justice, but under the heel of a regime that elevated armed robbery to a governing principle. He thought about fighting. "Just be quiet," his father told him. "Because they'll come and kill us all."

Clyde Ross grew. He was drafted into the Army. The draft officials offered him an exemption if he stayed home and worked. He preferred to take his chances with war. He was stationed in California. He found that he could go into stores without being bothered. He could walk the streets without being harassed. He could go into a restaurant and receive service.

Ross was shipped off to Guam. He fought in World War II to save the world from tyranny. But when he returned to Clarksdale, he found that tyranny had followed him home. This was 1947, eight years before Mississippi lynched Emmett Till and tossed his broken body into the Tallahatchie River. The Great Migration, a mass exodus of 6 million African Americans that spanned most of the 20th century, was now in its second wave. The black pilgrims did not journey north simply seeking better wages and work, or bright lights and big adventures. They were fleeing the acquisitive warlords of the South. They were seeking the protection of the law.

Clyde Ross was among them. He came to Chicago in 1947 and took a job as a taster at Campbell's Soup. He made a stable wage. He married. He had children. His paycheck was his own. No Klansmen stripped him of the vote. When he walked down the street, he did not have to move because a white man was walking past. He did not have to take off his hat or avert his gaze. His journey from peonage to full citizenship seemed near-complete. Only one item was missing-a home, that final badge of entry into the sacred order of the American middle class of the Eisenhower years.

In 1961, Ross and his wife bought a house in North Lawndale, a bustling community on Chicago's West Side. North Lawndale had long been a predominantly Jewish neighborhood, but a handful of middle-class African Americans had lived there starting in the '40s. The community was anchored by the sprawling Sears, Roebuck headquarters. North Lawndale's Jewish People's Institute actively encouraged blacks to move into the neighborhood, seeking to make it a "pilot community for interracial living." In the battle for integration then being fought around the country, North Lawndale seemed to offer promising terrain. But out in the tall grass, highwaymen, nefarious as any Clarksdale kleptocrat, were lying in wait.
From the 1930s through the 1960s, black people across the country were largely cut out of the legitimate home-mortgage market.
Three months after Clyde Ross moved into his house, the boiler blew out. This would normally be a homeowner's responsibility, but in fact, Ross was not really a homeowner. His payments were made to the seller, not the bank. And Ross had not signed a normal mortgage. He'd bought "on contract": a predatory agreement that combined all the responsibilities of homeownership with all the disadvantages of renting-while offering the benefits of neither. Ross had bought his house for $27,500. The seller, not the previous homeowner but a new kind of middleman, had bought it for only $12,000 six months before selling it to Ross. In a contract sale, the seller kept the deed until the contract was paid in full-and, unlike with a normal mortgage, Ross would acquire no equity in the meantime. If he missed a single payment, he would immediately forfeit his $1,000 down payment, all his monthly payments, and the property itself.

The men who peddled contracts in North Lawndale would sell homes at inflated prices and then evict families who could not pay-taking their down payment and their monthly installments as profit. Then they'd bring in another black family, rinse, and repeat. "He loads them up with payments they can't meet," an office secretary told The Chicago Daily News of her boss, the speculator Lou Fushanis, in 1963. "Then he takes the property away from them. He's sold some of the buildings three or four times."

Ross had tried to get a legitimate mortgage in another neighborhood, but was told by a loan officer that there was no financing available. The truth was that there was no financing for people like Clyde Ross. From the 1930s through the 1960s, black people across the country were largely cut out of the legitimate home-mortgage market through means both legal and extralegal. Chicago whites employed every measure, from "restrictive covenants" to bombings, to keep their neighborhoods segregated.

Their efforts were buttressed by the federal government. In 1934, Congress created the Federal Housing Administration. The FHA insured private mortgages, causing a drop in interest rates and a decline in the size of the down payment required to buy a house. But an insured mortgage was not a possibility for Clyde Ross. The FHA had adopted a system of maps that rated neighborhoods according to their perceived stability. On the maps, green areas, rated "A," indicated "in demand" neighborhoods that, as one appraiser put it, lacked "a single foreigner or Negro." These neighborhoods were considered excellent prospects for insurance. Neighborhoods where black people lived were rated "D" and were usually considered ineligible for FHA backing. They were colored in red. Neither the percentage of black people living there nor their social class mattered. Black people were viewed as a contagion. Redlining went beyond FHA-backed loans and spread to the entire mortgage industry, which was already rife with racism, excluding black people from most legitimate means of obtaining a mortgage.

"A government offering such bounty to builders and lenders could have required compliance with a nondiscrimination policy," Charles Abrams, the urban-studies expert who helped create the New York City Housing Authority, wrote in 1955. "Instead, the FHA adopted a racial policy that could well have been culled from the Nuremberg laws."

The devastating effects are cogently outlined by Melvin L. Oliver and Thomas M. Shapiro in their 1995 book, Black Wealth/White Wealth:

Locked out of the greatest mass-based opportunity for wealth accumulation in American history, African Americans who desired and were able to afford home ownership found themselves consigned to central-city communities where their investments were affected by the "self-fulfilling prophecies" of the FHA appraisers: cut off from sources of new investment[,] their homes and communities deteriorated and lost value in comparison to those homes and communities that FHA appraisers deemed desirable.

In Chicago and across the country, whites looking to achieve the American dream could rely on a legitimate credit system backed by the government. Blacks were herded into the sights of unscrupulous lenders who took them for money and for sport. "It was like people who like to go out and shoot lions in Africa. It was the same thrill," a housing attorney told the historian Beryl Satter in her 2009 book, Family Properties. "The thrill of the chase and the kill."

The kill was profitable. At the time of his death, Lou Fushanis owned more than 600 properties, many of them in North Lawndale, and his estate was estimated to be worth $3 million. He'd made much of this money by exploiting the frustrated hopes of black migrants like Clyde Ross. During this period, according to one estimate, 85 percent of all black home buyers who bought in Chicago bought on contract. "If anybody who is well established in this business in Chicago doesn't earn $100,000 a year," a contract seller told The Saturday Evening Post in 1962, "he is loafing."

Contract sellers became rich. North Lawndale became a ghetto.

Clyde Ross still lives there. He still owns his home. He is 91, and the emblems of survival are all around him-awards for service in his community, pictures of his children in cap and gown. But when I asked him about his home in North Lawndale, I heard only anarchy.

"We were ashamed. We did not want anyone to know that we were that ignorant," Ross told me. He was sitting at his dining-room table. His glasses were as thick as his Clarksdale drawl. "I'd come out of Mississippi where there was one mess, and come up here and got in another mess. So how dumb am I? I didn't want anyone to know how dumb I was.

"When I found myself caught up in it, I said, 'How? I just left this mess. I just left no laws. And no regard. And then I come here and get cheated wide open.' I would probably want to do some harm to some people, you know, if I had been violent like some of us. I thought, 'Man, I got caught up in this stuff. I can't even take care of my kids.' I didn't have enough for my kids. You could fall through the cracks easy fighting these white people. And no law."
Blacks were herded into the sights of unscrupulous lenders who took them for money and for sport.
But fight Clyde Ross did. In 1968 he joined the newly formed Contract Buyers League -a collection of black homeowners on Chicago's South and West Sides, all of whom had been locked into the same system of predation. There was Howell Collins, whose contract called for him to pay $25,500 for a house that a speculator had bought for $14,500. There was Ruth Wells, who'd managed to pay out half her contract, expecting a mortgage, only to suddenly see an insurance bill materialize out of thin air-a requirement the seller had added without Wells's knowledge. Contract sellers used every tool at their disposal to pilfer from their clients. They scared white residents into selling low. They lied about properties' compliance with building codes, then left the buyer responsible when city inspectors arrived. They presented themselves as real-estate brokers, when in fact they were the owners. They guided their clients to lawyers who were in on the scheme.

The Contract Buyers League fought back. Members-who would eventually number more than 500-went out to the posh suburbs where the speculators lived and embarrassed them by knocking on their neighbors' doors and informing them of the details of the contract-lending trade. They refused to pay their installments, instead holding monthly payments in an escrow account. Then they brought a suit against the contract sellers, accusing them of buying properties and reselling in such a manner "to reap from members of the Negro race large and unjust profits."

Video: The Contract Buyers League

In return for the "deprivations of their rights and privileges under the Thirteenth and Fourteenth Amendments," the league demanded "prayers for relief"-payback of all moneys paid on contracts and all moneys paid for structural improvement of properties, at 6 percent interest minus a "fair, non-discriminatory" rental price for time of occupation. Moreover, the league asked the court to adjudge that the defendants had "acted willfully and maliciously and that malice is the gist of this action."

Ross and the Contract Buyers League were no longer appealing to the government simply for equality. They were no longer fleeing in hopes of a better deal elsewhere. They were charging society with a crime against their community. They wanted the crime publicly ruled as such. They wanted the crime's executors declared to be offensive to society. And they wanted restitution for the great injury brought upon them by said offenders. In 1968, Clyde Ross and the Contract Buyers League were no longer simply seeking the protection of the law. They were seeking reparations.

II. "A Difference of Kind, Not Degree"

According to the most-recent statistics, North Lawndale is now on the wrong end of virtually every socioeconomic indicator. In 1930 its population was 112,000. Today it is 36,000. The halcyon talk of "interracial living" is dead. The neighborhood is 92 percent black. Its homicide rate is 45 per 100,000-triple the rate of the city as a whole. The infant-mortality rate is 14 per 1,000-more than twice the national average. Forty-three percent of the people in North Lawndale live below the poverty line-double Chicago's overall rate. Forty-five percent of all households are on food stamps-nearly three times the rate of the city at large. Sears, Roebuck left the neighborhood in 1987, taking 1,800 jobs with it. Kids in North Lawndale need not be confused about their prospects: Cook County's Juvenile Temporary Detention Center sits directly adjacent to the neighborhood.

North Lawndale is an extreme portrait of the trends that ail black Chicago. Such is the magnitude of these ailments that it can be said that blacks and whites do not inhabit the same city. The average per capita income of Chicago's white neighborhoods is almost three times that of its black neighborhoods. When the Harvard sociologist Robert J. Sampson examined incarceration rates in Chicago in his 2012 book, Great American City, he found that a black neighborhood with one of the highest incarceration rates (West Garfield Park) had a rate more than 40 times as high as the white neighborhood with the highest rate (Clearing). "This is a staggering differential, even for community-level comparisons," Sampson writes. "A difference of kind, not degree."

In other words, Chicago's impoverished black neighborhoods-characterized by high unemployment and households headed by single parents-are not simply poor; they are "ecologically distinct." This "is not simply the same thing as low economic status," writes Sampson. "In this pattern Chicago is not alone."

The lives of black Americans are better than they were half a century ago. The humiliation of Whites Only signs are gone. Rates of black poverty have decreased. Black teen-pregnancy rates are at record lows-and the gap between black and white teen-pregnancy rates has shrunk significantly. But such progress rests on a shaky foundation, and fault lines are everywhere. The income gap between black and white households is roughly the same today as it was in 1970. Patrick Sharkey, a sociologist at New York University, studied children born from 1955 through 1970 and found that 4 percent of whites and 62 percent of blacks across America had been raised in poor neighborhoods. A generation later, the same study showed, virtually nothing had changed. And whereas whites born into affluent neighborhoods tended to remain in affluent neighborhoods, blacks tended to fall out of them.

This is not surprising. Black families, regardless of income, are significantly less wealthy than white families. The Pew Research Center estimates that white households are worth roughly 20 times as much as black households, and that whereas only 15 percent of whites have zero or negative wealth, more than a third of blacks do. Effectively, the black family in America is working without a safety net. When financial calamity strikes-a medical emergency, divorce, job loss-the fall is precipitous.

And just as black families of all incomes remain handicapped by a lack of wealth, so too do they remain handicapped by their restricted choice of neighborhood. Black people with upper-middle-class incomes do not generally live in upper-middle-class neighborhoods. Sharkey's research shows that black families making $100,000 typically live in the kinds of neighborhoods inhabited by white families making $30,000. "Blacks and whites inhabit such different neighborhoods," Sharkey writes, "that it is not possible to compare the economic outcomes of black and white children."

A national real-estate association advised not to sell to "a colored man of means who was giving his children a college education."

The implications are chilling. As a rule, poor black people do not work their way out of the ghetto-and those who do often face the horror of watching their children and grandchildren tumble back.

Even seeming evidence of progress withers under harsh light. In 2012, the Manhattan Institute cheerily noted that segregation had declined since the 1960s. And yet African Americans still remained-by far-the most segregated ethnic group in the country.

With segregation, with the isolation of the injured and the robbed, comes the concentration of disadvantage. An unsegregated America might see poverty, and all its effects, spread across the country with no particular bias toward skin color. Instead, the concentration of poverty has been paired with a concentration of melanin. The resulting conflagration has been devastating.

One thread of thinking in the African American community holds that these depressing numbers partially stem from cultural pathologies that can be altered through individual grit and exceptionally good behavior. (In 2011, Philadelphia Mayor Michael Nutter, responding to violence among young black males, put the blame on the family: "Too many men making too many babies they don't want to take care of, and then we end up dealing with your children." Nutter turned to those presumably fatherless babies: "Pull your pants up and buy a belt, because no one wants to see your underwear or the crack of your butt.") The thread is as old as black politics itself. It is also wrong. The kind of trenchant racism to which black people have persistently been subjected can never be defeated by making its victims more respectable. The essence of American racism is disrespect. And in the wake of the grim numbers, we see the grim inheritance.

The Contract Buyers League's suit brought by Clyde Ross and his allies took direct aim at this inheritance. The suit was rooted in Chicago's long history of segregation, which had created two housing markets-one legitimate and backed by the government, the other lawless and patrolled by predators. The suit dragged on until 1976, when the league lost a jury trial. Securing the equal protection of the law proved hard; securing reparations proved impossible. If there were any doubts about the mood of the jury, the foreman removed them by saying, when asked about the verdict, that he hoped it would help end "the mess Earl Warren made with Brown v. Board of Education and all that nonsense."
An unsegregated America might see poverty spread across the country, with no particular bias toward skin color.
The Supreme Court seems to share that sentiment. The past two decades have witnessed a rollback of the progressive legislation of the 1960s. Liberals have found themselves on the defensive. In 2008, when Barack Obama was a candidate for president, he was asked whether his daughters-Malia and Sasha-should benefit from affirmative action. He answered in the negative.

The exchange rested upon an erroneous comparison of the average American white family and the exceptional first family. In the contest of upward mobility, Barack and Michelle Obama have won. But they've won by being twice as good-and enduring twice as much. Malia and Sasha Obama enjoy privileges beyond the average white child's dreams. But that comparison is incomplete. The more telling question is how they compare with Jenna and Barbara Bush-the products of many generations of privilege, not just one. Whatever the Obama children achieve, it will be evidence of their family's singular perseverance, not of broad equality.

III. "We Inherit Our Ample Patrimony"

In 1783, the freedwoman Belinda Royall petitioned the commonwealth of Massachusetts for reparations. Belinda had been born in modern-day Ghana. She was kidnapped as a child and sold into slavery. She endured the Middle Passage and 50 years of enslavement at the hands of Isaac Royall and his son. But the junior Royall, a British loyalist, fled the country during the Revolution. Belinda, now free after half a century of labor, beseeched the nascent Massachusetts legislature:

The face of your Petitioner, is now marked with the furrows of time, and her frame bending under the oppression of years, while she, by the Laws of the Land, is denied the employment of one morsel of that immense wealth, apart whereof hath been accumilated by her own industry, and the whole augmented by her servitude.

WHEREFORE, casting herself at your feet if your honours, as to a body of men, formed for the extirpation of vassalage, for the reward of Virtue, and the just return of honest industry-she prays, that such allowance may be made her out of the Estate of Colonel Royall, as will prevent her, and her more infirm daughter, from misery in the greatest extreme, and scatter comfort over the short and downward path of their lives.

