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I think that our society sees deserving people as those who are American Citizens and hard working people. Politicians, doctors, people like that who worked hard for their place in society. There is little thought about those who do not fit in those categories in my opinion. I however think that everyone is deserving of protections no matter where they are from.

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I think that society definitely sees refugees as undeserving. those who are immigrants are lazy and economic immigrants not because they're running for their lives. The stigma behind immigrants and refugees is insane, a lot of people think they don't even deserve to come to this country just to be safe. I personally don't feel that anyone is underserving of protection as a human being.

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I believe that we have been raised to see those as deserving who are educated. Those with these words or phrases: hard workers, not on government assistance, healthy, not criminals, groomed nicely, having a home, financially stable, English speaking and much much more. While I personally do not agree with all these stigmas, I will admit that I have been privileged and raised in away that some would see as deserving.

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There are many concepts that people think as undeserving. Some include: homeless individuals begging on the street for money, non-English speakers, those who practice various religions that we don't understand, criminals, domestic abusers, those with different political ideas than are own, those on government assistance. While the list could go on and on, I think it is very important to reflect on our own biased thoughts and admit to our own undeserving behaviors.

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I was required to read this book for a previous class in undergrad, but I recommend it to anyone.

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"The value in White Fragility lies in its methodical, irrefutable exposure of racism in thought and action, and its call for humility and vigilance."
- The New Yorker

"[T]houghtful, instructive, and comprehensive . . . This slim book is impressive in its scope and complexity; DiAngelo provides a powerful lens for examining, and practical tools for grappling with, racism today."
- Publishers Weekly, Starred Review

" White Fragility is a book everyone should be exposed to. With any luck, most who are will be inspired to search themselves and interrupt their contributions to racism."
- Shelf Awareness, Starred Review

"A valuable guide . . . While especially helpful for those new to the critical analysis of whiteness, this work also offers a useful refresher to anyone committed to the ongoing process of self-assessment and anti-oppression work."
- Library Journal

"A penetrating new book."
- Pacific Standard

"A vital, necessary, and beautiful book, a bracing call to white folk everywhere to see their whiteness for what it is and to seize the opportunity to make things better now."
-Michael Eric Dyson

"As a woman of color, I find hope in this book because of its potential to disrupt the patterns and relationships that have emerged out of long-standing colonial principles and beliefs. White Fragility is an essential tool toward authentic dialogue and action. May it be so!"
-Shakti Butler, president of World Trust and director of Mirrors of Privilege: Making Whiteness Visible

"A rare and incisive examination of the system of white body supremacy that binds us all as Americans. . . . With authenticity and clarity, she provides the antidote to white fragility and a road map for developing white racial stamina and humility. White Fragility loosens the bonds of white supremacy and binds us back together as human beings."
-Resmaa Menakem, author of My Grandmother's Hands and Rock the Boat

"As powerful forces of white racism again swell, DiAngelo invites white progressives to have a courageous conversation about their culture of complicity. . . . White Fragility provides important antiracist understanding and essential strategies for well-intentioned white people who truly endeavor to be a part of the solution."
-Glenn E. Singleton, author of Courageous Conversations About Race

"Robin DiAngelo demonstrates an all-too-rare ability to enter the racial conversation with complexity, nuance, and deep respect. Her writing establishes her mastery in accessing the imaginal, metaphoric mind where the possibility for transformation resides. With an unwavering conviction that change is possible, her message is clear: the incentive for white engagement in racial justice work is ultimately self-liberation."
-Leticia Nieto, coauthor of Beyond Inclusion, Beyond Empowerment

"White fragility is the secret ingredient that makes racial conversations so difficult and achieving racial equity even harder. But by exposing it and showing us all-including white folks-how it operates and how it hurts us, individually and collectively, Robin DiAngelo has performed an invaluable service. An indispensable volume for understanding one of the most important (and yet rarely appreciated) barriers to achieving racial justice."
-Tim Wise, author of White Like Me: Reflections on Race from a Privileged Son

"Robin DiAngelo's White Fragility brings language to the emotional structures that make true discussions about racial attitudes difficult. With clarity and compassion, DiAngelo allows us to understand racism as a practice not restricted to 'bad people.' In doing so, she moves our national discussions forward with new 'rules of engagement.' This is a necessary book for all people invested in societal change through productive social and intimate relationships."
-Claudia Rankine

" White Fragility is a must-read for all educators because racism and racial disparities in access and opportunity continue to be an urgent issue in our schools. As educators, we need to summon up the courage and together act deliberately and honestly to develop the skills we need to engage in conversations about bias, race, and racism-especially our own."
-Val Brown, professional development facilitator and founder of #ClearTheAir

