Talking about race, or more pointedly, racism is hard. As is talking about...well, a lot of things. The race narrative, at least in my experience, has continued to be told by the dominant culture. I still struggle with the right words because when I am still trying to dissemble what I was taught which was to not talk about it. At least not too much. At least not directly. By not talking about it, it meant I could say, "I don't see color", "I'm not racist" or the like even if I was not really sure what I meant. Several years ago I read an article that remarked that in many white families race is rarely discussed. This was in contrast with families of other races. At least according to that particular piece. When there is a vacuum, we fill the void. By not discussing race, a social construct certainly but a very powerful one, the topic becomes taboo and the void is filled. Taboo makes us uncomfortable and defensive in our discomfort. More so with race because many don't even acknowledge the taboo exists. So, we talk about race in our house. A couple of weeks ago, I took my daughter to seeI'm Not Racist, Am I? which, in case you're wondering, I highly recommend. The most important conversation I had after the film was the one with my middle school aged daughter in the car ride home as we struggled with the idea of white privilege, whether all whites were racists along with elusive nature of whiteness. "We never define whiteness, but we tell you when you're not" ~ I'm Not Racist, Am I? There they were on our ride along 29 North echoing loudly from the unspoken -- my vacuums and taboos.
P.S. For a lighter approach see Avenue Q and Everyone's a Little Bit Racist
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