Belinda Royall was granted a pension of 15 pounds and 12 shillings, to be paid out of the estate of Isaac Royall-one of the earliest successful attempts to petition for reparations. At the time, black people in America had endured more than 150 years of enslavement, and the idea that they might be owed something in return was, if not the national consensus, at least not outrageous.

"A heavy account lies against us as a civil society for oppressions committed against people who did not injure us," wrote the Quaker John Woolman in 1769, "and that if the particular case of many individuals were fairly stated, it would appear that there was considerable due to them."

As the historian Roy E. Finkenbine has documented, at the dawn of this country, black reparations were actively considered and often effected. Quakers in New York, New England, and Baltimore went so far as to make "membership contingent upon compensating one's former slaves." In 1782, the Quaker Robert Pleasants emancipated his 78 slaves, granted them 350 acres, and later built a school on their property and provided for their education. "The doing of this justice to the injured Africans," wrote Pleasants, "would be an acceptable offering to him who 'Rules in the kingdom of men.' "

Edward Coles, a protégé of Thomas Jefferson who became a slaveholder through inheritance, took many of his slaves north and granted them a plot of land in Illinois. John Randolph, a cousin of Jefferson's, willed that all his slaves be emancipated upon his death, and that all those older than 40 be given 10 acres of land. "I give and bequeath to all my slaves their freedom," Randolph wrote, "heartily regretting that I have been the owner of one."

In his book Forever Free, Eric Foner recounts the story of a disgruntled planter reprimanding a freedman loafing on the job:

Planter: "You lazy nigger, I am losing a whole day's labor by you."

Freedman: "Massa, how many days' labor have I lost by you?"

In the 20th century, the cause of reparations was taken up by a diverse cast that included the Confederate veteran Walter R. Vaughan, who believed that reparations would be a stimulus for the South; the black activist Callie House; black-nationalist leaders like "Queen Mother" Audley Moore; and the civil-rights activist James Forman. The movement coalesced in 1987 under an umbrella organization called the National Coalition of Blacks for Reparations in America (N'COBRA). The NAACP endorsed reparations in 1993. Charles J. Ogletree Jr., a professor at Harvard Law School, has pursued reparations claims in court.

But while the people advocating reparations have changed over time, the response from the country has remained virtually the same. "They have been taught to labor," the Chicago Tribune editorialized in 1891. "They have been taught Christian civilization, and to speak the noble English language instead of some African gibberish. The account is square with the ex‑slaves."

Not exactly. Having been enslaved for 250 years, black people were not left to their own devices. They were terrorized. In the Deep South, a second slavery ruled. In the North, legislatures, mayors, civic associations, banks, and citizens all colluded to pin black people into ghettos, where they were overcrowded, overcharged, and undereducated. Businesses discriminated against them, awarding them the worst jobs and the worst wages. Police brutalized them in the streets. And the notion that black lives, black bodies, and black wealth were rightful targets remained deeply rooted in the broader society. Now we have half-stepped away from our long centuries of despoilment, promising, "Never again." But still we are haunted. It is as though we have run up a credit-card bill and, having pledged to charge no more, remain befuddled that the balance does not disappear. The effects of that balance, interest accruing daily, are all around us.

Broach the topic of reparations today and a barrage of questions inevitably follows: Who will be paid? How much will they be paid? Who will pay? But if the practicalities, not the justice, of reparations are the true sticking point, there has for some time been the beginnings of a solution. For the past 25 years, Congressman John Conyers Jr., who represents the Detroit area, has marked every session of Congress by introducing a bill calling for a congressional study of slavery and its lingering effects as well as recommendations for "appropriate remedies."

A country curious about how reparations might actually work has an easy solution in Conyers's bill, now called HR 40, the Commission to Study Reparation Proposals for African Americans Act. We would support this bill, submit the question to study, and then assess the possible solutions. But we are not interested.

"It's because it's black folks making the claim," Nkechi Taifa, who helped found N'COBRA, says. "People who talk about reparations are considered left lunatics. But all we are talking about is studying [reparations]. As John Conyers has said, we study everything. We study the water, the air. We can't even study the issue? This bill does not authorize one red cent to anyone."

That HR 40 has never-under either Democrats or Republicans-made it to the House floor suggests our concerns are rooted not in the impracticality of reparations but in something more existential. If we conclude that the conditions in North Lawndale and black America are not inexplicable but are instead precisely what you'd expect of a community that for centuries has lived in America's crosshairs, then what are we to make of the world's oldest democracy?

One cannot escape the question by hand-waving at the past, disavowing the acts of one's ancestors, nor by citing a recent date of ancestral immigration. The last slaveholder has been dead for a very long time. The last soldier to endure Valley Forge has been dead much longer. To proudly claim the veteran and disown the slaveholder is patriotism à la carte. A nation outlives its generations. We were not there when Washington crossed the Delaware, but Emanuel Gottlieb Leutze's rendering has meaning to us. We were not there when Woodrow Wilson took us into World War I, but we are still paying out the pensions. If Thomas Jefferson's genius matters, then so does his taking of Sally Hemings's body. If George Washington crossing the Delaware matters, so must his ruthless pursuit of the runagate Oney Judge.

Black families making $100,000 typically live in the kinds of neighborhoods inhabited by white families making $30,000.

In 1909, President William Howard Taft told the country that "intelligent" white southerners were ready to see blacks as "useful members of the community." A week later Joseph Gordon, a black man, was lynched outside Greenwood, Mississippi. The high point of the lynching era has passed. But the memories of those robbed of their lives still live on in the lingering effects. Indeed, in America there is a strange and powerful belief that if you stab a black person 10 times, the bleeding stops and the healing begins the moment the assailant drops the knife. We believe white dominance to be a fact of the inert past, a delinquent debt that can be made to disappear if only we don't look.

There has always been another way. "It is in vain to alledge, that our ancestors brought them hither, and not we," Yale President Timothy Dwight said in 1810.

We inherit our ample patrimony with all its incumbrances; and are bound to pay the debts of our ancestors. This debt, particularly, we are bound to discharge: and, when the righteous Judge of the Universe comes to reckon with his servants, he will rigidly exact the payment at our hands. To give them liberty, and stop here, is to entail upon them a curse.

IV. "The Ills That Slavery Frees Us From"

America begins in black plunder and white democracy, two features that are not contradictory but complementary. "The men who came together to found the independent United States, dedicated to freedom and equality, either held slaves or were willing to join hands with those who did," the historian Edmund S. Morgan wrote. "None of them felt entirely comfortable about the fact, but neither did they feel responsible for it. Most of them had inherited both their slaves and their attachment to freedom from an earlier generation, and they knew the two were not unconnected."

When enslaved Africans, plundered of their bodies, plundered of their families, and plundered of their labor, were brought to the colony of Virginia in 1619, they did not initially endure the naked racism that would engulf their progeny. Some of them were freed. Some of them intermarried. Still others escaped with the white indentured servants who had suffered as they had. Some even rebelled together, allying under Nathaniel Bacon to torch Jamestown in 1676.

One hundred years later, the idea of slaves and poor whites joining forces would shock the senses, but in the early days of the English colonies, the two groups had much in common. English visitors to Virginia found that its masters "abuse their servantes with intollerable oppression and hard usage." White servants were flogged, tricked into serving beyond their contracts, and traded in much the same manner as slaves.

This "hard usage" originated in a simple fact of the New World-land was boundless but cheap labor was limited. As life spans increased in the colony, the Virginia planters found in the enslaved Africans an even more efficient source of cheap labor. Whereas indentured servants were still legal subjects of the English crown and thus entitled to certain protections, African slaves entered the colonies as aliens. Exempted from the protections of the crown, they became early America's indispensable working class-fit for maximum exploitation, capable of only minimal resistance.

For the next 250 years, American law worked to reduce black people to a class of untouchables and raise all white men to the level of citizens. In 1650, Virginia mandated that "all persons except Negroes" were to carry arms. In 1664, Maryland mandated that any Englishwoman who married a slave must live as a slave of her husband's master. In 1705, the Virginia assembly passed a law allowing for the dismemberment of unruly slaves-but forbidding masters from whipping "a Christian white servant naked, without an order from a justice of the peace." In that same law, the colony mandated that "all horses, cattle, and hogs, now belonging, or that hereafter shall belong to any slave" be seized and sold off by the local church, the profits used to support "the poor of the said parish." At that time, there would have still been people alive who could remember blacks and whites joining to burn down Jamestown only 29 years before. But at the beginning of the 18th century, two primary classes were enshrined in America.

"The two great divisions of society are not the rich and poor, but white and black," John C. Calhoun, South Carolina's senior senator, declared on the Senate floor in 1848. "And all the former, the poor as well as the rich, belong to the upper class, and are respected and treated as equals."

In 1860, the majority of people living in South Carolina and Mississippi, almost half of those living in Georgia, and about one-third of all Southerners were on the wrong side of Calhoun's line. The state with the largest number of enslaved Americans was Virginia, where in certain counties some 70 percent of all people labored in chains. Nearly one-fourth of all white Southerners owned slaves, and upon their backs the economic basis of America-and much of the Atlantic world-was erected. In the seven cotton states, one-third of all white income was derived from slavery. By 1840, cotton produced by slave labor constituted 59 percent of the country's exports. The web of this slave society extended north to the looms of New England, and across the Atlantic to Great Britain, where it powered a great economic transformation and altered the trajectory of world history. "Whoever says Industrial Revolution," wrote the historian Eric J. Hobsbawm, "says cotton."

The wealth accorded America by slavery was not just in what the slaves pulled from the land but in the slaves themselves. "In 1860, slaves as an asset were worth more than all of America's manufacturing, all of the railroads, all of the productive capacity of the United States put together," the Yale historian David W. Blight has noted. "Slaves were the single largest, by far, financial asset of property in the entire American economy." The sale of these slaves-"in whose bodies that money congealed," writes Walter Johnson, a Harvard historian-generated even more ancillary wealth. Loans were taken out for purchase, to be repaid with interest. Insurance policies were drafted against the untimely death of a slave and the loss of potential profits. Slave sales were taxed and notarized. The vending of the black body and the sundering of the black family became an economy unto themselves, estimated to have brought in tens of millions of dollars to antebellum America. In 1860 there were more millionaires per capita in the Mississippi Valley than anywhere else in the country.

Beneath the cold numbers lay lives divided. "I had a constant dread that Mrs. Moore, her mistress, would be in want of money and sell my dear wife," a freedman wrote, reflecting on his time in slavery. "We constantly dreaded a final separation. Our affection for each was very strong, and this made us always apprehensive of a cruel parting."

Forced partings were common in the antebellum South. A slave in some parts of the region stood a 30 percent chance of being sold in his or her lifetime. Twenty-five percent of interstate trades destroyed a first marriage and half of them destroyed a nuclear family.

When the wife and children of Henry Brown, a slave in Richmond, Virginia, were to be sold away, Brown searched for a white master who might buy his wife and children to keep the family together. He failed:

The next day, I stationed myself by the side of the road, along which the slaves, amounting to three hundred and fifty, were to pass. The purchaser of my wife was a Methodist minister, who was about starting for North Carolina. Pretty soon five waggon-loads of little children passed, and looking at the foremost one, what should I see but a little child, pointing its tiny hand towards me, exclaiming, "There's my father; I knew he would come and bid me good-bye." It was my eldest child! Soon the gang approached in which my wife was chained. I looked, and beheld her familiar face; but O, reader, that glance of agony! may God spare me ever again enduring the excruciating horror of that moment! She passed, and came near to where I stood. I seized hold of her hand, intending to bid her farewell; but words failed me; the gift of utterance had fled, and I remained speechless. I followed her for some distance, with her hand grasped in mine, as if to save her from her fate, but I could not speak, and I was obliged to turn away in silence.

In a time when telecommunications were primitive and blacks lacked freedom of movement, the parting of black families was a kind of murder. Here we find the roots of American wealth and democracy-in the for-profit destruction of the most important asset available to any people, the family. The destruction was not incidental to America's rise; it facilitated that rise. By erecting a slave society, America created the economic foundation for its great experiment in democracy. The labor strife that seeded Bacon's rebellion was suppressed. America's indispensable working class existed as property beyond the realm of politics, leaving white Americans free to trumpet their love of freedom and democratic values. Assessing antebellum democracy in Virginia, a visitor from England observed that the state's natives "can profess an unbounded love of liberty and of democracy in consequence of the mass of the people, who in other countries might become mobs, being there nearly altogether composed of their own Negro slaves."

V. The Quiet Plunder

The consequences of 250 years of enslavement, of war upon black families and black people, were profound. Like homeownership today, slave ownership was aspirational, attracting not just those who owned slaves but those who wished to. Much as homeowners today might discuss the addition of a patio or the painting of a living room, slaveholders traded tips on the best methods for breeding workers, exacting labor, and doling out punishment. Just as a homeowner today might subscribe to a magazine like This Old House, slaveholders had journals such as De Bow's Review, which recommended the best practices for wringing profits from slaves. By the dawn of the Civil War, the enslavement of black America was thought to be so foundational to the country that those who sought to end it were branded heretics worthy of death. Imagine what would happen if a president today came out in favor of taking all American homes from their owners: the reaction might well be violent.

"This country was formed for the white, not for the black man," John Wilkes Booth wrote, before killing Abraham Lincoln. "And looking upon African slavery from the same standpoint held by those noble framers of our Constitution, I for one have ever considered it one of the greatest blessings (both for themselves and us) that God ever bestowed upon a favored nation."

In the aftermath of the Civil War, Radical Republicans attempted to reconstruct the country upon something resembling universal equality-but they were beaten back by a campaign of "Redemption," led by White Liners, Red Shirts, and Klansmen bent on upholding a society "formed for the white, not for the black man." A wave of terrorism roiled the South. In his massive history Reconstruction, Eric Foner recounts incidents of black people being attacked for not removing their hats; for refusing to hand over a whiskey flask; for disobeying church procedures; for "using insolent language"; for disputing labor contracts; for refusing to be "tied like a slave." Sometimes the attacks were intended simply to "thin out the niggers a little."

Terrorism carried the day. Federal troops withdrew from the South in 1877. The dream of Reconstruction died. For the next century, political violence was visited upon blacks wantonly, with special treatment meted out toward black people of ambition. Black schools and churches were burned to the ground. Black voters and the political candidates who attempted to rally them were intimidated, and some were murdered. At the end of World War I, black veterans returning to their homes were assaulted for daring to wear the American uniform. The demobilization of soldiers after the war, which put white and black veterans into competition for scarce jobs, produced the Red Summer of 1919: a succession of racist pogroms against dozens of cities ranging from Longview, Texas, to Chicago to Washington, D.C. Organized white violence against blacks continued into the 1920s-in 1921 a white mob leveled Tulsa's "Black Wall Street," and in 1923 another one razed the black town of Rosewood, Florida-and virtually no one was punished.

The work of mobs was a rabid and violent rendition of prejudices that extended even into the upper reaches of American government. The New Deal is today remembered as a model for what progressive government should do-cast a broad social safety net that protects the poor and the afflicted while building the middle class. When progressives wish to express their disappointment with Barack Obama, they point to the accomplishments of Franklin Roosevelt. But these progressives rarely note that Roosevelt's New Deal, much like the democracy that produced it, rested on the foundation of Jim Crow.

"The Jim Crow South," writes Ira Katznelson, a history and political-science professor at Columbia, "was the one collaborator America's democracy could not do without." The marks of that collaboration are all over the New Deal. The omnibus programs passed under the Social Security Act in 1935 were crafted in such a way as to protect the southern way of life. Old-age insurance (Social Security proper) and unemployment insurance excluded farmworkers and domestics-jobs heavily occupied by blacks. When President Roosevelt signed Social Security into law in 1935, 65 percent of African Americans nationally and between 70 and 80 percent in the South were ineligible. The NAACP protested, calling the new American safety net "a sieve with holes just big enough for the majority of Negroes to fall through."