Foreword by Michael Eric Dyson
Author's Note

Introduction: We Can't Get There from Here

1
The Challenges of Talking to White People About Racism

2
Racism and White Supremacy

3
Racism After the Civil Rights Movement

4
How Does Race Shape the Lives of White People?

5
The Good/Bad Binary

6
Anti-Blackness

7
Racial Triggers for White People

8
The Result: White Fragility

9
White Fragility in Action

10
White Fragility and the Rules of Engagement

11
White Women's Tears

12
Where Do We Go from Here?

Resources for Continuing Education
Acknowledgments
Notes

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White Fragility by Dr. Robin DiAngelo: 9780807047408 | PenguinRandomHouse.com: Books

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The New York Times best-selling book exploring the counterproductive reactions white people have when their assumptions about race are challenged, and how these reactions maintain racial inequality. ...

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Our country often promotes the individuals who work hard, have an education, look professional, give to charity, and are financially stable. This list goes on and on and could be a mile long stating positive qualities that individuals possess making them appear to be “deserving”. I believe that everyone is deserving in their own way and has an individual story to tell explaining their situation and way of life.

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Our society has placed many stereotypes on individuals and qualities that make people seem “undeserving”. These groups include refugees, foreigners, people living off government benefits, homeless people, criminals, and the list could go on and on. Education status, race, age, and gender also play into this category at times.  After watching this week’s lecture video, I found myself thinking of my own biases and I admit that I silently question people’s motives and "deservingness" at times. Society has normalized this behavior which may be a big part of the problem.

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I feel like I have heard the word "undeserving" a lot in my life time. I believe that from a young age we are taught who is "deserving" and who is not "undeserving" in society. Our society tries to make us believe these aspects about "unworthy" people. For example some groups that come to mind are immigrants, refugees, homeless people, people who live off the system, and many other vulnerable populations. It makes me sad to think about! These are stigmas and stereotypes that our society has placed on many people. I believe that this behavior has been overlooked and "normal" for too long and it is not right. The importance of education and empathy is so important, especially now! :)

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I think the word "deserving" is something that I was taught that only successful people "deserved" good lives growing up. It was what I saw when watching tv and what I observed from the people who were around me. I like how Erin stated "We have been raised to see those as deserving who are educated." I believe a phrase that I am similar with is hard worker too. In our society, people really look down on people who get public assistance and it is unfortunate. I heard a lot of great things about that book, I want to read it!

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Deserving implies worthy.  That someone has a compelling and tragic story that is worthy of attention and help. Sometimes it feels like  if someone's life story isn't devastating than they don't "pass". As the Ungrateful Refugee mentions, the deserving must have flawless and tragic stories.

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The idea of undeserving seems to be growing constantly by those who make decisions about immigrants and refugees. I work with those who are experiencing homelessness, the idea of "undeserving poor" is always present. If someone shows up and declares a need, services and goods should be provided. Someone's homelessness is not more valid if their story is sadder and the same must be recognized for those seeking safety from their home country.

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What our society deems "deserving" are people born as citizens of the USA or at least are legally here. If they are refugee's then they have to have the perfect story and hard experiences to be deemed as deserving by many in our society. The "self made" person who have pulled themselves up by their boot straps, "worked hard", to create the life they live. This is really devastating to me that a person's experience has to be perfect and tragic enough to be deserving of worthiness where we live.

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Our society has placed the label of 'undeserving' on people who are for example, struggling with poverty, homelessness, addiction, or here "illegally".

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Article about the book White Fragility

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In more than twenty years of running diversity-training and cultural-competency workshops for American companies, the academic and educator Robin DiAngelo has noticed that white people are sensationally, histrionically bad at discussing racism. Like waves on sand, their reactions form predictable patterns: they will insist that they "were taught to treat everyone the same," that they are "color-blind," that they "don't care if you are pink, purple, or polka-dotted." They will point to friends and family members of color, a history of civil-rights activism, or a more "salient" issue, such as class or gender. They will shout and bluster. They will cry. In 2011, DiAngelo coined the term "white fragility" to describe the disbelieving defensiveness that white people exhibit when their ideas about race and racism are challenged-and particularly when they feel implicated in white supremacy. Why, she wondered, did her feedback prompt such resistance, as if the mention of racism were more offensive than the fact or practice of it?

