Sunday, July 26, 2009

Beneficent doesn't mean unbiased; Bias doesn't mean bigot

Assalamu Alaikum,

Funny thing about words. Words can do so much. As kids my siblings and I learned that old chant early: 'Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me.'
Untrue, untrue, my now-self calls back to my childhood. I've forgotten most of the scrapes, cuts, bruises I've had, but I clearly remember words and conversations from when I was three years old. And now the potential energy of words is coming to the face of the consciousness of my community and our country.

So the other night, I stayed up until about 4 AM discussing just such an instance of hurtful words. And during the conversation, my words were twisted, biased generalizations were drawn based on another's perception of who I am, and of course I heard my entire race- and then all of the males in my race- maligned and denigrated. I was told that my viewpoint was hurtful, that I insinuated that another person was racist, that I assumed that anyone against me must be racist- but that another's viewpoint was righteous and of course based in reality.

You could say I had a normal day that lasted into the wee hours, really.

I want to get back to that conversation in a moment. By now, since President Obama so graciously used his valuable time and remarked upon it not once but twice, nearly everyone has heard about the incident of Professor Henry Louis Gates' arrest by Seargeant James Crowley. It has been the topic of direct and indirect discussion around the country for nearly a week, now.

I normally don't watch TV at all, but was perusing various reactions and saw this (yes, I know, CNN. Better for domestic racial commentary than the BBC and other international news.)

Tim Wise makes an excellent point:

Is it possible that Sgt. Crowley, though he is not by all appearances a bigot in any sense of the word, may have perceived Prof Gates’ behavior as more belligerent than he would have, had this been a white person?...

...White folks whether they’re cops or just average citizens, will oftentimes view the behavior of black people as more negative, more dangerous, more aggressive even more criminal than they would the very same behavior engaged in by a white person. And they don’t do that because they’re bigots or racist or bad people, and they do that because of what are called implicit biases, they don’t make us bad, but they happen. ~ Tim Wise, author of ‘White Like Me’

I think for the most part Mr. Wise hit the target. What I did not hear him say, is that Black folk have biases, too. Everyone has biases.

I have to say that I knew of Professor Gates before the incident, and in my mind he was (and is, really), one of those 'Famous Black Americans'. Ar-um... how do I explain that? When I was a child, my parents and community really worked to instill a sense of foundation that was based on examples of education, determination, and pride from among Black America. I grew up in the '80s and then the '90s, so I really caught the tail end of being raised 'Black and Proud' in the arms of the survivors and the heroes and the children of the 1950's-60's civil rights movement. I have grown into an adult who knows how very very crucial that foundation was.

So I knew about Dr. Gates who was a great social scientist and researcher, and I heard about the news that he taught at Harvard (though to tell the truth, Dr. Cornell West is more famous in my perception), and I was delighted when I returned to DC from PR (so this would've been 2005 or 2006) to catch the first installment of African American Lives on PBS. I knew that man, and I loved that series. (The second series was just as good. Yes, he had Soledad O'Brien beat before she got started, in my opinion.) So yes, I was astounded to hear about the arrest... and at the same time, yes, part of me was about the least surprised person on earth. You see, I knew that Professor Gates is smart and acccomplished; but I knew he is Black as well.
Reference Tim Wise's quote above.

I know all about inherent biases. Believe me, knowing about inherent bias was a theme wherever grownups were from the time I was still young enough to keep my hand grasped in my mother's skirts (she didn't wear pants until I was twelve), still young enough to peek at my father's spades hand from his lap, not old enough to ask questions and be told to stay out of grown folks' bidness. Inherent bias didn't take that term, though. The theme instead was, 'We have to do twice as much to get half the recognition', or 'Got to walk on water; and still these folks will wonder why you don't make yourself a boat'.

As we grew older my mother would go on and on about the importance of being well-groomed and neat. "You're already taller and more noticeable"- meaning because of our chocolate skin- "so you need to look nicer and be more courteous than most". Heh, but she refused to (and probably couldn't afford to, now that I think on it) buy the Donna Karan, the Coach, the Guess, the Jordans to make us fit in- a clean appearance was what counted... sigh. That was my childhood. Then I became an adult, sat with the grown folks, and listened to my aunts and my grandfather trade stories of how "these white folks" would look for any way to get 'us' out of our own success stories. How paper trails are essential, how evidence is crucial; how the least offence can and will be magnified against you. 'Don't forget, you're smart, you're beautiful, and you're still Black', ran the advice of my elders. And then I had a couple of jobs where I found out the truths behind the family lore for myself.