The oft-celebrated G.I. Bill similarly failed black Americans, by mirroring the broader country's insistence on a racist housing policy. Though ostensibly color-blind, Title III of the bill, which aimed to give veterans access to low-interest home loans, left black veterans to tangle with white officials at their local Veterans Administration as well as with the same banks that had, for years, refused to grant mortgages to blacks. The historian Kathleen J. Frydl observes in her 2009 book, The GI Bill, that so many blacks were disqualified from receiving Title III benefits "that it is more accurate simply to say that blacks could not use this particular title."

In Cold War America, homeownership was seen as a means of instilling patriotism, and as a civilizing and anti-radical force. "No man who owns his own house and lot can be a Communist," claimed William Levitt, who pioneered the modern suburb with the development of the various Levittowns, his famous planned communities. "He has too much to do."

But the Levittowns were, with Levitt's willing acquiescence, segregated throughout their early years. Daisy and Bill Myers, the first black family to move into Levittown, Pennsylvania, were greeted with protests and a burning cross. A neighbor who opposed the family said that Bill Myers was "probably a nice guy, but every time I look at him I see $2,000 drop off the value of my house."

The neighbor had good reason to be afraid. Bill and Daisy Myers were from the other side of John C. Calhoun's dual society. If they moved next door, housing policy almost guaranteed that their neighbors' property values would decline.

Whereas shortly before the New Deal, a typical mortgage required a large down payment and full repayment within about 10 years, the creation of the Home Owners' Loan Corporation in 1933 and then the Federal Housing Administration the following year allowed banks to offer loans requiring no more than 10 percent down, amortized over 20 to 30 years. "Without federal intervention in the housing market, massive suburbanization would have been impossible," writes Thomas J. Sugrue, a historian at the University of Pennsylvania. "In 1930, only 30 percent of Americans owned their own homes; by 1960, more than 60 percent were home owners. Home ownership became an emblem of American citizenship."

That emblem was not to be awarded to blacks. The American real-estate industry believed segregation to be a moral principle. As late as 1950, the National Association of Real Estate Boards' code of ethics warned that "a Realtor should never be instrumental in introducing into a neighborhood ... any race or nationality, or any individuals whose presence will clearly be detrimental to property values." A 1943 brochure specified that such potential undesirables might include madams, bootleggers, gangsters-and "a colored man of means who was giving his children a college education and thought they were entitled to live among whites."

The federal government concurred. It was the Home Owners' Loan Corporation, not a private trade association, that pioneered the practice of redlining, selectively granting loans and insisting that any property it insured be covered by a restrictive covenant-a clause in the deed forbidding the sale of the property to anyone other than whites. Millions of dollars flowed from tax coffers into segregated white neighborhoods.
One man said his black neighbor was "probably a nice guy, but every time I look at him I see $2,000 drop off the value of my house."
"For perhaps the first time, the federal government embraced the discriminatory attitudes of the marketplace," the historian Kenneth T. Jackson wrote in his 1985 book, Crabgrass Frontier, a history of suburbanization. "Previously, prejudices were personalized and individualized; FHA exhorted segregation and enshrined it as public policy. Whole areas of cities were declared ineligible for loan guarantees." Redlining was not officially outlawed until 1968, by the Fair Housing Act. By then the damage was done-and reports of redlining by banks have continued.

The federal government is premised on equal fealty from all its citizens, who in return are to receive equal treatment. But as late as the mid-20th century, this bargain was not granted to black people, who repeatedly paid a higher price for citizenship and received less in return. Plunder had been the essential feature of slavery, of the society described by Calhoun. But practically a full century after the end of the Civil War and the abolition of slavery, the plunder-quiet, systemic, submerged-continued even amidst the aims and achievements of New Deal liberals.

VI. Making The Second Ghetto

Today Chicago is one of the most segregated cities in the country, a fact that reflects assiduous planning. In the effort to uphold white supremacy at every level down to the neighborhood, Chicago-a city founded by the black fur trader Jean Baptiste Point du Sable-has long been a pioneer. The efforts began in earnest in 1917, when the Chicago Real Estate Board, horrified by the influx of southern blacks, lobbied to zone the entire city by race. But after the Supreme Court ruled against explicit racial zoning that year, the city was forced to pursue its agenda by more-discreet means.

Like the Home Owners' Loan Corporation, the Federal Housing Administration initially insisted on restrictive covenants, which helped bar blacks and other ethnic undesirables from receiving federally backed home loans. By the 1940s, Chicago led the nation in the use of these restrictive covenants, and about half of all residential neighborhoods in the city were effectively off-limits to blacks.

It is common today to become misty-eyed about the old black ghetto, where doctors and lawyers lived next door to meatpackers and steelworkers, who themselves lived next door to prostitutes and the unemployed. This segregationist nostalgia ignores the actual conditions endured by the people living there-vermin and arson, for instance-and ignores the fact that the old ghetto was premised on denying black people privileges enjoyed by white Americans.

In 1948, when the Supreme Court ruled that restrictive covenants, while permissible, were not enforceable by judicial action, Chicago had other weapons at the ready. The Illinois state legislature had already given Chicago's city council the right to approve-and thus to veto-any public housing in the city's wards. This came in handy in 1949, when a new federal housing act sent millions of tax dollars into Chicago and other cities around the country. Beginning in 1950, site selection for public housing proceeded entirely on the grounds of segregation. By the 1960s, the city had created with its vast housing projects what the historian Arnold R. Hirsch calls a "second ghetto," one larger than the old Black Belt but just as impermeable. More than 98 percent of all the family public-housing units built in Chicago between 1950 and the mid‑1960s were built in all-black neighborhoods.

Governmental embrace of segregation was driven by the virulent racism of Chicago's white citizens. White neighborhoods vulnerable to black encroachment formed block associations for the sole purpose of enforcing segregation. They lobbied fellow whites not to sell. They lobbied those blacks who did manage to buy to sell back. In 1949, a group of Englewood Catholics formed block associations intended to "keep up the neighborhood." Translation: keep black people out. And when civic engagement was not enough, when government failed, when private banks could no longer hold the line, Chicago turned to an old tool in the American repertoire-racial violence. "The pattern of terrorism is easily discernible," concluded a Chicago civic group in the 1940s. "It is at the seams of the black ghetto in all directions." On July 1 and 2 of 1946, a mob of thousands assembled in Chicago's Park Manor neighborhood, hoping to eject a black doctor who'd recently moved in. The mob pelted the house with rocks and set the garage on fire. The doctor moved away.

In 1947, after a few black veterans moved into the Fernwood section of Chicago, three nights of rioting broke out; gangs of whites yanked blacks off streetcars and beat them. Two years later, when a union meeting attended by blacks in Englewood triggered rumors that a home was being "sold to niggers," blacks (and whites thought to be sympathetic to them) were beaten in the streets. In 1951, thousands of whites in Cicero, 20 minutes or so west of downtown Chicago, attacked an apartment building that housed a single black family, throwing bricks and firebombs through the windows and setting the apartment on fire. A Cook County grand jury declined to charge the rioters-and instead indicted the family's NAACP attorney, the apartment's white owner, and the owner's attorney and rental agent, charging them with conspiring to lower property values. Two years after that, whites picketed and planted explosives in South Deering, about 30 minutes from downtown Chicago, to force blacks out.

When terrorism ultimately failed, white homeowners simply fled the neighborhood. The traditional terminology, white flight, implies a kind of natural expression of preference. In fact, white flight was a triumph of social engineering, orchestrated by the shared racist presumptions of America's public and private sectors. For should any nonracist white families decide that integration might not be so bad as a matter of principle or practicality, they still had to contend with the hard facts of American housing policy: When the mid-20th-century white homeowner claimed that the presence of a Bill and Daisy Myers decreased his property value, he was not merely engaging in racist dogma-he was accurately observing the impact of federal policy on market prices. Redlining destroyed the possibility of investment wherever black people lived.

VII. "A Lot Of People Fell By The Way"

Speculators in North Lawndale, and at the edge of the black ghettos, knew there was money to be made off white panic. They resorted to "block-busting"-spooking whites into selling cheap before the neighborhood became black. They would hire a black woman to walk up and down the street with a stroller. Or they'd hire someone to call a number in the neighborhood looking for "Johnny Mae." Then they'd cajole whites into selling at low prices, informing them that the more blacks who moved in, the more the value of their homes would decline, so better to sell now. With these white-fled homes in hand, speculators then turned to the masses of black people who had streamed northward as part of the Great Migration, or who were desperate to escape the ghettos: the speculators would take the houses they'd just bought cheap through block-busting and sell them to blacks on contract.

To keep up with his payments and keep his heat on, Clyde Ross took a second job at the post office and then a third job delivering pizza. His wife took a job working at Marshall Field. He had to take some of his children out of private school. He was not able to be at home to supervise his children or help them with their homework. Money and time that Ross wanted to give his children went instead to enrich white speculators.

"The problem was the money," Ross told me. "Without the money, you can't move. You can't educate your kids. You can't give them the right kind of food. Can't make the house look good. They think this neighborhood is where they supposed to be. It changes their outlook. My kids were going to the best schools in this neighborhood, and I couldn't keep them in there."

Mattie Lewis came to Chicago from her native Alabama in the mid-'40s, when she was 21, persuaded by a friend who told her she could get a job as a hairdresser. Instead she was hired by Western Electric, where she worked for 41 years. I met Lewis in the home of her neighbor Ethel Weatherspoon. Both had owned homes in North Lawndale for more than 50 years. Both had bought their houses on contract. Both had been active with Clyde Ross in the Contract Buyers League's effort to garner restitution from contract sellers who'd operated in North Lawndale, banks who'd backed the scheme, and even the Federal Housing Administration. We were joined by Jack Macnamara, who'd been an organizing force in the Contract Buyers League when it was founded, in 1968. Our gathering had the feel of a reunion, because the writer James Alan McPherson had profiled the Contract Buyers League for The Atlantic back in 1972.

Weatherspoon bought her home in 1957. "Most of the whites started moving out," she told me. "'The blacks are coming. The blacks are coming.' They actually said that. They had signs up: Don't sell to blacks."

Before moving to North Lawndale, Lewis and her husband tried moving to Cicero after seeing a house advertised for sale there. "Sorry, I just sold it today," the Realtor told Lewis's husband. "I told him, 'You know they don't want you in Cicero,' " Lewis recalls. " 'They ain't going to let nobody black in Cicero.' "

In 1958, the couple bought a home in North Lawndale on contract. They were not blind to the unfairness. But Lewis, born in the teeth of Jim Crow, considered American piracy-black people keep on making it, white people keep on taking it-a fact of nature. "All I wanted was a house. And that was the only way I could get it. They weren't giving black people loans at that time," she said. "We thought, 'This is the way it is. We going to do it till we die, and they ain't never going to accept us. That's just the way it is.'

"The only way you were going to buy a home was to do it the way they wanted," she continued. "And I was determined to get me a house. If everybody else can have one, I want one too. I had worked for white people in the South. And I saw how these white people were living in the North and I thought, 'One day I'm going to live just like them.' I wanted cabinets and all these things these other people have."

White flight was not an accident-it was a triumph of racist social engineering.

Whenever she visited white co-workers at their homes, she saw the difference. "I could see we were just getting ripped off," she said. "I would see things and I would say, 'I'd like to do this at my house.' And they would say, 'Do it,' but I would think, 'I can't, because it costs us so much more.' "

I asked Lewis and Weatherspoon how they kept up on payments.

"You paid it and kept working," Lewis said of the contract. "When that payment came up, you knew you had to pay it."

"You cut down on the light bill. Cut down on your food bill," Weatherspoon interjected.

"You cut down on things for your child, that was the main thing," said Lewis. "My oldest wanted to be an artist and my other wanted to be a dancer and my other wanted to take music."

Lewis and Weatherspoon, like Ross, were able to keep their homes. The suit did not win them any remuneration. But it forced contract sellers to the table, where they allowed some members of the Contract Buyers League to move into regular mortgages or simply take over their houses outright. By then they'd been bilked for thousands. In talking with Lewis and Weatherspoon, I was seeing only part of the picture-the tiny minority who'd managed to hold on to their homes. But for all our exceptional ones, for every Barack and Michelle Obama, for every Ethel Weatherspoon or Clyde Ross, for every black survivor, there are so many thousands gone.

"A lot of people fell by the way," Lewis told me. "One woman asked me if I would keep all her china. She said, 'They ain't going to set you out.' "

VIII. "Negro Poverty is not White Poverty"

On a recent spring afternoon in North Lawndale, I visited Billy Lamar Brooks Sr. Brooks has been an activist since his youth in the Black Panther Party, when he aided the Contract Buyers League. I met him in his office at the Better Boys Foundation, a staple of North Lawndale whose mission is to direct local kids off the streets and into jobs and college. Brooks's work is personal. On June 14, 1991, his 19-year-old son, Billy Jr., was shot and killed. "These guys tried to stick him up," Brooks told me. "I suspect he could have been involved in some things ... He's always on my mind. Every day."

Brooks was not raised in the streets, though in such a neighborhood it is impossible to avoid the influence. "I was in church three or four times a week. That's where the girls were," he said, laughing. "The stark reality is still there. There's no shield from life. You got to go to school. I lived here. I went to Marshall High School. Over here were the Egyptian Cobras. Over there were the Vice Lords."

Brooks has since moved away from Chicago's West Side. But he is still working in North Lawndale. If "you got a nice house, you live in a nice neighborhood, then you are less prone to violence, because your space is not deprived," Brooks said. "You got a security point. You don't need no protection." But if "you grow up in a place like this, housing sucks. When they tore down the projects here, they left the high-rises and came to the neighborhood with that gang mentality. You don't have nothing, so you going to take something, even if it's not real. You don't have no street, but in your mind it's yours."

Video: The Guardian of North Lawndale

We walked over to a window behind his desk. A group of young black men were hanging out in front of a giant mural memorializing two black men: In Lovin Memory Quentin aka "Q," July 18, 1974 ❤ March 2, 2012. The name and face of the other man had been spray-painted over by a rival group. The men drank beer. Occasionally a car would cruise past, slow to a crawl, then stop. One of the men would approach the car and make an exchange, then the car would drive off. Brooks had known all of these young men as boys.

"That's their corner," he said.

We watched another car roll through, pause briefly, then drive off. "No respect, no shame," Brooks said. "That's what they do. From that alley to that corner. They don't go no farther than that. See the big brother there? He almost died a couple of years ago. The one drinking the beer back there ... I know all of them. And the reason they feel safe here is cause of this building, and because they too chickenshit to go anywhere. But that's their mentality. That's their block."

Brooks showed me a picture of a Little League team he had coached. He went down the row of kids, pointing out which ones were in jail, which ones were dead, and which ones were doing all right. And then he pointed out his son-"That's my boy, Billy," Brooks said. Then he wondered aloud if keeping his son with him while working in North Lawndale had hastened his death. "It's a definite connection, because he was part of what I did here. And I think maybe I shouldn't have exposed him. But then, I had to," he said, "because I wanted him with me."

From the White House on down, the myth holds that fatherhood is the great antidote to all that ails black people. But Billy Brooks Jr. had a father. Trayvon Martin had a father. Jordan Davis had a father. Adhering to middle-class norms has never shielded black people from plunder. Adhering to middle-class norms is what made Ethel Weatherspoon a lucrative target for rapacious speculators. Contract sellers did not target the very poor. They targeted black people who had worked hard enough to save a down payment and dreamed of the emblem of American citizenship-homeownership. It was not a tangle of pathology that put a target on Clyde Ross's back. It was not a culture of poverty that singled out Mattie Lewis for "the thrill of the chase and the kill." Some black people always will be twice as good. But they generally find white predation to be thrice as fast.
Is affirmative action meant to increase "diversity"? If so, it only tangentially relates to the specific problems of black people.
Liberals today mostly view racism not as an active, distinct evil but as a relative of white poverty and inequality. They ignore the long tradition of this country actively punishing black success-and the elevation of that punishment, in the mid-20th century, to federal policy. President Lyndon Johnson may have noted in his historic civil-rights speech at Howard University in 1965 that "Negro poverty is not white poverty." But his advisers and their successors were, and still are, loath to craft any policy that recognizes the difference.