In a new book, " White Fragility," DiAngelo attempts to explicate the phenomenon of white people's paper-thin skin. She argues that our largely segregated society is set up to insulate whites from racial discomfort, so that they fall to pieces at the first application of stress-such as, for instance, when someone suggests that "flesh-toned" may not be an appropriate name for a beige crayon. Unused to unpleasantness (more than unused to it-racial hierarchies tell white people that they are entitled to peace and deference), they lack the "racial stamina" to engage in difficult conversations. This leads them to respond to "racial triggers"-the show "Dear White People," the term "wypipo"-with "emotions such as anger, fear and guilt," DiAngelo writes, "and behaviors such as argumentation, silence, and withdrawal from the stress-inducing situation."

DiAngelo, who is white, emphasizes that the stances that make up white fragility are not merely irrational. (Or even comical, though some of her anecdotes-participants in a voluntary anti-racism workshop dissolving with umbrage at any talk of racism-simmer with perverse humor. "I have found that the only way to give feedback without triggering white fragility is not to give it at all," she remarks wryly.) These splutterings "work," DiAngelo explains, "to reinstate white equilibrium as they repel the challenge, return our racial comfort, and maintain our dominance within the racial hierarchy." She finds that the social costs for a black person in awakening the sleeping dragon of white fragility often prove so high that many black people don't risk pointing out discrimination when they see it. And the expectation of "white solidarity"-white people will forbear from correcting each other's racial missteps, to preserve the peace-makes genuine allyship elusive. White fragility holds racism in place.

DiAngelo addresses her book mostly to white people, and she reserves her harshest criticism for white liberals like herself (and like me), whom she sees as refusing to acknowledge their own participation in racist systems. "I believe," she writes, "that white progressives cause the most daily damage to people of color." Not only do these people fail to see their complicity, but they take a self-serving approach to ongoing anti-racism efforts: "To the degree that white progressives think we have arrived, we will put our energy into making sure that others see us as having arrived." Even the racial beliefs and responses that feel authentic or well-intentioned have likely been programmed by white supremacy, to perpetuate white supremacy. Whites profit off of an American political and economic system that showers advantages on racial "winners" and oppresses racial "losers." Yet, DiAngelo writes, white people cling to the notion of racial innocence, a form of weaponized denial that positions black people as the "havers" of race and the guardians of racial knowledge. Whiteness, on the other hand, scans as invisible, default, a form of racelessness. "Color blindness," the argument that race shouldn't matter, prevents us from grappling with how it does.

Much of "White Fragility" is dedicated to pulling back the veil on these so-called pillars of whiteness: assumptions that prop up racist beliefs without our realizing it. Such ideologies include individualism, or the distinctly white-American dream that one writes one's own destiny, and objectivity, the confidence that one can free oneself entirely from bias. As a sociologist trained in mapping group patterns, DiAngelo can't help but regard both precepts as naïve (at best) and arrogant (at worst). To be perceived as an individual, to not be associated with anything negative because of your skin color, she notes, is a privilege largely afforded to white people; although most school shooters, domestic terrorists, and rapists in the United States are white, it is rare to see a white man on the street reduced to a stereotype. Likewise, people of color often endure having their views attributed to their racial identities; the luxury of impartiality is denied them. (In outlining these discrepancies, DiAngelo draws heavily on the words of black writers and scholars-Ta-Nehisi Coates, Toni Morrison, Ijeoma Oluo, Cheryl Harris-although, perhaps surprisingly, she incorporates few present-day interviews with people of color.)

In DiAngelo's almost epidemiological vision of white racism, our minds and bodies play host to a pathogen that seeks to replicate itself, sickening us in the process. Like a mutating virus, racism shape-shifts in order to stay alive; when its explicit expression becomes taboo, it hides in coded language. Nor does prejudice disappear when people decide that they will no longer tolerate it. It just looks for ways to avoid detection. "The most effective adaptation of racism over time," DiAngelo claims, "is the idea that racism is conscious bias held by mean people." This "good/bad binary," positing a world of evil racists and compassionate non-racists, is itself a racist construct, eliding systemic injustice and imbuing racism with such shattering moral meaning that white people, especially progressives, cannot bear to face their collusion in it. (Pause on that, white reader. You may have subconsciously developed your strong negative feelings about racism in order to escape having to help dismantle it.) As an ethical thinker, DiAngelo belongs to the utilitarian school, which places less importance on attitudes than on the ways in which attitudes cause harm. Unpacking the fantasy of black men as dangerous and violent, she does not simply fact-check it; she shows the myth's usefulness to white people-to obscure the historical brutality against African-Americans, and to justify continued abuse.