That's not a story for today. Point is, the guests in the video are educating the uninitiated in something that is not a small fact of minority life (and certainly my life) in this country and heck, in this world. Most people act upon their biases; and if you're on the negative/minority/less empowered side of a bias you will see, eventually, those actions based on bias affect you negatively. You can work hard and avoid most of the craziness, but you will see those biases come out against you. Like it or not. The End.

Because I know all about inherent biases, and because of the frequency of their being acted out in the actions and perceptions of those around me, I become less outraged when I recognize them, and less invested in actively correcting the subtle biases. As my Aunt C would say: "I don't have the time." I see this kind of mess all the time, and it's tiring enough just to ignore the subtle bovine scatulation in my way, and stay about my own business. You train the children in your village accordingly, if you have the foundation I do, suck it up and do better than your best, and leave the rest to God.

Until you need to have the conversations that last all night, as I did the other night.
I overheard a friend of mine, a prospective taxi driver, say into his cell phone, "yeah, and I might have to leave Black people", in the context of his conversation, as if to say he wouldn't be picking up Black people. He didn't qualify the statement, didn't say scary looking Black people or thugs, or black and white crazies. He said what he said.

To be frank, I was stung. I was at the house of a very dear friend, and to hear him say that... took me out of my context, where I was comfortable, and into one where I was in a room with someone with those negative inherent biases who had no problem with putting them into play even though I was in his line of sight. Also, the man in question is a brown-skinned minority himself. So yeah, to have him say that pretty much in my face, if not to me, hurt. It was a very 'what the heck?' moment.

We were lucky to have just gone through Maidan's workshop on 'The Art of Prophetic Communication', so those things were fresh in our minds... yes, we used the concepts, especially those of considering the audience and how THEY hear our words.

What followed was an excellent example of what the entire country is doing and thinking and how we're reacting. Because what I said, when he was off the phone, was that for him to not pick up a Black person for the fact that they're Black, was racist. I immediately clarified- not that I thought HE was racist as a person, but that he needed to face the fact that what he said was racist, and that to take that particular action with no other basis, was wrong.

Ayyayyay. He was very hurt that I had called him racist. And he could never be a racist because people have been racist toward him. And he has Black friends! And then I had to say, no, you obviously didn't hear me say that I DON'T think you're racist. And then it became a discussion of words and how he wasn't into vocabulary. So he didn't see anything wrong with saying what he said the way he said it. And I had to sit down and explain it something like this:

Look, I told (my amiga) earlier, that I don't think I could be in the position of a cab driver for exactly that reason; that I KNOW I would have to judge people on their appearance and possibly not give them a ride again based on their appearance. I don't know that I could do that.

But I do know that I have been Black for 28 years now. And I can tell you how it feels to hear you won't pick up a black person. If it weren't for the fact that I wear hijab, I'd STILL never get a cab- I'm bigger and darker than most cab drivers like. And as the lone black person in the room, I have to say that I know that I'm more likely to be the victim of a crime committed by another black person than anyone else here. So yes, I even understand using race as one factor when you look at someone and ask yourself if they're a threat to your safety. I would never ever say that you should do anything against your own safety. You must look out for your safety first and always, and I recognize that.
I also recognize that we must all do that, and we use stereotypes to do so. That's not my problem here.

My issue comes when you don't realize that what you are doing involves racism, and that it's a racist act. One lie does not a liar make; but it's still problematic when a person cannot look at an untruth they've told and know that they told a lie.

AND, when you say for example, that "It's black people's fault that I have to think like that, they've put themselves in that position", first, you're generalizing, and second, you've got your facts incorrect. For you to say that your perception of black people and your acting upon it is the fault of millions of people who don't even know you exist, is racist. Having black friends, black babies, what have you doesn't make what you said any less racist. And when you say it, you're sitting here looking at my skin!

You said, 'It's Black people's fault,' you said, 'Black people put themselves in that position.' But you tell me that it's not the case for me. That's offensive, because my skin is still Black, and I am a part of that group about whom you speak. My skin color didn't change in the last five seconds. If you said 'Black dudes', then okay, great, you exclude me from your racism, but you included my brother and my father. And if you would exclude us, then I'd ask you to stop generalizing based on your stereotypes. And don't delude yourself that what you're doing isn't racist. You have to care about your safety, you have to look out for number one first. But don't tell yourself that just because you're being safe, or even if it is necessary, that you're not doing something that is racist. It is.