After his speech, Johnson convened a group of civil-rights leaders, including the esteemed A. Philip Randolph and Bayard Rustin, to address the "ancient brutality." In a strategy paper, they agreed with the president that "Negro poverty is a special, and particularly destructive, form of American poverty." But when it came to specifically addressing the "particularly destructive," Rustin's group demurred, preferring to advance programs that addressed "all the poor, black and white."

The urge to use the moral force of the black struggle to address broader inequalities originates in both compassion and pragmatism. But it makes for ambiguous policy. Affirmative action's precise aims, for instance, have always proved elusive. Is it meant to make amends for the crimes heaped upon black people? Not according to the Supreme Court. In its 1978 ruling in Regents of the University of California v. Bakke, the Court rejected "societal discrimination" as "an amorphous concept of injury that may be ageless in its reach into the past." Is affirmative action meant to increase "diversity"? If so, it only tangentially relates to the specific problems of black people-the problem of what America has taken from them over several centuries.

This confusion about affirmative action's aims, along with our inability to face up to the particular history of white-imposed black disadvantage, dates back to the policy's origins. "There is no fixed and firm definition of affirmative action," an appointee in Johnson's Department of Labor declared. "Affirmative action is anything that you have to do to get results. But this does not necessarily include preferential treatment."

Yet America was built on the preferential treatment of white people-395 years of it. Vaguely endorsing a cuddly, feel-good diversity does very little to redress this.

Today, progressives are loath to invoke white supremacy as an explanation for anything. On a practical level, the hesitation comes from the dim view the Supreme Court has taken of the reforms of the 1960s. The Voting Rights Act has been gutted. The Fair Housing Act might well be next. Affirmative action is on its last legs. In substituting a broad class struggle for an anti-racist struggle, progressives hope to assemble a coalition by changing the subject.

The politics of racial evasion are seductive. But the record is mixed. Aid to Families With Dependent Children was originally written largely to exclude blacks-yet by the 1990s it was perceived as a giveaway to blacks. The Affordable Care Act makes no mention of race, but this did not keep Rush Limbaugh from denouncing it as reparations. Moreover, the act's expansion of Medicaid was effectively made optional, meaning that many poor blacks in the former Confederate states do not benefit from it. The Affordable Care Act, like Social Security, will eventually expand its reach to those left out; in the meantime, black people will be injured.

"All that it would take to sink a new WPA program would be some skillfully packaged footage of black men leaning on shovels smoking cigarettes," the sociologist Douglas S. Massey writes. "Papering over the issue of race makes for bad social theory, bad research, and bad public policy." To ignore the fact that one of the oldest republics in the world was erected on a foundation of white supremacy, to pretend that the problems of a dual society are the same as the problems of unregulated capitalism, is to cover the sin of national plunder with the sin of national lying. The lie ignores the fact that reducing American poverty and ending white supremacy are not the same. The lie ignores the fact that closing the "achievement gap" will do nothing to close the "injury gap," in which black college graduates still suffer higher unemployment rates than white college graduates, and black job applicants without criminal records enjoy roughly the same chance of getting hired as white applicants with criminal records.

Chicago, like the country at large, embraced policies that placed black America's most energetic, ambitious, and thrifty countrymen beyond the pale of society and marked them as rightful targets for legal theft. The effects reverberate beyond the families who were robbed to the community that beholds the spectacle. Don't just picture Clyde Ross working three jobs so he could hold on to his home. Think of his North Lawndale neighbors-their children, their nephews and nieces-and consider how watching this affects them. Imagine yourself as a young black child watching your elders play by all the rules only to have their possessions tossed out in the street and to have their most sacred possession-their home-taken from them.

The message the young black boy receives from his country, Billy Brooks says, is " 'You ain't shit. You not no good. The only thing you are worth is working for us. You will never own anything. You not going to get an education. We are sending your ass to the penitentiary.' They're telling you no matter how hard you struggle, no matter what you put down, you ain't shit. 'We're going to take what you got. You will never own anything, nigger.' "

IX. Toward A New Country

When Clyde Ross was a child, his older brother Winter had a seizure. He was picked up by the authorities and delivered to Parchman Farm, a 20,000-acre state prison in the Mississippi Delta region.

"He was a gentle person," Clyde Ross says of his brother. "You know, he was good to everybody. And he started having spells, and he couldn't control himself. And they had him picked up, because they thought he was dangerous."

Built at the turn of the century, Parchman was supposed to be a progressive and reformist response to the problem of "Negro crime." In fact it was the gulag of Mississippi, an object of terror to African Americans in the Delta. In the early years of the 20th century, Mississippi Governor James K. Vardaman used to amuse himself by releasing black convicts into the surrounding wilderness and hunting them down with bloodhounds. "Throughout the American South," writes David M. Oshinsky in his book Worse Than Slavery, "Parchman Farm is synonymous with punishment and brutality, as well it should be ... Parchman is the quintessential penal farm, the closest thing to slavery that survived the Civil War."

When the Ross family went to retrieve Winter, the authorities told them that Winter had died. When the Ross family asked for his body, the authorities at Parchman said they had buried him. The family never saw Winter's body.

And this was just one of their losses.

Scholars have long discussed methods by which America might make reparations to those on whose labor and exclusion the country was built. In the 1970s, the Yale Law professor Boris Bittker argued in The Case for Black Reparations that a rough price tag for reparations could be determined by multiplying the number of African Americans in the population by the difference in white and black per capita income. That number-$34 billion in 1973, when Bittker wrote his book-could be added to a reparations program each year for a decade or two. Today Charles Ogletree, the Harvard Law School professor, argues for something broader: a program of job training and public works that takes racial justice as its mission but includes the poor of all races.

To celebrate freedom and democracy while forgetting America's origins in a slavery economy is patriotism à la carte.

Perhaps no statistic better illustrates the enduring legacy of our country's shameful history of treating black people as sub-citizens, sub-Americans, and sub-humans than the wealth gap. Reparations would seek to close this chasm. But as surely as the creation of the wealth gap required the cooperation of every aspect of the society, bridging it will require the same.
When we think of white supremacy, we picture Colored Only signs, but we should picture pirate flags.
Perhaps after a serious discussion and debate-the kind that HR 40 proposes-we may find that the country can never fully repay African Americans. But we stand to discover much about ourselves in such a discussion-and that is perhaps what scares us. The idea of reparations is frightening not simply because we might lack the ability to pay. The idea of reparations threatens something much deeper-America's heritage, history, and standing in the world.

The early American economy was built on slave labor. The Capitol and the White House were built by slaves. President James K. Polk traded slaves from the Oval Office. The laments about "black pathology," the criticism of black family structures by pundits and intellectuals, ring hollow in a country whose existence was predicated on the torture of black fathers, on the rape of black mothers, on the sale of black children. An honest assessment of America's relationship to the black family reveals the country to be not its nurturer but its destroyer.

And this destruction did not end with slavery. Discriminatory laws joined the equal burden of citizenship to unequal distribution of its bounty. These laws reached their apex in the mid-20th century, when the federal government-through housing policies-engineered the wealth gap, which remains with us to this day. When we think of white supremacy, we picture Colored Only signs, but we should picture pirate flags.

On some level, we have always grasped this.

"Negro poverty is not white poverty," President Johnson said in his historic civil-rights speech.

Many of its causes and many of its cures are the same. But there are differences-deep, corrosive, obstinate differences-radiating painful roots into the community and into the family, and the nature of the individual. These differences are not racial differences. They are solely and simply the consequence of ancient brutality, past injustice, and present prejudice.

We invoke the words of Jefferson and Lincoln because they say something about our legacy and our traditions. We do this because we recognize our links to the past-at least when they flatter us. But black history does not flatter American democracy; it chastens it. The popular mocking of reparations as a harebrained scheme authored by wild-eyed lefties and intellectually unserious black nationalists is fear masquerading as laughter. Black nationalists have always perceived something unmentionable about America that integrationists dare not acknowledge-that white supremacy is not merely the work of hotheaded demagogues, or a matter of false consciousness, but a force so fundamental to America that it is difficult to imagine the country without it.

And so we must imagine a new country. Reparations-by which I mean the full acceptance of our collective biography and its consequences-is the price we must pay to see ourselves squarely. The recovering alcoholic may well have to live with his illness for the rest of his life. But at least he is not living a drunken lie. Reparations beckons us to reject the intoxication of hubris and see America as it is-the work of fallible humans.

Won't reparations divide us? Not any more than we are already divided. The wealth gap merely puts a number on something we feel but cannot say-that American prosperity was ill-gotten and selective in its distribution. What is needed is an airing of family secrets, a settling with old ghosts. What is needed is a healing of the American psyche and the banishment of white guilt.

What I'm talking about is more than recompense for past injustices-more than a handout, a payoff, hush money, or a reluctant bribe. What I'm talking about is a national reckoning that would lead to spiritual renewal. Reparations would mean the end of scarfing hot dogs on the Fourth of July while denying the facts of our heritage. Reparations would mean the end of yelling "patriotism" while waving a Confederate flag. Reparations would mean a revolution of the American consciousness, a reconciling of our self-image as the great democratizer with the facts of our history.

X. "There Will Be No 'Reparations' From Germany"

We are not the first to be summoned to such a challenge.

In 1952, when West Germany began the process of making amends for the Holocaust, it did so under conditions that should be instructive to us. Resistance was violent. Very few Germans believed that Jews were entitled to anything. Only 5 percent of West Germans surveyed reported feeling guilty about the Holocaust, and only 29 percent believed that Jews were owed restitution from the German people.

"The rest," the historian Tony Judt wrote in his 2005 book, Postwar, "were divided between those (some two-fifths of respondents) who thought that only people 'who really committed something' were responsible and should pay, and those (21 percent) who thought 'that the Jews themselves were partly responsible for what happened to them during the Third Reich.' "

Germany's unwillingness to squarely face its history went beyond polls. Movies that suggested a societal responsibility for the Holocaust beyond Hitler were banned. "The German soldier fought bravely and honorably for his homeland," claimed President Eisenhower, endorsing the Teutonic national myth. Judt wrote, "Throughout the fifties West German officialdom encouraged a comfortable view of the German past in which the Wehrmacht was heroic, while Nazis were in a minority and properly punished."

Konrad Adenauer, the postwar German chancellor, was in favor of reparations, but his own party was divided, and he was able to get an agreement passed only with the votes of the Social Democratic opposition.
"If I could take German property without sitting down with them for even a minute but go in with jeeps and machine guns," said David Ben-Gurion, "I would do that."
Among the Jews of Israel, reparations provoked violent and venomous reactions ranging from denunciation to assassination plots. On January 7, 1952, as the Knesset-the Israeli parliament-convened to discuss the prospect of a reparations agreement with West Germany, Menachem Begin, the future prime minister of Israel, stood in front of a large crowd, inveighing against the country that had plundered the lives, labor, and property of his people. Begin claimed that all Germans were Nazis and guilty of murder. His condemnations then spread to his own young state. He urged the crowd to stop paying taxes and claimed that the nascent Israeli nation characterized the fight over whether or not to accept reparations as a "war to the death." When alerted that the police watching the gathering were carrying tear gas, allegedly of German manufacture, Begin yelled, "The same gases that asphyxiated our parents!"

Begin then led the crowd in an oath to never forget the victims of the Shoah, lest "my right hand lose its cunning" and "my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth." He took the crowd through the streets toward the Knesset. From the rooftops, police repelled the crowd with tear gas and smoke bombs. But the wind shifted, and the gas blew back toward the Knesset, billowing through windows shattered by rocks. In the chaos, Begin and Prime Minister David Ben-Gurion exchanged insults. Two hundred civilians and 140 police officers were wounded. Nearly 400 people were arrested. Knesset business was halted.

Begin then addressed the chamber with a fiery speech condemning the actions the legislature was about to take. "Today you arrested hundreds," he said. "Tomorrow you may arrest thousands. No matter, they will go, they will sit in prison. We will sit there with them. If necessary, we will be killed with them. But there will be no 'reparations' from Germany."

Survivors of the Holocaust feared laundering the reputation of Germany with money, and mortgaging the memory of their dead. Beyond that, there was a taste for revenge. "My soul would be at rest if I knew there would be 6 million German dead to match the 6 million Jews," said Meir Dworzecki, who'd survived the concentration camps of Estonia.

Ben-Gurion countered this sentiment, not by repudiating vengeance but with cold calculation: "If I could take German property without sitting down with them for even a minute but go in with jeeps and machine guns to the warehouses and take it, I would do that-if, for instance, we had the ability to send a hundred divisions and tell them, 'Take it.' But we can't do that."

The reparations conversation set off a wave of bomb attempts by Israeli militants. One was aimed at the foreign ministry in Tel Aviv. Another was aimed at Chancellor Adenauer himself. And one was aimed at the port of Haifa, where the goods bought with reparations money were arriving. West Germany ultimately agreed to pay Israel 3.45 billion deutsche marks, or more than $7 billion in today's dollars. Individual reparations claims followed-for psychological trauma, for offense to Jewish honor, for halting law careers, for life insurance, for time spent in concentration camps. Seventeen percent of funds went toward purchasing ships. "By the end of 1961, these reparations vessels constituted two-thirds of the Israeli merchant fleet," writes the Israeli historian Tom Segev in his book The Seventh Million. "From 1953 to 1963, the reparations money funded about a third of the total investment in Israel's electrical system, which tripled its capacity, and nearly half the total investment in the railways."

Israel's GNP tripled during the 12 years of the agreement. The Bank of Israel attributed 15 percent of this growth, along with 45,000 jobs, to investments made with reparations money. But Segev argues that the impact went far beyond that. Reparations "had indisputable psychological and political importance," he writes.

Reparations could not make up for the murder perpetrated by the Nazis. But they did launch Germany's reckoning with itself, and perhaps provided a road map for how a great civilization might make itself worthy of the name.

Assessing the reparations agreement, David Ben-Gurion said:

For the first time in the history of relations between people, a precedent has been created by which a great State, as a result of moral pressure alone, takes it upon itself to pay compensation to the victims of the government that preceded it. For the first time in the history of a people that has been persecuted, oppressed, plundered and despoiled for hundreds of years in the countries of Europe, a persecutor and despoiler has been obliged to return part of his spoils and has even undertaken to make collective reparation as partial compensation for material losses.

Something more than moral pressure calls America to reparations. We cannot escape our history. All of our solutions to the great problems of health care, education, housing, and economic inequality are troubled by what must go unspoken. "The reason black people are so far behind now is not because of now," Clyde Ross told me. "It's because of then." In the early 2000s, Charles Ogletree went to Tulsa, Oklahoma, to meet with the survivors of the 1921 race riot that had devastated "Black Wall Street." The past was not the past to them. "It was amazing seeing these black women and men who were crippled, blind, in wheelchairs," Ogletree told me. "I had no idea who they were and why they wanted to see me. They said, 'We want you to represent us in this lawsuit.' "

A commission authorized by the Oklahoma legislature produced a report affirming that the riot, the knowledge of which had been suppressed for years, had happened. But the lawsuit ultimately failed, in 2004. Similar suits pushed against corporations such as Aetna (which insured slaves) and Lehman Brothers (whose co-founding partner owned them) also have thus far failed. These results are dispiriting, but the crime with which reparations activists charge the country implicates more than just a few towns or corporations. The crime indicts the American people themselves, at every level, and in nearly every configuration. A crime that implicates the entire American people deserves its hearing in the legislative body that represents them.

John Conyers's HR 40 is the vehicle for that hearing. No one can know what would come out of such a debate. Perhaps no number can fully capture the multi-century plunder of black people in America. Perhaps the number is so large that it can't be imagined, let alone calculated and dispensed. But I believe that wrestling publicly with these questions matters as much as-if not more than-the specific answers that might be produced. An America that asks what it owes its most vulnerable citizens is improved and humane. An America that looks away is ignoring not just the sins of the past but the sins of the present and the certain sins of the future. More important than any single check cut to any African American, the payment of reparations would represent America's maturation out of the childhood myth of its innocence into a wisdom worthy of its founders.