DiAngelo sometimes adopts a soothing, conciliatory tone toward white readers, as if she were appeasing a child on the verge of a tantrum. "If your definition of a racist is someone who holds conscious dislike of people because of race, then I agree that it is offensive for me to suggest that you are racist when I don't know you," she writes. "I also agree that if this is your definition of racism, and you are against racism, then you are not racist. Now breathe. I am not using this definition of racism, and I am not saying that you are immoral. If you can remain open as I lay out my argument, it should soon begin to make sense." One has the grim hunch that such an approach has been honed over years of placating red-faced white people, workshop participants leaping at any excuse to discount their instructor. DiAngelo, for all the outrageousness she documents, never comes across as anything other than preternaturally calm, patient, and lucid, issuing prescriptions for a better world as if from beneath a blanket of Ativan. Her almost motorized equipoise clarifies the book's stakes: she cannot afford to lose us, who are so easily lost.

Self-righteousness becomes a seductive complement to "White Fragility," as gin is to a mystery novel. ("I would never," I thought, when DiAngelo described the conversation in which her friend dismissed a predominantly black neighborhood as "bad," unsafe.) Yet the point of the book is that each white person believes herself the exception, one of very few souls magically exempt from a lifetime of racist conditioning. DiAngelo sets aside a whole chapter for the self-indulgent tears of white women, so distraught at the country's legacy of racist terrorism that they force people of color to drink from the firehose of their feelings about it.

The book is more diagnostic than solutions-oriented, and the guidelines it offers toward the end-listen, don't center yourself, get educated, think about your responses and what role they play-won't shock any nervous systems. The value in "White Fragility" lies in its methodical, irrefutable exposure of racism in thought and action, and its call for humility and vigilance. Combatting one's inner voices of racial prejudice, sneaky and, at times, irresistibly persuasive, is a life's work. For all the paranoid American theories of being "red-pilled," of awakening into a many-tentacled liberal/feminist/Jewish conspiracy, the most corrosive force, the ectoplasm infusing itself invisibly through media and culture and politics, is white supremacy.

That's from a white progressive perspective, of course. The conspiracy of racism is hardly invisible to people of color, many of whom, I suspect, could have written this book in their sleep.

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A Sociologist Examines the "White Fragility" That Prevents White Americans from Confronting Racism

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In more than twenty years of running diversity-training and cultural-competency workshops for American companies, the academic and educator Robin DiAngelo has noticed that white people are sensationally, histrionically bad at discussing racism. Like waves on sand, their reactions form predictable patterns: they will insist that they "were taught to treat everyone the same," that they are "color-blind," that they "don't care if you are pink, purple, or polka-dotted."

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I think our society views individuals who are deserving as those who are hardworking, are educated, who have no criminal or substance abuse history, and who are American citizens. Individuals who are deserving must be the “perfect” victim.

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There are various factors that shape our society’s view of who are deserving. Negative stereotypes play a large role in society’s view. There are many characteristics that are deemed undeserving including having current or history of legal or substance abuse issues, living in poverty, being uneducated and being unemployed. Immigrants and refugees are groups of individuals that are often deemed undeserving.

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This article examines the burden of grief and trauma as a risk to Black mother's health.

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This story is part of a group of stories called

First-person essays and interviews with unique perspectives on complicated issues.

When one of us loses a child, all of us feel that hurt; vicarious trauma is an integral aspect of Black motherhood.

My grandmother raised children in the legacy of Mamie Till-Mobley, the mother of 14-year-old Emmett Till, who was kidnapped, beaten, mutilated, and dumped in the Tallahatchie River in 1955. My mother grew up in the shadow of Till and the 16th Street Baptist Church bombings, where four Black young girls were killed and many others injured in what was the third bombing in 11 days in 1963. And in a sick twist of fate, I've had to carry them all - including the fears of my children becoming the next Trayvon, Tamir, or Aiyana.

These days I turn on the news and I am faced with the murders of Ahmaud Arbery and Breonna Taylor - young unarmed Black people at the hands of armed, white men, both in uniform and plainclothes. Then there is the death of George Floyd, who died after several minutes of saying, "I can't breathe," pleading for a police officer to stop pressing a knee into the back of his neck during an arrest. I carry these children, too.

On top of that, I worry about the coronavirus. Black Americans are dying of Covid-19 at a rate nearly three times higher than white people. I also think about masks. When unmasked, we Black mothers fear our loved ones will suffer from the risks associated with complications from the disease. When masked, we fear the risks associated with complications of bias and racism.

As Black mothers, we are living in an especially troublesome time - sandwiched between the current public health threat of Covid-19 and the longtime reality of police brutality. We are trapped in a double-bind of racism.

While there's an influx of " pandemic grief guides," none are useful in teaching Black children that the virus is terrifying, but that racism is the public health crisis more likely to kill you. There are no instructions about where Black mothers are supposed to place their fears and sorrow.

As Black mothers, grief is embedded in our being. It accumulates and manifests as body aches and pains. But many of us have never been taught how to deal with it so it doesn't become yet another risk to our health.

