A Reflection on Reflections

After my last post, I've been wondering: Am I really racist? Do I patronize racist slurs cloaked in the guise of stand-up comedy? Am I so insensitive that I try to find excuses for my own bigotry? I spent a few hours yesterday entertaining myself: I laughed at what Mencia said, about Whites being illogical, Blacks being fun, Asians being clumsy, this group being strange, that group being silly - there were many groups, many labels, and many things to laugh about. But why was I laughing?

There is a quote in Professor Rishel's e-mails that I agree with wholeheartedly (especially as laughing is looked upon with disdain in my profession back home, and I CAN'T HELP LAUGHING SOMETIMES, DARNIT!)

"If you wish to glimpse inside a human soul and get to know a man...just watch him laugh. If he laughs well, he's a good man."

Signore Fyodor got it right, I believe - and as I remembered the quote, I got the EUREKA moment that I had been waiting for.

The good thing about a multicultural education class is that everyone gets to see what hope lies for a burgeoning field - and what advances are being made in understanding and educating more and more children from more and more diverse groups. One trap that some people fall into, however, is self-defense. This can happen when members of the dominant group see the doings of their forebears, and find that their dominance was bought, and is still maintained, at a high price. As a result, and whether they are aware of it or not, some members of the dominant group will be defensive: they will claim to be experienced in working with people of diverse backgrounds; they will claim that they, too were oppressed; they will claim that they, too deserve attention.

This, I believe, would be an understandable gut reaction: no one wants to be blamed for the world's ills, and no one wants to be affiliated with the bad guys in today's supposedly enlightened world. But I believe that we constantly fall into this trap when we get carried away in talking about our experiences. It was this potentially disruptive discourse, this often annoying method of thinking and expressing oneself, that I witnessed many times in class this week. There were times when there was so much tension in class for what someone had said, that some of my classmates had supposedly gone home and let off steam. There were times when exchanges and banter began, appearing innocent, but ending with more tension on both sides. I felt as though I were treading on eggshells when I spoke in class: I could offend someone, I could lose a potential friend, I could strike a nerve even when I did not mean to. I was living in a world of tension.

My solution? I had to come home and vent by making myself laugh - and by doing it through someone who did not care about tension and treading on eggshells. I let go of the tension by sitting in my room, laughing at jokes and labels, and just letting my virtual feet heal from the eggshell-inflicted wounds.

I'm not a racist. But maybe I'm just afraid.


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On a non-significant note, my boyfriend and I celebrated our 15th month together today. Hurrah for us!