In 2010, Jacob S. Rugh, then a doctoral candidate at Princeton, and the sociologist Douglas S. Massey published a study of the recent foreclosure crisis. Among its drivers, they found an old foe: segregation. Black home buyers-even after controlling for factors like creditworthiness-were still more likely than white home buyers to be steered toward subprime loans. Decades of racist housing policies by the American government, along with decades of racist housing practices by American businesses, had conspired to concentrate African Americans in the same neighborhoods. As in North Lawndale half a century earlier, these neighborhoods were filled with people who had been cut off from mainstream financial institutions. When subprime lenders went looking for prey, they found black people waiting like ducks in a pen.
"Wells Fargo mortgage had an emerging-markets unit that specifically targeted black churches."
"High levels of segregation create a natural market for subprime lending," Rugh and Massey write, "and cause riskier mortgages, and thus foreclosures, to accumulate disproportionately in racially segregated cities' minority neighborhoods."

Plunder in the past made plunder in the present efficient. The banks of America understood this. In 2005, Wells Fargo promoted a series of Wealth Building Strategies seminars. Dubbing itself "the nation's leading originator of home loans to ethnic minority customers," the bank enrolled black public figures in an ostensible effort to educate blacks on building "generational wealth." But the "wealth building" seminars were a front for wealth theft. In 2010, the Justice Department filed a discrimination suit against Wells Fargo alleging that the bank had shunted blacks into predatory loans regardless of their creditworthiness. This was not magic or coincidence or misfortune. It was racism reifying itself. According to The New York Times, affidavits found loan officers referring to their black customers as "mud people" and to their subprime products as "ghetto loans."

"We just went right after them," Beth Jacobson, a former Wells Fargo loan officer, told The Times. "Wells Fargo mortgage had an emerging-markets unit that specifically targeted black churches because it figured church leaders had a lot of influence and could convince congregants to take out subprime loans."

In 2011, Bank of America agreed to pay $355 million to settle charges of discrimination against its Countrywide unit. The following year, Wells Fargo settled its discrimination suit for more than $175 million. But the damage had been done. In 2009, half the properties in Baltimore whose owners had been granted loans by Wells Fargo between 2005 and 2008 were vacant; 71 percent of these properties were in predominantly black neighborhoods.
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products of many generations of privilege

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Two hundred fifty years of slavery. Ninety years of Jim Crow. Sixty years of separate but equal. Thirty-five years of racist housing policy. Until we reckon with our compounding moral debts, America will never be whole.

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THIS. A TED Talk by Chimamanda Ngozie Adichie. It is so timely...

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Our lives, our cultures, are composed of many overlapping stories. Novelist Chimamanda Adichie tells the story of how she found her authentic cultural voice -- and warns that if we hear only a single story about another person or country, we risk a critical misunderstanding.

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Web portal created by the National Museum of African-American History

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National Museum of African American History and Culture

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Talking about race, although hard, is necessary. We are here to provide tools and guidance to empower your journey and inspire conversation.

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African American culture is the bedrock of American popular culture

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African American culture is the bedrock of American popular culture

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As a jazz dance artist and educator, I acknowledge that I directly benefit from and am inspired by an art form born of the African American experience.  I also acknowledge that what began as an act of resistance in black music and dance has become commodified and appropriated by mainstream (white) American culture.    I am a guest in jazz as a white person, and so I seek to engage with jazz dance responsibly by honoring the people and culture who are the creative genius behind American popular music and dance.

I have found the following resources transformative:

White Fragility by Robin DiAngelo

How to be an Antiracist by Ibram X. Kendi

Between the World and Me by Ta-nehisi Coates

1619 Project in the New York Times

Dance Studies:

These books are dance specific but appropriate for all who hope to gain a critical understanding of American culture

The Black Dancing Body by Brenda Dixon Gottschild

Black Dance From 1619 to Today by Lynne Fauley Emery

Jazz Dance: A History of the Roots and Branches, eds. Lindsay Guarino and Wendy Oliver (specifically chapters by Takiyah Nur Amin, Moncell Durden, Carlos Jones)

Podcasts:

Speaking of Racism with Tina Strawn and Jen Kinney

On Being with Krista Tippett - see episodes with Imani Perry, Ta-Nehisi Coates, Ruby Sales, John Lewis

Also - listen to jazz, funk, soul, and hip hop.  Watch the dancing and choreography that embodies the duality of the black experience in America - Bill Bojangles Robinson, Josephine Baker, the Nicholas Brothers, Whitey's Lindy Hoppers, Katherine Dunham, Talley Beatty, Alvin Ailey, Pearl Primus and so many others.

Research and watch Childish Gambino's This is America:
https://youtu.be/VYOjWnS4cMY

- Lindsay Guarino, Associate Professor of Dance

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This past semester, a student wrote how they were followed in clothing stores and was carefully taught a set of rules by their mother (keep hoodie down, walk carefully after dark, don’t talk back to police) about how to act in public because they are black. These are facts. This is not just in a society that says it is open and free.

I am the mother of a little boy. I have friends who are mothers and fathers of little boys. We all worry about our children and want them to grow up strong. My black friends live in very real fear for their little boys turning into men, because they will be seen as dangerous and violent and they will be treated with hostility. They will be stopped by the police much more frequently than their white friends and violence will be used against them.  Like my smart, caring student, they will be taught a different set of rules of how to act in public, and the freedom they feel as little boys will turn into something else.

As a professor of Spanish and someone who likes to study other cultures and the world around us, I know is critically important to study our own society. A couple of years ago I read Ta-Nehesi Coates' book Between the World and Me and I found it very powerful.  It is an expression of love between a father to a son and an attempt to explain the inequalities that are found in the world in which we live.
-Emily Colbert Cairns

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Nothing left to say

Nancy Schreiber

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This is a podcast with Brene Brown and Ibram X. Kendi. Really helpful listening.

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Brené Brown: Hi everyone, I'm Brené Brown, and this is Unlocking Us. Today, I'm talking with Professor Ibram Kendi. He's a number one New York Times best-selling author and the Director of the Antiracist Research and Policy Center at American University. He's also an ideas columnist at The Atlantic and a correspondent with CBS News. He is the author of four books, including Stamped from the Beginning: The Definitive History of Racist Ideas in America, which won the National Book Award for Nonfiction. He has another book called, Stamped: Racism, Antiracism, and You, which he co-authored with Jason Reynolds, and it's a remix of the Stamped from the Beginning book that is meant for YA, teen readers - an incredible, incredible book. And he's got a new book coming out called Antiracist Baby, which is a board book that will be published this month in June. Completely evidence that it's never too early to start talking about anti-racism.

BB: He's also the author of How to Be an Antiracist, and that's what we're going to talk about today. We're going to talk about all those books, but we're going to really focus on How to Be an Antiracist, which is a groundbreaking approach to understanding and uprooting racism and inequality in our society and in ourselves. It's an incredible conversation. I welcome you to the table to sit with us, talk, think, feel, ask, question, and lean in really, really far to what we need to learn about ourselves and the world. I want to start this conversation with a quote from Professor Kendi: "By not running from books that pain us, we can allow them to transform us. I ran from antiracist books most of my life, but now I can't stop running after them, scrutinizing myself and my society, and in the process changing both." Let's jump in.

BB: Alright, first let me say that I am incredibly grateful for you joining us on Unlocking Us, thank you for that.

Ibram X. Kendi: Of course, I'm so happy to be on.

BB: I always start these podcasts with not the perfunctory, but the honest, "How are you?" How are you doing right now?

IK: I'm okay. This is quite the time in American history, and as someone who studies anti-Black racism, I'm simultaneously enraged to see the deathly effects of that racism, but simultaneously energized to see all of the people resisting that racism.

BB: How are you holding up with the COVID-19 pandemic on top of all of this, as the underscore to all of this?

IK: I think that that has been difficult for me, partly because my colleagues and I, we partnered with the COVID Tracking Project to build this COVID racial data tracker. And so we're... It's like the premier tracker of racial data on COVID. And so I'm seeing the data coming in and the disparities all over the country, and so that's been difficult. And then simultaneously, my wife, Sadiqa, her family is... Her hometown is Albany, Georgia, and Albany, Georgia and that general area of Southwest Georgia has one of the worst outbreaks in the country. And simultaneously, it's a trauma desert, it doesn't have a tremendous amount of high-quality healthcare, in contrast to New York City, which also of course has been a major outbreak. And so, seeing and hearing those stories firsthand of people suffering, obviously, it's been difficult. And this is a primarily Black area.

BB: I want to get into... I want to talk a lot about How to Be an Antiracist, your book that I think is life changing. I want to talk about your new book that's coming out in a couple of weeks. Tell us the title of that new book.

IK: Antiracist Baby. It's a board book.

BB: I can't wait. I want to start because when we talk about the pandemic, when we talk about what's happening right now in the world with a rebellion, the protest, you wrote an article that went up on The Atlantic this morning.

IK: Yes.

BB: It's called "The American Nightmare: To be Black and Conscious of Anti-Black Racism is to Stare Into The Mirror of Your Own Extinction." I want to... Can I read a piece of this to you and ask you about it?

IK: Sure, yeah.

BB: Would you rather read it or would you... Can I read it to you?

IK: Yeah, you can read it. That's fine, yeah.

BB: Okay. You're using as an epigraph, a quote from Malcom X from 1964, "We don't see any American dream. We've experienced only the American nightmare." And then you write, "A nightmare is essentially a horror story of danger, but it is not wholly a horror story. Black people experience joy, love, peace, safety. But as in any horror story, those unforgettable moments of toil, terror, and trauma have made danger essential to the Black experience in racist America. What one Black American experiences, many Black Americans experience. Black Americans are constantly stepping into the toil and terror and trauma of other Black Americans. Black Americans are constantly stepping into the souls of the dead because they know that could have been them, they are them. Because they know it is dangerous to be Black in America because racist Americans see Blacks as dangerous. To be Black and conscious of anti-Black racism is to stare into the mirror of your own extinction."

BB: This is not just about the police brutality; this is not just about Breonna Taylor and Ahmaud Arbery and George Floyd; this is about the tens of thousands of Black victims of Covid.

IK: Yeah.

BB: Talk to me about this article. What do we need to understand?

IK: Well, I think first and foremost, the article revolves around a very, very prominent book that was written in 1896 by Frederick Hoffman, who, basically it was a book of statistical tables and racial data that showed not only racial disparities in crime rates, but also racial disparities in infection rates and racial disparities in mortality, or I should say death rates, and so he took this massive amount of racial data to proclaim that Black people were not subjected to racist policies. That wasn't the cause of Black disease, of Black death, and even Black people being disproportionately arrested and incarcerated. He made the case that this data shows that Black people are headed towards gradual extinction, and it's their fault. They are by nature or behavior, a dangerous, diseased, dying people, and to recognize anything else is to not recognize the facts. And so this idea, normalizing Black pain and suffering and death has only continued to this day, and so essentially when you normalize, when you just believe that Black people should be disproportionally dying of police violence or even COVID-19, you're thereby not going to challenge, let alone look for the policies that are actually behind this disproportionate Black death.

IK: And so then those who are experiencing those policies that are then leading to that trauma and terror, and even toil, they're going to be experiencing the American nightmare. And the reason why I use the term the American nightmare is because Black people are constantly told that America is this land of equal opportunity, that police officers protect and serve, that we too have access to the American dream. And obviously, based on the experiences of Black people, we've really, as Malcolm said, 50 years ago, experienced the American nightmare.

BB: When you talk about the Hoffman book, it's such a devastating reminder to me, because I see this a lot right now of how statistics, academics, science can be dehumanizing tools as much as kind of the language that we use.

IK: Yeah, without question. And let me give an example. So when we first were able to start getting states in early April to release racial data, and then we saw these racial disparities. We saw that Black people were disproportionately being infected and even dying, of COVID. The first response of people to that data, of many people to that data, was to say Black people are not taking the virus seriously, Black people are not socially distancing, there's something wrong with Black people, and then we were able to disprove that. Basically survey data in mid-March had already proven that actually Black people were taking the virus more seriously than white people. So then it's zeroed in to, well, it must be the result of Black pre-existing conditions.

IK: And then those pre-existing conditions are caused by Black people making disproportionately bad or unhealthy behaviors. So it just always, essentially, you take these racial disparities, and we've been arguing over their existence, even before Frederick Hoffman. Is it because there's something wrong with Black people, or is there racist policy? And those who believe we live in a nation that's post-racial, that there's equal opportunity, they're not going to ever see the racist policies that are even in many cases, hard to see, instead they're just going to blame Black people.

BB: It's almost, and I don't think it's almost, it is the confirmation bias of racist beliefs.

IK: It is, yeah, it is. And that's what's striking about Frederick Hoffman, because he opens his book arguing that, "I am free of bias. I am free of prejudice or sentimentally."

BB: Which should be our first flag, right?

[chuckle]

IK: Exactly, right. And then, ends the book stating that the gradual extinction of Black people is only a matter of time, and it's based on the data. And to give another example, you have many people arguing that police violence, disproportionate police violence is the result of Black people being disproportionately violent, and Black people are disproportionately violent, they say, because, well, just look at the violent crime data. There's this widespread belief that Black neighborhoods are more dangerous because of violent crime data, the same violent crime data that Frederick Hoffman in this book in 1896 really popularized. But what Americans don't realize, and this is what I've been trying to get people to see, is that there's no relationship between the violent crime in those neighborhoods and the Blackness of the people.

IK: In other words, people believe that the reason why those neighborhoods are violent is because there are Black people there, and that's why when they see Black neighborhoods, they assume that those neighborhoods are violent because the Black people and their culture and their behavior and even their genetics are predisposed to violence. But if that was the case, then all Black neighborhoods would have the same levels of violent crime. In other words, higher income...

BB: Because that would be the... Yeah, that would be the consistent variable.

IK: Precisely. And so, higher income Black neighborhoods would have the same levels of violent crime as extremely impoverished Black neighborhoods. That is not the case. And it's not the case in white America, it's not the case in Asian America, Native America, Latinx America. In every America, if we want to split up America racially, you have higher levels of poverty, long-term unemployment, you're going to have higher levels of violent crime, whether you're talking about a white community or neighborhood with higher levels of violent crime or Latinx or Black. So we know statistically that actually what is the consistent variable is poverty and unemployment. But people still want to call these dangerous Black neighborhoods as opposed to dangerous unemployed neighborhoods.

BB: One of the things that I find so powerful about your work, there are many things, but one of the things I find so powerful is your ability to unpack things, lay them out, and the steps always lead back to policy. It always leads back to systemic policy.

IK: And I think that's one of the things I'm trying to get people to realize, and especially, I think one of the things that happens with our discussions on race is we personalize groups, meaning we make groups into individuals, and, even though every group is made up of individuals, we say, "Oh well, this group is disproportionately obese, so therefore, why can't this group "diet or exercise more" in the way I used to do when I weighed a little bit more. But that's actually... We can't think of groups as individuals, when we think of... Especially we can't think of disparities as the result of the personal choices of the individuals in groups, because I think that's what happens, that's how we have been misled into believing, but when we actually... All of the data points to and all of the analysis points to, is that when you have two groups, there's going to be all different types of behaviors in both groups, whether that...

BB: Complete variance, right?

IK: Precisely. So you take white people and Black people, you have white people who eat unhealthy, you have white people who are vegans, you have Black people who eat in an unhealthy manner, and then you have Black people like me who are vegans. And so... And then you have vegans who are white, who don't really eat vegetables. Right? And so it's so much variable, and so we emphasize the negativities that we see among those individuals who are Black, and then ignore the negativities among the individuals who are white. And so we say, "Oh, those Black folk and their soul food, that's why they're unhealthy," as if you don't have white people who gathered this weekend and had hamburgers and hot dogs only on their barbeque menu. So I think that it's critically important for us when we think of groups and group inequality, to recognize that what changes communities, what changes groups, it's not their individual behaviors, it's policy change.