The emotional and physical burden of trauma on Black mothers' bodies

Growing up, when my family experienced anti-Black racism from the outside world, or disrespect from men within our orbit, I used to be upset that no woman in my family had modeled authentic hurt. But now that I have two children of my own, I understand. Unattended grief is heavy and slows one down. Black mothers don't have time to spare. My mother chose to teach me what I needed to survive.

"I almost resented the way that white parents spoke of self-isolation with such grief"

What I did learn from my mother about grief was to cloak it in irritation. I can disassociate so skillfully that the untrained eye has no idea that my stoic expressions and firm tone stand in for the overwhelming fears I have. I fear the day my 4-year-old son will stop being "so cute" and become "so scary." I'm terrified that my daughter or I will be the next Black woman or girl killed in what should be the safety of our home. And so I pretend that everything is fine and deal with my stressed-induced muscle spasms silently.

Kelly Glass, a mother of two Black boys, was initially relieved to have her sons home during the pandemic. It meant she didn't have to worry about them being criminalized at school or some other public place.

"I almost resented the way that white parents spoke of self-isolation with such grief," she said, referring to the stay-at-home orders. "It reminded me that as a Black mother, I've always been acutely aware of the dangers in this world that are out there for my children just for existing."

I'm personally acquainted with this state of hyperawareness, she described - a persistent fear that the smallest interaction can trigger a sequence of events leaving them unsafe.

This fear is another stress added to the generation of stresses that many Black bodies feel.

"Weathering is the term that was coined to describe how racism causes our health to worsen. It leads to higher rates of diabetes and high blood pressure," Dr. Joia Adele Crear-Perry, president of the National Birth Equity Collaborative, told Vox.

Black Americans between ages 35 and 64 are 50 percent more likely to have high blood pressure, three times more likely to have kidney failure, and 60 percent more likely to have diabetes than their white peers. These are all conditions that leave us more vulnerable to Covid-19, too.

"The collective PTSD we will all have when this pandemic is over has only heightened the stressors Black women faced pre-pandemic," Crear-Perry says.

Then compound those stressors with being a mother.

Early this year, Cynthia G. Colen, associate professor at the Department of Sociology Ohio State University, published perhaps the first study to suggest that children's exposure to discrimination can harm their mothers' health. The research, which examined 40 years of self-reported data from mother-child pairs - 3,004 mothers and 6,562 children - illustrated the intergenerational nature of adverse health effects.

Researchers noted that Black and Hispanic mothers exist in a state of "high alert to the possibility that their child will encounter unfair treatment" and the potential consequences of this stress are factors like slower blood pressure recovery, increases in inflammatory markers, and worse sleep patterns.

Colen and the team found that "by age 50, 31 percent of blacks reported having fair or poor health, compared to 17 percent of whites and 26 percent of Hispanics, and that mothers of children reporting moderate or high levels of acute discrimination were up to 22 percent more likely to face a decline in their health between age 40 and 50 than mothers whose children did not."

When asked about the importance of her research in today's context, Colen highlighted the role images of Black death have in accelerating Black mothers' aging and health deterioration. She notes that racism and racial inequality have substantial consequences on the health of Black women and mothers - with the clearest manifestation being the "never-ending hypervigilance" that we need to survive in a society that was founded on our subjugation.

"The recent deaths of Ahmaud Arbery and Breonna Taylor are a brutal reminder that no matter how vigilantly Black mothers try to protect their children, or other family members, it might not be enough to ensure their safety," Colen said.

In order to heal, we must process

Expressing grief is one of the few coping tools that Black mothers can call upon to help navigate the stressors of the world. But when we miss out on the opportunity to do so - an understandable decision considering the constant flow of traumatic stories that we're exposed to - our health suffers.

Amber Hewitt, a counseling psychologist with expertise in racial identity and coping, says it's necessary to "get real with" our emotions for the healing process to begin.

"The trauma narrative, as we call in it psychology, is a powerful technique designed to help survivors of trauma to make sense of their experiences. Sharing your trauma story helps you to organize the memories related to the trauma, and it even helps lessen the painful emotions that go along with it," she says.

We saw the trauma narrative in action in Till-Mobley's willingness to grieve publicly and have an open casket funeral for her son Emmitt, which kickstarted a movement that allowed 50,000 people to visualize the impact of white violence on Black families.

Just as Till-Mobley used her grief as a tool of system change, Trayvon Martin's mother, Sybrina Fulton, has channeled the legacy of community and grief as a resource for support. Her organization, Circle of Mothers, provides an opportunity for mothers who have lost loved ones to gun violence to find empowerment and healing through community.

