Let’s Talk Race

An Open Salon blogger's riveting piece on growing up black on the Southside of Chicago really got my wheels turning. In her post, Raised on Racism: A Survival Story, Keka described how the blatant and pervasive racism, as practiced there in the mid-20^th century, shaped her very existence. It just so happens that she also described my reality, with a few variations – I am a few years older than she is, and I grew up in one of Chicago's western suburbs. And, as I have revealed in earlier posts, I saw all sides of the *race problem* up close and personal, because my family is black, white and Native American. That didn't matter, though, because I look, well, not white. Most black people know I'm black by looking at me, but many non-blacks have to ask.

Keka's piece was dead on, but with no overtones of judgment against those responsible for the constant danger we were in every day of our lives. It was what it was. It got me to thinking about a question that crops up occasionally in the press, a question that I have even tried to answer from my unusual perspective: why is it so hard for white people to have a discussion with black people about race? I have never succeeded, though.

There was a time in corporate America when cultural diversity was the topic of the day. Human Resources departments were compelled to hire diversity experts to conduct formal training programs to help employees understand, cultural differences, yes; but more importantly, they believed, cultural intersections. Can't we all just get along? The powers that be were required to believe we could, and they were throwing time and money at the effort left and right.

I am not aware of one such class at my company that didn't end with a black employee screaming wildly at some white co-worker because he or she said something insensitive, broke the unwritten laws of discourse with a black person. There were reports of pushing and shoving, veiled and not-so-veiled threats, and tears – lots of tears. Other skirmishes erupted when a white employee would inevitably take offense at what was perceived as being blamed for the sins of the forefathers. Same result.

After a while, white employees started refusing to attend the seminars. And that pissed off the black employees no end. Some were jeering, calling whites wusses (and much worse). Stereotypes that were once only whispered in homogeneous company were being hurled, loudly, from both sides.

When I get into conversations about race in America with my friends of all racial, social and sexual persuasions, one of my closest white friends becomes visibly agitated and usually flees, mumbling some excuse about being sleepy or hungry or late. She will do just about anything to avoid being labeled a racist, and she is afraid that her mouth will write a check her ass can't cash. (A little 'hood talk, for effect. ~snerk~) She doesn't trust even me enough to speak her true feelings and observations without fear of "saying the wrong thing."

So, tell me. Is it possible to have an honest exchange of points of view, of feelings and beliefs between white and black Americans without all hell breaking loose? Under what circumstances would that be possible?