BB: I want to slow down here and go into slow motion for a moment, because, what you're saying is so profoundly important at the crux of, I think, of your entire book. And for me as a researcher, it's... We take groups and we take stereotypes and characteristics of groups, and what it seems to me that we do, and I think you write about this, but I want to check in with you to make sure I'm understanding it correctly because this is what I see. We see the most kind of negative, socially agreed upon, not good characteristics of groups of color, and we assign it to the entire group. Then we take the best characteristics of one or two people in the white folk group and assign it to that entire group. That's true, right? You see that...

IK: Exactly. So that's what I talk about how we generalize the individual negativities of people of color while we individualize the individual negativities of white people.

BB: And you know what keeps coming back to me, and I'm going to date myself with this because this was a huge raging issue as I was in school and then graduate work: the bell curve is such an example of the manipulation of statistical data to confirm a racist hypothesis. Okay. Yeah, I just... You know what? We do that. We do that. I can think of times when I do that, maybe not about race, but I do do that with... I'll tell you where I do it. I do it with political identity. I take the best part of the people I see in my group and assign it to everyone in my group. And the worst part, and it's so self-protective and self-destructive at the same time, isn't it?

IK: It is. It is. And I know How to Be an Antiracist, in particular, I remember giving a talk about this book, I believe I was in Gainesville, Florida, and this woman who was obviously a Republican or a conservative, got up during the Q&A and basically challenged me, basically by saying, "You're just another liberal who is just criticizing conservatives completely and never being able to look back on the problems of things that liberals do." And I was like, "Did you read the book?" [laughter] Because obviously, you didn't read the book, because the book was just as critical of people who identify as liberals or Democrats as people who identify as conservatives and Republicans.

BB: I want to read something from the book, early-on pages. Is it weird when I read to you? Is it okay?

IK: It's fine, yeah.

BB: Okay. "The good news is that racist and antiracist are not fixed identities. We can be a racist one minute and be an antiracist the next. What we say about race, what we do about race in each moment determines what, not who, we are." And you write, "I used to be racist most of the time. I am changing. I am no longer identifying with racists by claiming to be not racist. I am no longer speaking through the mask of racial neutrality. I am no longer manipulated by racist ideas to see racial groups as problems. I no longer believe a Black person cannot be racist, I am no longer policing my every action around an imagined white or Black judge trying to convince white people of my equal humanity, trying to convince Black people, I am representing the race well." This book is incredibly vulnerable in terms of you sharing your own experiences. Why was that important to you as you were writing this?

IK: So, I remember when I was thinking about this book and I was sort of thinking about the pulse of the book, even the heartbeat of the book. I recognize that the heartbeat, historically, of racism has been denial, has been to deny that one's ideas are racist, one's policies are racist, and certainly that one's self and one's nation is racist, and so then I was like, "Okay, by contrast, the heartbeat of antiracism is confession, is admission, is acknowledgement, is the willingness to be vulnerable, is the willingness to identify the times in which we are being racist, is to be willing to diagnose ourselves and our country, and our ideas, and our policies." And the reason why that's the heartbeat is because, like with anything else, the first step is acknowledging the problem. We can't even begin the process of changing ourselves, of acting in an antiracist fashion, if we're not even willing to admit the times in which we're being racist. And so I realize that essentially to be antiracist is to admit when we're being racist. And so I realize that in order to really give voice to that, in order to really model that for people I had to do that to myself and for myself.

BB: And you do it, and you do it throughout the book and you move forward a bunch and you slide back, and you share that with us. To me, that is the heart of the book, that there is such a deep humanity in this book. Was that intentional on your part? Did you write it from a perspective of, "This is what it means to be in the human struggle?"

IK: I think so. And I mean, I think that, to be honest, the first few chapters were a huge struggle for me to write, precisely because of how vulnerable I had to be and how many... I had to basically admit and chronicle some of the most shameful moments of my life, especially as someone who was raised in a home to value and love Black people, to be able to have to write about those times in which I did not value or love Black people, let alone other groups, was very, very difficult. And so it really wasn't... And so I think I struggled and it actually... I think the first few chapters, it took me almost like a year to write, and it really wasn't until as I write about in the end of the book that I was diagnosed with cancer, that I just wondered whether indeed I would even live to see the book come out, and I think because of that, in a way freed me to be vulnerable and to be completely sort of open and naked in writing the book.

BB: Yeah, there's just courage on every page. I mean, really, and I have to say you don't see that very often in books. You don't see that very often in the world, so thank you for that. I think the central message is that the opposite of racist isn't not racist, The true opposite of racist is antiracist. Can you break that down for us and help us understand how the opposite of racist is not, not race... Not racist is not the opposite of racist.

IK: Sure, so I think... Let me say it in this way. So when you think of... So I define a racist as someone who is expressing racist ideas or supporting racist policies with their action or inaction, I know we're not supposed to use terms in the definition, but I think what's critical about understanding what it means to be racist is understanding what a racist idea is, and what a racist policy is. And once you understand what a racist idea and racist policy is, you begin to realize that there's a fundamental contrast to that, and that contrast is not some sort of neutrality. And so if a racist idea is any idea that suggests a racial group is superior or inferior to another racial group... In other words, a racist idea connotes racial hierarchy, then what's the opposite of that? The opposite of that is ideas that connote racial equality, that challenges directly that idea of racial hierarchy and says, "No. All the racial groups are equals."

IK: And there's no in between racial hierarchy and racial equality. Either all the racial groups are equals, or certain racial groups are better or worse than others. And so there's no not racist idea, there's only a racist idea and an antiracist idea. And the same thing with policy. If a racist policy is leading to racial inequity, then an antiracist policy is leading to racial equity. There's no in between inequity or equity, and if racist policies lead to injustice, then by contrast, antiracist policies lead to justice. There's no in between injustice or justice. And so then when you take a person, you have people who are either expressing racist or antiracist ideas. So in any given moment, they're either being racist or antiracist, there's no not racist sort of category.

IK: And then I should also add very quickly that when people typically say, "I am not racist," it is in response to someone challenging something that they just did or said that indeed probably was racist. So again, I mentioned how the heartbeat, or in order to be antiracist, we have to be willing to admit the times in which we're being racist. By contrast, in order to be racist, we never admit the times in which we're being racist, and instead we say we're not racist.

BB: I have a couple of questions. So what do you say to the person who when you say we're either racist or antiracist to the person who says, "That's a false dichotomy. There can be neutrality between antiracist and race, there can be neutrality between injust and just, between inequality and equity or equality." I can't find what that neutrality is. But I would really love to know how you answer that because I get that a lot, especially when I quote you, but I can't think of a single example, because the systems are already in place. So if we were at net zero, how does that... I mean, it may be so but we're not, so what do you answer?

IK: Yeah so I state that are you... I would... So people have asked me asked that, and typically what I state say is, "Are you stating that because from a defensive posture?" In other words, you don't want to identify as racist, and you view those antiracists in some way that you don't want to sort of identify with. So this is fundamentally defensive so you can create a category for yourself. And typically, we know when people are creating categories for themselves because you can't define your category. And so are you creating this category for us, or are you creating this category for yourself? And if you're creating it for us, then define it for us, so we can understand it.

IK: What does it mean to be not racist? I know what it means to be racist. I know what it means to be antiracist. What does it mean to be not racist? And if you can't provide a very clear and consistent definition, then that shows me that you're fundamentally being defensive, and you're fundamentally seeking to create a category for yourself.

BB: That is so powerful, and starting with the defensive posturing that I think there are people that don't want to be in the racist category of course, because there's so much shame attached to that.

IK: Yeah.

BB: And they don't want to be in the antiracist category because there's so much frickin work attached to that.

IK: Yes.

BB: Do you know what I mean?

IK: Yes.

BB: Like antiracism work is, no joke, exhausting and vigilant, and there's shame in it too because it's... So it's interesting because - can we dig into something that is kind of at the intersection of your work and my work to help me figure out something?

IK: Sure.

BB: You don't seem to be... And I've only read this book and a couple of articles that you've written or maybe three or four articles from The Atlantic, but I will be getting the baby board book for sure. And it'll become my new go-to, like, I'm looking at Barrett, who's in here with me. She's like, "This will be the new. Every baby we know will be getting this book." You don't seem to be a proponent of shame as a social justice tool.

IK: No.

BB: So, let me ask you this question because I think this goes to the creating categories out of defensiveness. One of the things that I've seen and I see it a lot, I see it a lot in my social feeds, I see it a lot when I have really difficult Q&As when I'm on book tours. Let's say you and I are talking, and I share a racist idea, or I make a racist statement, and you hold me accountable for that. Right? Which is fair. You question and we dig in. But you say... I am going to feel shame about that, for most, I think most, maybe not all, but most white, I hope, most white Americans, or maybe Americans in general will feel shame about being held accountable for racist thinking or thoughts or speaking, then I go into shame. But what I'm struggling helping people understand and maybe you can share your thoughts on it with us is being held accountable for racism and experiencing shame around that, is not the same as being shamed about racism.

IK: Mm-hmm, yeah.

BB: Does that makes sense to you at all? Or am I off? I don't know.

IK: No, I think it makes sense. And I think that... Well, two things I'm trying to think of what to say first because I feel like I'll forget the other. Do you ever feel that way?

BB: All the time.

IK: So I think one thing is that... So if we talk about racist ideas, to grow up in America is to grow up, and for racist ideas to constantly be rained on your head and you have no umbrella. And you don't even know that you're wet with those racist ideas, because the racist ideas themselves cause you to imagine that you're dry.

BB: Right.

IK: And then someone comes along and says, "You know what, you're wet, and these ideas are still raining on your head. Here's an umbrella." You can be like, "Thank you, I didn't even realize I was drenched."

BB: Yeah, yeah.

IK: And then with all these ideas, and then the question, this is why I don't think people should feel ashamed, is there were other people and very powerful people in a history that was constantly raining those ideas on your head, and so what that means is, for instance if you're a white American, who has racist ideas, and then you, let's say, perpetuated those ideas by, let's say, not hiring a Black person because you thought they were lazy. You were simultaneously a victim and a victimizer. And so I think it's critical for people to recognize that literally, and as I talk about in How to Be an Antiracist, there's a specific reason why you had so many powerful Americans trying to convince white Americans that Black people were inferior; it was out of their own self interest.

BB: Yeah.

IK: And so then, white Americans and other Americans were tricked into believing that Black people should be enslaved in 1855, and then meanwhile poor whites, whose poverty was directly the result of the riches of white slaveholders were like, "Yeah, it should be this way." And so then those people were able to get richer and richer, and so me coming to that poor white person who believes Black people should be enslaved and then who have even sort of worked on slave patrols and brutalized Black people trying to run away, I'm basically coming to them and saying, "Here is the way you were a victimizer and here is the way you were a victim." And it's critically important, I think, for people to understand, people have been tricked, they've been manipulated, they've been hoodwinked, and that's why I think, that's what I'd want people to realize.

BB: Yeah, thank you for the umbrella. I didn't know I was wet. I think that might be where we lose people.

IK: Yeah.

BB: Wow. Do you ever... I think about this, I think my background is in social work, so I have my master's in social work and PhD in social work, and my bachelor's too, and so I've probably taken 20 classes on the nature of oppression. I guess the thing that always strikes me about oppression as a construct, and I know I'm going to personify it, and I know this is probably not right, but I would love your thoughts on it because I've tried to figure it out for so many years is, God, it's so hard to fight because it has an answer for everything, like it is...

IK: Yeah, yeah.

BB: Do you know what I mean?

IK: Mm-hmm.

BB: Like, it's such a formidable foe. It's like every time, like when you said to me, I got goosebumps when you said, "It's raining on you. But part of what it's raining on you is the message that you're dry."

IK: Mm-hmm.

BB: It is such a formidable foe, isn't it?

IK: It is, and that I think that it's critically important. What I'm trying to do is bring people back into reality, right? So they can realize that it's being rained on them, that that rain is coming down on their head, that they're slipping and falling and harming people in ways that they don't even realize. And when you step that back into reality, then you can actually recognize what's actually happening to you and what you're doing to other people. And then you can also begin to see how and why you have people protesting all over this country and why people are enraged and why that resistance is going to continue. Literally racist ideas, literally separate people from reality, and it prevents people, even too, from helping themselves.

IK: And so I talked a lot in my book about the ways in which even you have Black elites who believe ideas about the Black poor and who sort of reproduce racist ideas about the Black poor, not realizing that racist policies against them are being justified through ideas about the Black poor, or you have white Americans who are believing in racist ideas that these people of color will just use and abuse and take advantage of so-called social entitlement programs like Medicare for All, or increasing Social Security funding, or basic income, or other... Or paid leave, things that other countries have. And so therefore, I don't want none of that. And then it results in them not having the social safety net when they fall, their friends not having it, their family not having it, and then when they fall and become hurt, then they're told it's immigrants' fault. And so it's this constant sort of people being hurt...

BB: God.

IK: And then they believing that it's these other people who are the source of their pain, as opposed to the people who they actually support, who are the source of their pain.

BB: I'm a terrible podcast host, because I'm sitting here with my hands over my mouth, and that's not... I can't do that, but that's my response to this. I read an article, I think it was during the 2016 election, all I can remember is an MD-PhD, public health person, and I think the name of the article is: "Racism is Killing White People." And it's because they were voting against the very things, the services, and the safety nets that they themselves will need just because of the racist rhetoric that they attached to it.

IK: Exactly.

BB: It's...

IK: Yeah, Jonathan Metzl and that's based on his book Dying of Whiteness. And he talked about...

BB: Is that the who that... Is he an MD? Is that the one I'm talking about?

IK: MD-PhD, yes, yeah.

BB: My husband's a pediatrician, I think I read it in, there was an excerpt of something in American Pediatrics or something. So tell us who that was and what that book was, and we'll put it on our show notes.

IK: So yeah, it's Jonathan Metzl, who's a MD-PhD, I believe at Vanderbilt, and his book was entitled Dying of Whiteness, and he looks at the white resistance to the extension of ObamaCare or even the extension of Medicaid in particular states and how that not only harmed, obviously people of color disproportionately, but even white people, and how the resistance to creating more insurance and affordable healthcare has harmed white people, let alone people of color, or even probably the most striking aspect of that book was so he not only looked at healthcare, but even the massive debate currently over gun control.

BB: Gun control.

IK: And gun safety and gun rights, and how first and foremost, you've had white men who have been advocating for the reduction or elimination of gun safety laws so that they can arm themselves, so that they can protect their families against Muslim terrorists and Black criminals and LatinX invaders as they call them. And what's fascinating is those very states where they've been able to successfully eliminate these gun safety policies, it's led to a massive surge in people being killed, white men being killed by hand gun via suicide, so the very people, white men who've been pushing for the reduction in gun safety laws have then led to them, given them greater ability to accumulate guns, and they've used those guns to kill themselves, so literally, people are dying of whiteness.

BB: Can I just ask you just like a no bullshit question here?

IK: Mm-hmm.

BB: Why does that make so much sense to some of us and no sense, it seems, to other people? Why do some of us see the through line and some of us don't see the through line? Do you understand what I'm asking? It's a weird question.

IK: Yeah, yeah. I think first and foremost, because we're living in different sort of realities, and so, for many of these white men who are advocating, who are proud card-carrying members of the NRA, who are advocating for the accumulation of weapons by white men, they believe... I should say they've been made to believe that the cause of their own personal pain, the reasons why they're struggling in society or they do don't have more than they already have, is because of these immigrants and these people of color. They also generalize, when there's a Black person who commits murder, or a LatinX immigrant or a terrorist who commits murder, in their mind, those are the central sort of problems that are harming America and are threatening them. And so they're in tremendous amounts of fear, because they're constantly told by their politicians, by the people they listen to, that these are the people you should fear, and then they're told, "Your rights are being taken away. White men are being chastised and criticized, and demeaned by women, by people of color, by everybody, and so we are your defenders and you need to defend yourself through these weapons."