Today, there are others creating safe practices and spaces for Black mothers to let go of their grief and share their experiences.

Alexis Flanagan, co-director of Resonance Network, says that connection and community are necessary tools to dismantle oppressive structures and create the violence-free world where all - particularly groups who have disproportionately suffered, like Black and Indigenous womxn and girls - finally have equal opportunity to thrive.

Recently, Resonance Network organized an online grief circle that used the knowledge of ancestral practices and wisdom as a blueprint for healing. "Wailing circles are ancestral practices that provide critical care, especially in moments like these ... spaces to express our grief and loss as we call the names of those who are sick, those who have died, and those who have been killed," explained ML Daniel of Spiritual Alchemy and Rebeka Ndosi of Healing Illuminated, who helped facilitate Resonance Network's 90-minute virtual offering.

Trina Greene Brown started Parenting for Liberation as a space where Black parents could shift harmful narratives through community, dialogue, and reflection. She is concerned about the impact trauma and suffering is having on the wellness of Black families, especially during Covid-19.

"Black mothers require these healing resources because of the pre-existing disparities in access to both physical and mental health resources, coupled with the added pressures of round-the-clock caregiving, financial uncertainty, school closures, and social isolation that is uniquely impacting Black mothers," Greene Brown says.

In response, she developed "Care for the Caregivers," a wellness fund, in partnership with The Well, that makes individual and couples coaches available to Black parents and caregivers virtually and free of charge.

The spots filled swiftly - every applicant was a Black mother - making it clear that Black women are interested in doing the work of resolving trauma. But when it comes to everyday and widespread access, systemic and financial barriers like lack of insurance, limited availability of mental health providers of color, and the demands of daily caretaking complicate the process of Black mothers receiving help.

For me, it took six counselors and paying for teletherapy out of pocket to locate a mental health professional - another Black mother - who I could trust and afford.

Between sessions, my Black momma friends and I share our fears of raising Black boys and girls in a racist, sexist world. I'm also working to grow a social movement called #FreeBlackmotherhood to encourage Black mothers to emphasize authentic emotions, both negative and positive. And while I've accepted that my mother rarely verbalized grief, she did show me rituals to help - hot baths to soothe muscles that ached from stress, encouragement to play as hard as I work, and a suggestion to pray over the things I can't control.

Hewitt says these rituals have a long history as coping tools in Black families. But Black mothers must learn to care for themselves the way they care for others.
A. Rochaun Meadows-Fernandez Support Vox's explanatory journalism is an award-winning writer, speaker, and activist working to amplify Black women's voices in the mainstream dialogue, especially within conversations on health and parenting. She is also the founder of the #FreeBlackmotherhood movement.
"Black mothers should turn those same techniques on to themselves," she says. "It should not be considered an act of self-indulgence, but part of a practice to show self-love."

Every day at Vox, we aim to answer your most important questions and provide you, and our audience around the world, with information that has the power to save lives. Our mission has never been more vital than it is in this moment: to empower you through understanding. Vox's work is reaching more people than ever, but our distinctive brand of explanatory journalism takes resources - particularly during a pandemic and an economic downturn. Your financial contribution will not constitute a donation, but it will enable our staff to continue to offer free articles, videos, and podcasts at the quality and volume that this moment requires. Please consider making a contribution to Vox today.

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First-person essays and interviews with unique perspectives on complicated issues. When one of us loses a child, all of us feel that hurt; vicarious trauma is an integral aspect of Black motherhood. My grandmother raised children in the legacy of Mamie Till-Mobley, the mother of 14-year-old Emmett Till, who was kidnapped, beaten, mutilated, and dumped in the Tallahatchie River in 1955.

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When thinking about the word deserving, I think about how society shapes this word into what is socially portrayed as deserving. According to society, deserving individuals are the ones that are working towards the American Dream. Hardworking and employed, being Caucasian and successful, all while being on the straight and narrow with no other negative factors in life.

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This is a podcast out of Duke university that tells stories about the human experience and U.S. society. Their three main series: The Land that Never has Been, MEN, and Seeing White are very well done!

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John Biewen's radio work has taken him to forty American states and to Europe, Japan, and India. He has produced for the NPR newsmagazines, This American Life, Studio 360, American RadioWorks, and the BBC World Service. He is audio program director at the Center for Documentary Studies, where, in addition to producing Scene on Radio, he teaches audio courses to undergraduate, graduate, and continuing education students. With co-editor Alexa Dilworth, he edited the book, Reality Radio: Telling True Stories in Sound, now in its second edition.

About Chenjerai Kumanyika

Chenjerai Kumanyika, collaborator on the Seeing White series, is a researcher, journalist, and artist who works as an assistant professor in Rutgers University's Department of Journalism and Media Studies. His research and teaching focus on the intersections of social justice and emerging media in the cultural and creative industries. Kumanyika is the co-executive producer and co-host of UnCivil, Gimlet Media's podcast on the Civil War. He has also been a contributor to Transom, VICE, and NPR's Code Switch and Invisibilia podcasts and All Things Considered, and he is a news analyst for Rising Up Radio with Sonali Kolhatkar.

About Celeste Headlee

Celeste Headlee is a radio journalist who has appeared on NPR, PBS World, PRI, CNN, BBC, and other international networks. She has hosted the daily talk show On Second Thought for Georgia Public Broadcasting and at National Public Radio has anchored shows including Tell Me More, Talk of the Nation, All Things Considered, and Weekend Edition. Headlee's book We Need to Talk: How to Have Conversations That Matter , was named one of NPR's Best Books of 2017; she is now working on her second book and speaks to groups around the world on the art of conversation, journalism, and more.

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Scene on Radio is a podcast that tells stories exploring human experience and American society. Produced and hosted by John Biewen, Scene on Radio comes from the Center for Documentary Studies at Duke University (CDS) and is distributed by PRX. Seasons 1 and 2 featured a mix of stand-alone episodes

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Undeserving is a word that American society throws out towards anyone that is not the dominant race or holding any high power. This includes refugees, other races, homeless population, those incarcerated or with a criminal record, those on government assistance and living in poverty, and those without an educational background.

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Legal Resource Center

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As of December 6, 2018, 32 states plus the District of Colombia and Puerto Rico, have legalized medical marijuana. Ten states, including Michigan, have legalized marijuana for recreational purposes, too.

People who are not U.S. citizens may believe that using marijuana in Michigan-whether for recreational or medical use-is permissible and will not affect their immigration status. Unfortunately, that is wrong!! It is still a federal offense to possess marijuana even if, under state law, it is legal for medical or recreational purposes.

For Immediate Release
Contact: Alyson Robbins
arobbins@lsscm.org, 734.794.9563

DETROIT, MI (June 14, 2018) - The Michigan Immigrant Rights Center (MIRC) recently received funding from The Community Foundation for Southeast Michigan and The Kresge Foundation to expand free legal services for immigrants across Michigan. Through the "Front Door" project, MIRC and its partners aim to connect every individual with immigration legal needs in the Detroit Metro area to a trained, legal professional.

To kick off our #LetsDoMore campaign, here's a look at our work and how it has changed since November.

WARNING: DO NOT TRAVEL OUTSIDE THE UNITED STATES IF YOU ARE FROM AN AFFECTED COUNTRY

President Trump issued an Executive Order on Friday, January 27, 2017, that says that people who are citizens of Iran, Iraq, Libya, Somalia, Sudan, Syria and Yemen may not enter the U.S. for at least 90 days. This includes people with Lawful Permanent Resident or "Green Card" status as well as any other visas. Citizens of those countries SHOULD NOT TRAVEL OUTSIDE THE UNITED STATES for any reason. This includes travel to Canada.

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As of December 6, 2018, 32 states plus the District of Colombia and Puerto Rico, have legalized medical marijuana. Ten states, including Michigan, have legalized marijuana for recreational purposes, too. People who are not U.S. citizens may believe that using marijuana in Michigan-whether for recreational or medical use-is permissible and will not affect their immigration status.

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Grassroots Organizing

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Our Story

Cosecha is a nonviolent movement fighting for permanent protection, dignity, and respect for the 11 million undocumented immigrantsin the United States. Our name, "harvest" in Spanish, honors the long tradition of farmworker organizing and the present-day pain of the thousands of undocumented workers whose labor continues to feed the country. Committed to winning real victories for our community, Cosecha believes in using non-cooperation to leverage the power of immigrant labor and consumption and force a meaningful shift in public opinion.

Our movement emerged from a year and a half of strategic planning by immigrant rights and Dreamer organizers who have watched politicians battle for our votes, only to stall legislation year after year. For this reason, Cosecha doesn't rely on traditional tactics or dance with political parties. Instead, we're going on the offensive and calling for a series of strikes and boycotts to show that this country cannot function without immigrants. Our campaigns are multifaceted but all focus on building the power of the immigrant community and activating the public to our support strategy and cause.

Our Structure

Since launching publicly in July 2015, Cosecha has grown into a diverse, decentralized network of organizers supporting communities in over 20 states across the country. Through local "circles", Cosecha organizers work independently to advance our strategy. No one needs permission to participate in our work--the "3-activist rule" says that once 3 people decide to join Cosecha, they can form a circle and get full support from the movement. As long as they follow our basic principles and vision, circles act autonomously and make the decisions that affect their work. That way, everyone can choose to participate in actions that they are most excited about.