IK: And, but then what's happening is they're actually getting these weapons and killing themselves, and then all of those individual suicides are individualized, so there's not this collective national outcry about the incredible level of white men who are committing suicide, because, again, if something bad happens to white people, it's individualized.

BB: I've just been thinking a lot about your book around the How to Be an Antiracist book, and I've been thinking about how there is a very short distance in my mind between the dehumanizing dog whistle language from this administration to calling the cops on a bird watcher, to George Floyd. And it's my training, again, I think in social work systems theory, that these things lie on a continuum, but that that walk is very short between these things. Do you agree with that or disagree with that?

IK: Oh yeah, I agree. I mean, I actually tweeted out last week after we heard about what happened to George Floyd, that we should be seeing that, I think I said something to the... Well, let me just say the idea, and that is, when it comes to police violence, oftentimes the beginning of police violence is someone, and in this case, a white woman calling the police saying, "A Black male is threatening my life. I need your help, come help me," when indeed she is actually the person who's threatening the other person, but anyway, she calls up the police, and then the police come, imagining that there's this so-called Black super predator who's preying on this innocent white woman, and that it is their job principally to protect them, and so, then they come imagining the need for force. And then Christian Cooper ends up as George Floyd in Minneapolis.

BB: In a split second.

IK: In which an unarmed person is now dead. And so, there's a very straight line from Central Park to Minneapolis, and we understand because that was essentially the lynching era, but that lynching era has continued.

BB: And I think I would back the line up, because I think for me, a big part of my studies was dehumanization and the process, and the very invisible process of dehumanizing, which every genocide in recorded history starts with dehumanizing and starts with language. So when we hear things like, when we talk about immigrants and the White House uses words like infestation, and when we use words like... I don't even think I've ever heard white people referred to as thugs in my life. It's people have a very hard time understanding that once we move people outside of what we believe is humanity, that it's possible to do anything to them.

IK: It is. And I think that is the reason why when you have those racist ideas that cause you to demonize people of color, and then that is combined with racist policies that are over-policing their neighborhoods, or allowing police officers who kill them to not be prosecuted, or to get off, it only continues this cycle that not only do they not matter to me, they don't even matter to the state.

BB: Right. You wrote something, I think this was a quote from the New York Times, and I feel like I could talk to you for... I hope you come back again, and we can talk more about all the great policy change that's happening. That's what I'm hoping.

IK: That's what I'm hoping, too.

BB: But I want to read this quote because and it says, "By not running from the books that pain us, we can allow them to transform us." This is a quote from you. "I ran from antiracist books most of my life. But now I can't stop running after them, scrutinizing myself and my society, and in the process changing both."

IK: That's what we need to be doing. I think many of us have learned, even from your work, we have to be constantly growing. We cannot harden ourselves, and certainly our children into, "They're stupid or we're stupid." We have to say, "You know what, that was not a smart thing that I did or said. That was a racist act. But I am not essentially a racist." No one is. Everyone has the capacity to change, everyone has the capacity to be antiracist. Everyone has the capacity to grow. And if we're not growing as human beings, then what are we? What's distinguishing humans from other beings? It's that capacity for self-awareness and growth.

BB: That's right, meaning making. I always go back to that quote from Shawshank Redemption, "Get busy living or get busy dying." And I think if you're not learning and growing, which can be painful, stretch marks, bruises, you're dying in a way. Okay, Ibram, walk me through, because I really want to get one of your books for my soon to be 15-year-old son, and so tell me about the sequence of Stamped from the Beginning. Is there a YA version?

IK: Yes.

BB: So how does it work?

IK: So when I wrote Stamped from the Beginning, which again, chronicled this history of racist ideas, literally from their origins to the present, so upwards of 600 years of history, people would come up to me and say, "You know what, I wish I would have learned this in middle school, in high school. I didn't understand and know this history." And so, people kept telling me that, "You know what, this book needs to be before every middle schooler and high schooler." And so we decided that, "Let's create one." And Stamped from the Beginning is upwards of 500 pages, and so we decided we needed a specific book. And so I asked Jason Reynolds, who's, he's probably one of the more gifted YA novelists, who historically has written on race and racism, and he has his own voice and his own style. And I asked him a couple of times, he said no a couple of times, but eventually he agreed, and so he took Stamped from the Beginning, and completely rewrote it for young people in their voice, in his patented lyricism. And yeah, they've fallen in love with it. It actually debuted number one New York Times, so yeah, people are really responding to it well.

BB: You know what I love, is it's never too early to talk to our kids about this. And now you've given us the gifts of a board book, a YA book, and then books for adults.

IK: And that's, I want, especially in this moment, when there are a lot of people who want tools for not only understanding racism themselves, but even teaching and instructing their kids, and I'm hoping also that people realize that they should be having these discussions with their children. Their children are not color blind. The data shows that children as early as six months recognize race, and children as early as two to three years old have begun to consume racist ideas. And if you're not teaching those children antiracist ideas, if you're not challenging those racist ideas, and they're only going to grow up and then one day say something, you're going to feel completely embarrassed. Because like with anything else, people have to be taught to be antiracist, just as they're taught, indirectly, by so many things they see and experience and hear, to be racist.

BB: And I think it's been also my experience that, when you don't... The biggest mistake a lot of people I see making, is we don't talk about race, but we've raised nice and kind kids, so we assume that that's going to translate to something, and it translates to nothing, except the messaging that it's scary and not okay to talk about race.

IK: Exactly. Yeah, if the modeling... Can you imagine, there are adults, and many adults who struggle to talk about race and racism, and... But could you imagine if those adults were talking about these issues as early as 2 or 3, or 1, or as soon as you can speak, then... And I think, part of this also, is, as I'm learning on thinking through how to parent my child, of course, we've learned from you, and one of the things we're trying to model for her, is how to have difficult, uncomfortable conversations and how necessary those conversations are for her having a healthy, happy, and productive and impactful sort of life. And so this talking about race and racism is one type of difficult conversation we need to teach her how to have.

BB: Yeah, and, God, I just don't think there's a bigger gift that we... On top of knowing that you're loved and worthy of love and belonging, I don't know if there's a greater gift that we can give our kids, than the ability to lean into difficult conversation and to be vulnerable. Yeah. Okay, I have this last 10 rapid fire, and it's really important, it's more lighthearted, but it's about getting to know you as a person, and I think, sometimes, one of the hardest things about being an activist is not being seen as a person and can be sometimes dehumanizing in its own way. So if you would allow me, I'd love to ask you these 10 questions.

IK: Sure. Yeah. Let's do it.

BB: Okay, ready? Number one's fill in the blank. Vulnerability is?

IK: Courageous.

BB: Number two, you're called to do something brave, but your fear is real and it's stuck right in your throat. What's the first thing you do?

IK: Think about what the right thing to do is, and focus on that, rather than my fear.

BB: What is something that people often get wrong about you?

IK: That I'm very, very serious and angry all the time.

[chuckle]

BB: Okay. What's the last show that you binged and loved?

IK: That we binged, let's see. Probably... Oh, God, what's the show that was the... Probably the lead show on HBO, that just ended. I'm forgetting the name of it.

BB: Game of Thrones?

IK: Game of Thrones, yes.

BB: Okay, got it.

IK: Game of Thrones. So, literally... So, my wife and I, we hadn't seen it at all, any of the episodes, and we just binge-watched it late last year, and we both really liked it, except the ending, of course, but...

BB: Now, that's a binge, that's a hella binge right there, if you watched it all. Okay, a film that you really love?

IK: So I think, one of the films that I really love, particularly in context to our conversation, is After Earth, which was a movie with Will Smith and his son, in which they are sort of lost on this mysterious sort of planet, and he's hurt, and they have to figure out a way to elude people, or I should say beings and beasts that are trying to kill them. And Will is seeking to really get his son, and speak through his son, to get his son to essentially get them both to safety because he's hurt. And I remember at one point, he's trying to encourage him to face this dangerous, or horrible sort of villain beast that sort of makes up the movie, and he says something to the effect that, "Fear is not real. Danger is real, but fear is a choice," and he obviously wanted him to make a different choice.

BB: God, what a quote.

IK: Yeah.

BB: Okay, a concert that you'll never forget.

IK: Probably... So I... One of my favorite groups in the '90s, when I was growing up, was Jagged Edge, this R&B group, and so I was able to not only see them in concert, but even meet them when I was a freshman... Oh, not a freshman, when I was at FAMU, where I did my undergrad in Tallahassee, Florida.

BB: Favorite meal.

IK: So I'd say my favorite food now is probably avocado, and it's fascinating because I only really started eating avocado probably in the last five years, and one day... And I'm the type of person, if it doesn't look good to me, then I'm not going to want to eat it, and so, since it was green, I'm like, how could... It just looks weird. But then one day I tried it, and I haven't looked back since.

BB: The rest is history, avocado history. Okay, what's on your nightstand right now?

IK: Where... Oh.

BB: He's literally looking at it.

IK: Yeah. What the Eyes Don't See.

BB: Okay.

IK: Which is "A Story of Crisis, Resistance and Hope in an American city," by Mona Hanna-Attisha, which essentially is the story of the Flint water crisis, and how this pediatrician was very critical in not only sort of breaking the problem or demonstrating the problem, but even seeking to lead its recovery.

BB: Okay, a snapshot of an ordinary moment in your life that brings you real joy.

IK: Ordinary moment, is my 4-year-old daughter, I'm home after being somewhere, and she just jumps into a massive sprint, she comes and say hello and hugs me around my legs. That always brings me joy.

BB: Yeah. Last one. What's one thing that you're deeply grateful for right now?

IK: I think I'm deeply grateful for being surrounded by people, who sort of practice love with me, and who show their love as I seek to show my love to them, and so people... I believe people choose to love, and I'm sort of deeply grateful that people have chosen to love me.

BB: Well, your work is life-affirming and life-changing. Professor Ibram Kendi, How to Be an Antiracist. We just have a couple of short weeks to wait for Antiracist Baby, the board book, to come out. I'll make sure that we profile that on all of our channels, and we'll put it up on brenebrown.com. I think danger is real, to go back to your quote, I haven't seen that movie, but that quote's amazing. "Danger is real, but fear is a choice," and I am grateful for you for choosing courage. Thank you for making us braver.

IK: Well, thank you, and of course thank you for all your work, and glad we had a chance to sit down and talk about this.

BB: Me too, thank you.

(music)

Again, I want to thank Ibram Kendi for joining us on Unlocking Us. I'm committed to having him back on the program, if he'll join us, to talk even more, about antiracism and everything he has to teach us. If you want to follow Dr. Kendi, on Twitter, he's Dr. Ibram, @-D-R-I-B-R-A-M, Instagram, @-I-B-R-A-M-X-K. You can also go to our show page, on brenebrown.com, and you'll see all of his books, links to all of his books, and how to find him on social media, his website, and learn more about the work he does. I always sign these podcasts, I sign off on these podcasts by saying, "Stay awkward, brave and kind," and I would add to this one, in addition to awkward, brave and kind, I know we have to make choices, we have to use our voice in service, and for me, that rarely means giving voice to the voiceless, I think the voiceless have voices, and they've been screaming, for centuries. I think our work is to show up, be brave, give ears to the earless, and that's not easy, but right isn't easy, very often. Take good care of yourselves.

© 2020 Brené Brown Education and Research Group, LLC. All rights reserved.

Brown, B. (Host). (2020, June 3). Brené with Ibram X. Kendi on How to Be an Antiracist. [Audio podcast episode]. In Unlocking Us with Brené Brown. Cadence13. https://brenebrown.com/podcast/brene-with-ibram-x-kendi-on-how-to-be-an-antiracist/

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Brené with Ibram X. Kendi on How to Be an Antiracist

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Ibram X. Kendi and I talk about racial disparities, policy, and equality, but we really focus on How to Be an Antiracist, Kendi's groundbreaking approach to understanding uprooting racism and inequality in our society and in ourselves.

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Book Recommendation by Meghan DeCarvalho, LICSW, Director of Counseling Services

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Book Recommendation by Meghan DeCarvalho, LICSW, Director of Counseling Services

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Racism in the United States by Ann Marie Garran and Joshua Miller is an excellent book.  This book packs a lot in its brief narrative.  As a white woman steeped heavy in white privilege, this book gave me basic building blocks and language on privilege, systemic racism, and oppressed identities that was lacking in my education through college.

This book taught me that all white people are racist because we benefit from a system of power and that people of color cannot be racist because they do not benefit from this system.

When I think about reading and particularly discussing this book, it was difficult.  It’s difficult to name that which white people have been taught to believe but not say out loud.  It’s hard stripping away your privilege and recognizing that where you are is likely more a product of external factors than individual efforts and it’s normal to go through much guilt in awakening (and guilt that your awakening begins at whatever age).  This book helped me contextualize the lived experience in the United States as a person of color now and throughout history and to see institutional racism and interpersonal racism in all its forms. I guess in many ways this book expanded my heart in compassion and felt like something important that I can never unsee or unknow.

I like this quote by Scott Woods “racism is a thing you have to keep scooping out of the boat of your life to keep from drowning in it.”  The work is endless because, well frankly, our country was built on a system of racism and dismantling systems takes a lot of time and education.
I believe in the power of book clubs and discussions.  I am grateful for our Inclusive Reading Club on campus (run by Rose and Gretchen as one place where our community can dive deeper into conversations about diversity).  We plan to read Me and White Supremacy by Layla Saad and have continued discussion with interested white Salve community members early in fall 2020.  Please join us.

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Racism in the United States, Second Edition

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This comprehensive text thoroughly reviews the theories and history of racism, the sociology of and the psychology of racism, intergroup relations and intergroup conflict, and how racism is manifested institutionally, between groups, and between people

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It was three years after I received a PhD in theological ethics that I realized I went through the entire well-regarded program and never learned anything about race or racism.  Unfortunately, I think many white people have had a similarly limited formal education, including the majority of Salve students.  While there are many films, books and articles that are helpful for white people, one author I highly recommend is Bryan Massignale, an African-American Catholic priest who has written a number of very accessible articles with white people in mind.  Here are a few: "When Profiling is 'Reasonable,' Injustice Becomes Excusable" (2013, after George Zimmerman was found innocent of killing Trayvon Martin); "Let's Be a Church Where Black Lives Matter" (2016, on police practices and Christian responses); "What Will It Take to Redeem the Soul of America?" (2018, in response to separating families at the Mexico border); "The Assumptions of White Privilege and What We Can Do About It" (June, 2020).  All four articles could  be read within 30 minutes and I recommend looking at them in chronological order.
--Tony LoPresti

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"I've been getting a lot of questions from my non-Black friends about how to be a better ally to Black people. I suggest unlearning and relearning through literature as just one good jumping off point, and have broken up my anti-racist reading into sections:"
Posted by @victoriaalxndr
- Beth Blycker Koll

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Breaking White Supremacy: Martin Luther King, Jr. and the Black Social Gospel - Gary Dorrien

To Shape a New World: Essays on the Political Philosophy of Martin Luther King, Jr. - Tommie Shelbie and Brandon Terry

Revives My Soul Again: The Spirituality of Martin Luther King, Jr.  -Lewis Baldwin and Victor Anderson

The Radical King -- Martin Luther King, Jr. and Cornell West

The Sword and the Shield: The Revolutionary Lives of Malcolm X and Martin Luther King, Jr. - Peniel Joseph

@McKillop Library

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A number of powerful voices have called theologians to consider how the corrupting socialization of privilege can blind me to the challenges of working for a world that is harmonious, just and merciful. Bryan Massingale's Racial Justice and the Catholic Church is one book that has been very helpful for me in that process.