Our movement needs everyone--musicians, artists, dancers, creatives, mothers, daughters, workers, street-intellectuals, poets, academics, students, etc. We encourage trying new things and taking risks because the diversity of our creativity will help us find the most effective strategies, tools, and actions for the movement.

Cosecha has no paid staff, but does have a network of volunteer organizers who support the movement full-time. Volunteer organizers do not receive a salary but live in community to meet their basic needs while developing infrastructure and resources to sustain Cosecha organizing on the ground.

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Cosecha is a nonviolent movement fighting for permanent protection, dignity, and respect for the 11 million undocumented immigrantsin the United States. Our name, "harvest" in Spanish, honors the long tradition of farmworker organizing and the present-day pain of the thousands of undocumented workers whose labor continues to feed the country.

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When I think about the word deserving, I think about how it can also be used synonymously with the word "privilege". This question poses me to critically think about how our country deems those as deserving. Typically those who are most "deserving" are natural born citizens of the U.S, English speaking by birth, white, "hard working", and those who have a "pull themselves up by their bootstraps" mentality.

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For me, I immediately think of the term "deserving" as those who are fighting to climb out of their position/standing and are working towards greater means. An example is a man who lost his job but immediately starts looking for jobs in any area just to secure money for his children. He wants to work and people would look at him as deserving of their help. Other than that, society usually addresses the deserving as natural born citizens who have "first dibs" on government aid and government assistance when they need it.

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Conversely, the individuals who are most often deemed as "undeserving" are Black, Brown and other People of Color, non-English speaking, are not natural born citizens, and can't "pull themselves up by their bootstraps". These individuals have been "othered" and deemed undeserving by American culture for the entirety of it's history. Because of my interest in working with those who have a criminal record, this question made me think of how these individuals are typically deemed as undeserving of human rights or equity under the law because of the crimes they committed (or were accused of committing...). In reading my classmates comments above, I am seeing other groups that I didn't mention who are also deemed as underserving (ex. those who utilize government assistance, unemployed, uneducated, etc.). Thank you all for your input, I enjoyed reading everyones ideas, comments, and perspectives.

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Conversely, my first example of a specific scenario that people who say is undeserving is a non-working able bodied person who has all of the means to work but do not want to. I also hear it correlate with immigrants (illegal or not) because they were not born in this country so they cannot benefit for social assistance or government aid. Basically, it's those groups that the majority of society sees as non-contributing or "outsider".

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Those re-entering society after prison are often seen as undeserving. Supporting this targeted community can benefit access to resources

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Racial Equity Tools is designed to support individuals and groups working to achieve racial equity. This site offers tools, research, tips, curricula and ideas for people who want to increase their own understanding and to help those working toward justice at every level – in systems, organizations, communities and the culture at large.

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Racial Equity Tools is designed to support individuals and groups working to achieve racial equity. This site offers tools, research, tips, curricula and ideas for people who want to increase their own understanding and to help those working toward justice at every level - in systems, organizations, communities and the culture at large.

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Racial Equity Tools is designed to support individuals and groups working to achieve racial equity. This site offers tools, research, tips, curricula and ideas for people who want to increase their own understanding and to help those working toward justice at every level - in systems, organizations, communities and the culture at large.

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Society sees deserving people as people who they deem to work hard, in fields they find valuable. People who are doctors, lawyers, engineers, etc. They view people who live in the United States as deserving.

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Quite frankly, people who work jobs deemed essential right now are non deserving usually. People who work  jobs that are seen a non skilled. People who commit crimes as a person of color are deemed undeserving. People are defending the death of Floyd by saying he was a criminal. So I think its evident that people believe that white people are more deserving regardless of circumstance.

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There is this notion in America of the "deserving" person. I think that many of Americans are raised a certain way that speaks on what makes someone deserving. This person is usually described as a hard worker, someone who knows what needs to get done, someone who takes responsibility for their actions when things get messed up or go the wrong way. It seems as though the people that are not necessarily the ones that need the help more than often are the ones that are viewed as deserving.

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This opposite notion of the "undeserving" person also comes from the same upbringing and teachings that are brought on by parents or guardians. There is a feeling of pity that gets placed on the undeserving person. The undeserving person is classified as such because they cannot get on their feet without any assistance, there is a sense that the undeserving person always blames someone or something else for the problems that are going on. Sometimes there is a teaching that undeserving people are the ones that expect to be helped the most, and that is what makes them undeserving.