- Steve Rodenborn

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Racial & Social Justice Read-Aloud Videos for Children & Families

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Racial & Social Justice Read-Aloud Videos for Children & Families

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Don’t Touch My Hair! by Sharee Miller

Something Happened in Our Town by Marianne Celano, Marietta Collins, and Ann Hazzard

The Name Jar by Yangsook Choi

The Colors of Us by Karen Katz

Not My Idea by Anastasia Higginbotham

I Am Enough by Grace Byers

Julián is a Mermaid by Jessica Love

Mommy’s Khimar by Jamilah Thompkins-Bigelow

Rapunzel by Chloe Perkins

Big Hair, Don’t Care by Crystal Swain-Bates

This list of titles was borrowed from GISH (Greatest International Scavenger Hunt) May 2020
- Beth Blycker Koll

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Mindful of Race: Transforming Racism from the Inside Out by Ruth King

The Inner Work of Racial Justice: Healing Ourselves and Transforming Our Communities Through Mindfulness- Rhonda V. McGee

Both books -- and many other titles on racial justice -- can be found in our library.

Nancy Barta-Norton

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- Genna, Archives

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My name is Deb Curtis and I teach anthropology. This week I’m going to read Policing the Planet

Why the Policing Crisis Led to Black Lives Matter

Edited by Jordan T. Camp and Christina Heatherton

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Verso Books is the largest independent, radical publishing house in the English-speaking world.

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I'm Phil Robakiewicz, Director of Salve's Center for Student Development and I'm a white, cis-gendered, male Boomer. I had to learn about race academically rather than through lived experience because I grew up in an immigrant household in a predominantly white community. We easily labelled people by 'ethnicity' in my community, but race was a thing of the evening news and uncomfortable banter on TV sitcoms. It took me a long time to be able to understand and own my white privilege, and I work constantly to avoid abusing this strange privilege that I never asked for and never felt I was cultivating. I know better now (I hope!)
Some of the books particularly relevant to people in higher education that have helped in my personal journey to being an ally:

Hunger of Memory, Richard Rodriguez: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hunger_of_Memory

Why Are All the Black Kids Sitting Together in the Cafeteria?, Beverly Daniel Tatum: https://www.insidehighered.com/news/2017/09/06/beverly-daniel-tatum-discusses-new-version-why-are-all-black-kids-sitting-together

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks, Rebecca Skloot: https://www.hopkinsmedicine.org/henriettalacks/immortal-life-of-henrietta-lacks.html

Witnessing Whiteness, Shelly Tochluk: http://witnessingwhiteness.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/08/series_design-overview1.pdf

Benign Bigotry: The Psychology of Subtle Prejudice, Kristin J. Anderson: https://www.cambridge.org/us/academic/subjects/psychology/social-psychology/benign-bigotry-psychology-subtle-prejudice?format=HB&isbn=9780521878357

Best,
Phil

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Readings from Arthur Frankel's Psychology of Prejudice course

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Readings from Arthur Frankel's Psychology of Prejudice course

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Tuesday           10/01     “A White Student Called the Police on a Black Student Who was Napping” (S); “Colorado State University Investigates After Two Native American Men are Pulled Off Tour (S); “Race Related – First Person Accounts” (S); “Are You Actually an M.D.?  A Black Doctor Is Questioned As She Intervenes On A Delta Flight” (S)

Thursday          10/03     “An Open Letter to the Woman Who Told My Family to Go Back to China” (S);“Don’t Let Them Steal Your Joy” (S); “Early Experiences Dealing With Race” (S);“I Fit the Description” (S)

Tuesday          10/08      “Ten Things Everyone Should Know About Race” (S); Plous Preface (page ix) (T); “The Psychology of Prejudice, Stereotyping, and Discrimination: An Overview” (T)“; “How Texas Teaches History” (S); “Who is Black?  One Nation’s Definition” (T)

Thursday         10/10     Plous Assorted Readings (Pages 122-133) (T); “The Use of Blacks for Medical Experimentation and Demonstration in the Old South” (T); “Black Kids Get Less Pain Medication Than White Kids in ER” (S); “Girlhood Interrupted:The Erasure of Black Girls’ Childhood” (S); “Racial Bias Even When We have Good Intentions (S); “Our Biased Brains” (S); “Hard Look” (S)

Tuesday          10/15      “Service with a Sneer” (T); “When You’re Accustomed to Privilege, Equality Feels Like Oppression” (S); “When Whites Just Don’t Get It” (Parts 1-6) (S); “A History of White Delusion” (S); “White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack” (T); “Once Appalled by Race Profiling, Many Find Themselves Doing It” (T); “Profiling and the Demand for Security and Civil Liberties” (S)

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Global v. Local - Food and Migrations II

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Salsicce or Sausages The story begins with the author buying a large quantities of sausage on August 14, 2002 and that she felt odd doing this because she is not an Italian but is a Sunni Muslim. This desire for sausages came about suddenly and unprovoked.

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Accepting Our Fractioned Identities With Strength and Kindness

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Accepting Our Fractioned Identities With Strength and Kindness

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At the beginning of summer 2002, the Italian government passed a law asking all non-EEC immigrants to be fingerprinted to renew their permits. Not only did this problematic measure raise several protests among people but it also encouraged some Italian intellectuals to come forward and provide resources to understand the issues at stake better. Among them was Igiaba Scego, an Italian writer, journalist, and activist of Somali origin.

In her short story, Sausages, Scego questions what is it to be Italian by trying to eat one of the Belpaese's staple foods: a sausage.

Scego's family comes from one of the Italian empire's former African colonies, and carried with them into their new home country the thorny memory of their connection to the oppressor. As a Sunni Muslim grown and educated in a place that has (been forced to) become stereotypically white and catholic, Scego problematizes her understanding of what human identity is in the process of buying, cooking, and serving the "damned sausages:"

"I think I am a woman with no identity.
Better yet, a woman with several identities."

Who are we? What does define us? Is letting others define our identities our only option? Or do we have the power to shape them? And if so, to what extent? Where does this power place us within society as political subjects?

Scego answers these questions by turning down (spoiler alert) that food and accepting her fractioned identity. However, hers is not the only possible answer to these issues. There are more writers like her—for instance Laila Wadia, Amara Lakhous—who struggle to be recognized as Italians citizens and writers. I introduced some of them in my Food Culture class.

--Norman Rusin

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From Spain to the US: reflections on race

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From Spain to the US: reflections on race

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As a student of American history and culture when I lived in my home country (Spain), I was always interested in the African American experience and when I studied my MA at the University of Pennsylvania I took many classes about Slave narratives, narratives of oppression, and cinema, which I have to admit, I did not understand a lot. When I because a middle school teacher in Philadelphia, however, I started getting it and, there was a movie that impacted me a lot, Spike Lee's "Do the Right Thing." As a teacher of mostly black kids, I felt a tremendous responsibility and completely unprepared for the task but I could manage to create meaningful relationships with my students, many of whom I remember. As a professor at Salve I try to deal with this topic in some manner in every class, and, in particular, created and taught a course that deals specifically with this theme and which I will modify and teach again. As the mother of a little white boy, I am working to foster anti-racism in my son. So far, two of his favorite books to read before bed time are We are different, we are the same and Spike Lee's book, too, titled Please, Puppy Please. I also want to tell our students of color, I see you, and I am with you.
--Esther Alarcon-Arana

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We Need New Names is the 2013 debut novel of expatriate Zimbabwean writer NoViolet Bulawayo. The first chapter of the book, "Hitting Budapest", initially presented as a story in the Boston Review , won the 2011 Caine Prize for African Writing. when the Chair of Judges, Hisham Matar, said: "The language of 'Hitting Budapest' crackles.

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Recent reflections from the Office of Mission Integration

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Recent reflections from the Office of Mission Integration

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Killing of George Floyd exposes blind spot on racism, Catholic advocates say CruxNow

Editorial: What have you done? No accounting for deaths of Floyd, Taylor and Arbery National Catholic Reporter

'Running For Your Life': A Community Poem For Ahmaud Arbery NPR

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75 Things White People Can Do for Racial Justice

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75 Things White People Can Do for Racial Justice

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There's a saying in education that says, "What you do speaks so loudly they can't hear what you say." This article is from 2017 but it does a good job of taking the abstract and making it concrete so my white  family, friends can turn the "talking" into "walking."
Sue Pratt, Director
Academic Center for Excellence

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106 Things White People Can Do for Racial Justice

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Note 1: This article was last updated on February 5, 2022.
Note 2: Our work is to fix what we broke and left broken. The work isn’t done…

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I teach classes on human development, research, and contemporary families within the context of Psychology.

The New York Times Magazine's 1619 Project is very well-done. I highly recommend the 1619 Podcast.

Dr. Stephanie Jones-Rogers book "They Were Her Property" is an in-depth examination of the ways white women have directly contributed to the construction and reinforcement of slavery.

Having been raised Evangelical Christian, and now in the position of researching its far-reaching influence, I've found the following to be helpful:

The End of White Christian America by Robert Jones (historical overview)

Native by Kaitlin Curtice (Native American identity and Evangelical Christianity)

I'm Still Here by Austin Channing Brown (racial justice and the church)

Parenting Forward by Cindy Wang Brandt (post-Evangelicalism and parenting through a social justice lens)

Tori Williams Douglass' blog (Evangelical Christianity and race)

-Katie Gabriele-Black, Psychology

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Art by Jane Mount: https://janemount.com/#

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Understanding Prejudice and Discrimination by Scott Plous

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Understanding Prejudice and Discrimination by Scott Plous

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I have been teaching a course for about 20 years entitled "Psychology of Prejudice" and have been using a book edited by Scout Plous, a very well respected social psychologist.
--Art Frankel
https://salve.on.worldcat.org/oclc/49942438

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I'm a writing teacher striving to be an antiracist educator. A few years ago I made a promise to myself to devote most of my syllabus and personal reading list to works by women and writers of color. Here are a few things that have been useful to me, that challenged me, or that I simply adored reading. Because of the Sister's of Mercy focus on voting rights and a more fair criminal justice system, I've included a few non-fiction books that speak specifically to those concerns.

-Erin Harte

AntiRacist Pedagogy

Scaffolded Anti-Racist Activities

Antiracist Writing Assessment Ecologies: Teaching and Assessing Writing for a Socially Just Future by Asao B. Inoue

Let's Talk, Discussing Race, Racism and Other Difficult Topics with Students by Teaching Tolerance

Performing Antiracist Pedagogy in Rhetoric, Writing, and Communication edited by Frankie Condon and Vershawn Ashanti Young

A Talk to Teachers by James Baldwin

On Being Interview with Ta-Nehisi Coates by Krista Tippett

Teaching to Transgress by Bell Hooks

Nonfiction

Heavy by Kiese Lamon

Pushout, by Monique Morris

Morris' Ted Talk

March (Graphic Novel Series)  by John Lewis and Andrew Aydin and illustrated by Nate Powell

Book 1
Book 2
Book 3

How I Shed My Skin by Jim Grimsley

Between the World and Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates

Fiction

Sing Unburied Sing, Jesmyn Ward

Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead

Song of Solomon by Toni Morrison

Poetry
Book of Delights by Ross Gay

Essays

Walking While Black

TedTalks
Baratunde Thurston: "How to Deconstruct Racism One Headline at a Time"

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My name is Chad Raymond. My teaching connects race/racism with political identity and poverty through topics like immigration and economic development. Resources that I find useful:

White Fragility by Robin DiAngelo.

Americanah by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie.

We Need New Names by NoViolet Bulawayo.

A Good Provider Is One Who Leaves by Jason DeParle.

"Home Is Where They Let You Live" by Jasmin Darznik.

"Living Abroad Is My Way of Prolonging My Black Son’s Life" by Imani Bashir.

"Africa for Norway" by SAIH Norway.

"39 Cents" by Saturday Night Live.

"The White Savior Industrial Complex" by Teju Cole.

"Building the Troost Wall: Structural Racism in Kansas City" by Michael Wesch.

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I have been teaching SOA 211 Race and Ethnic Relations at Salve for the last three years, but as a sociologist I have been working with students to confront race, class, and gender inequalities for most of my career. Here are some of the books and films I have found most helpful; not exhaustive, but a place to start.   Laura O'Toole, 5/29/2020

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I have been teaching SOA 211 Race and Ethnic Relations at Salve for the last three years, but as a sociologist I have been working with students to confront race, class, and gender inequalities for most of my career. Here are some of the books and films I have found most helpful; not exhaustive, but a place to start.   Laura O'Toole, 5/29/2020

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Readings related to race and the image. 

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Readings related to race and the image. 

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As a professor of photography, much of my learning about the history of race in the United States has come through the history of photography. Below are a few readings and films I've come across that have stuck with me. This is not an exhaustive list by far, but it's a start. If it seems like a lot, start with the highlighted items.

-Jodie Goodnough

Books:
So You Want to Talk About Race, Ijeoma Oluo

The Warmth of Other Suns, Isabel Wilkerson

The New Jim Crow, Michelle Alexander

Critical Race Theory, Richard Delgado and Jean Stefancic

James Baldwin, The Fire Next Time (or anything by Baldwin, really)

Films:
13th (documentary) by Netflix

I Am Not Your Negro, 2016

Articles:
https://eji.org/reports/lynching-in-america/

https://www.nytimes.com/2018/04/28/opinion/sunday/ida-b-wells-lynching-black-women.html

https://blacklivesmatter.com/herstory/
https://www.nytimes.com/2015/05/24/magazine/death-in-the-browser-tab.html

Also! Expand your social media. Follow creators of color, historians, activists. Look at your Instagram or Twitter account and see if it's all white. If it is, change that.

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A REFLECTION: George Floyd, Ahmaud Arbery & Breonna Taylor

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A REFLECTION: George Floyd, Ahmaud Arbery & Breonna Taylor

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A post by Ada Renée Williams, Director

Institute Office of Anti-Racism & Racial Equity, Sisters of Mercy of the Americas
submitted by Anna Mae Mayer, Director, Mercy Center for Spiritual Life

These days are difficult for Black Folx.

From being shot dead while sleeping (#BreonnaTaylor),

hunted like prey and killed in the streets

(#AhmaudArbery #GeorgeFloyd)  as if we,

Black People,

are void of all humanity.

These are most difficult days. . .

There aren't adequate words to balm this wound.

It. Is. TOO. Deep.

-ARW 5/28/20 ###

(Note: When the ills of the world hit hard, I write free-verse and turn to music.  I share the above free-verse and the video below for your reflection. -arw)

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Works on Racism in the Memory of the World Library

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Works on Racism in the Memory of the World Library

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These are all available for free download.
- Genna, archives

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We Were Eight Years in Power: an American Tragedy by Ta-Nehisi Coates

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We Were Eight Years in Power: an American Tragedy by Ta-Nehisi Coates

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- Genna, Archives

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We were eight years in power : an American tragedy

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Get this from a library! We were eight years in power : an American tragedy. [Ta-Nehisi Coates] -- "'We were eight years in power" was the lament of Reconstruction-era black politicians as the American experiment in multiracial democracy ended with the return of white supremacist rule in the ...

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Created in reaction to the police killing of Freddie Gray and subsequent protests.
- Genna, Archives

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- Genna, Archives

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Black Lives Matter Syllabus - Taught and Designed by Frank Leon Roberts, New York University.

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Syllabus for White People to Educate Themselves

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Syllabus for White People to Educate Themselves

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Created by Dismantling Racism Works. This organization has also created an online workbook as a community resource. - Genna, Archives

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AMAZING GRACE: The Lives of Children and the Conscience of a Nation

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AMAZING GRACE: The Lives of Children and the Conscience of a Nation

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by Jonathan Kozol was one of the formative books I read as I was working in Harlem and learning about how racism affects lives on the ground. As I was reading it, I saw the injustice of systematic oppression all around me. People I worked with and cared about were making their way in the world, raising families, living, laughing, and caring for each other in the midst of terrible institutional barriers, which infiltrated every aspect of their lives. This book gave a perspective on how we got here.
--Dawn Emsellem
Director of Library Services