You don't have to listen to me, and you don't have to care what I think of you. Because beyond this moment, I don't care- you may very well never see me again, ever. But, I would ask you to take this conversation as a tool and USE your words better. You never know when what we're saying can help you. Because, yeah, I don't think you're a racist person. I also don't want you to believe that because you mean well or don't mean ill, that how you say things doesn't count. It does. And it will. And anything good I have said isn't from me. And if you have taken anything bad from what I have said, it is from me, please accept my sincerest apologies.

I was exhausted at the end of that conversation, but it was so very necessary.

If life were fair, after that very exhausting conversation, I'd've had a Racism-free Day card or something, but alas. I think it was on Racism 101 on the Resist Racism blog that someone said that people of color literally experience racism daily, and that we let 95% of what happens, we let it go.

So then the next day, I had to explain to one of my fellow students in the Fawa.kih program (we had just completed mid-term evaluations of the program) why it is that I was angry, and why it was that it seemed inherently unfair that I should have to go see the teacher after class, and take advantage of the study time, instead of the other way around. Why it was that a LOT of the time, I just 'shut down' and shut up instead of voicing my opinion. It's because I already know that I am bigger than most; that I'm perceived as louder than most (even when I'm not; I do have a trained voice, won't lie), that I'm darker than most. In the USA, in any given situation, someone is more likely than not to already have some perception of me as negative; as a threat, or a danger, or aggressive, or unintelligent. That last hurts me most because I'm here to learn. And I am not a stupid woman. To be dismissed based on the craziness someone has learned to carry in their heads is insane, and if you see me as vocal, understand that I automatically don't say half of what I could and would and ought.

That's my life.

This is a really long post. It's been a while coming, and I may have something to say later. Comments are open and I welcome your thoughts.


Friday, July 24, 2009

And then life got bizz-ayy

assalamu alaikum,

Okay, so the Fawak.ih Intensive has been making life super busy. I'm staying at the home of my most gracious friend, and that has really made it easy. I realized- between Nene's wedding, ISNA/Independence Day in DC, and now this, I haven't been home more than 3 days at a time this summer since the last week in June. I'm cherishing it, too. I think the reason I put up with being a teacher in part is the long summers, my best season, in which to spend my time as I please.

So this summer for one month I've chosen to spend my time learning Arabic in the intensive program. I'm beginning to think that programs like this may not be for me, though. Or, I have to reconfigure how I do them. Since I'm staying with my amiga, who lives in the city but nearly an hour away, we miss a lot just in transportation time. Nearly 2 hours each day goes to riding back and forth on the highway- and of course, it's construction season, so that can suddenly be longer in a flash. If I really wanted to study, I'd see about getting a room in the hotel in front of the institute. However, last year I stayed there and got VERY ill- and a lot of the women staying there are getting sick this time- so I'll take a few missed days/hours and inshaAllah stay healthy.

I love the course. I love languages (BAM and The Muslimah can attest), and though learning this one isn't a cakewalk, it's still a worthwhile pursuit. Of course, I made the intention to learn fisabilillah before I went to the program. Which is good, because this is coming with some tests!

First thing is jobs. Alhamdulillah, I still have a job after what I wouldn't call an excellent year, last year. But. I left the school year extremely frustrated with the school, administration, the way things were left previously... etc. In other words, I was ready for a break. I didn't actually stop working until the last week of June, well after the other teachers left, because I was dealing with a mess that the teachers previously had left, but one that I hadn't taken the time to organize.

Annnnnd... so of course I get calls this week and it stresses me out. I'm glad to be moving to a new position (older kids, in an area where I have more experience, inshaAllah) in the school, and I know that even having a job is a blessing right about now. But OMG. My blood pressure and heart rate are jacked just thinking about it. I need a different job, yo. This is my last year.

Then? Of course, it just so happens that my celebrity crush is one of the lecturers at the Fawa.kih program. I don't know how much I need to say about that. But um, yeah. Glad my skin isn't pale, because I surely was flushed and flustered half the time. That was a nice feeling, though...ah, I don't know how to explain it.

My friend and I came up with a new joke, though: Como es que se baje la vista de un hombre bajo? Ask me in the comments if you don't speak Spanish/can't find a translator/don't get the joke.

And? I've sewed a couple of pairs of pants since I've been here, including one for my amiga, which came out really well. It really does give you a boost when you feel as if you are well dressed, and it's fun to be able to say to the other ladies, yes, I sewed them myself, and it's easy, and I'd be happy to show you! Such a feeling of accomplishment, mashaAllah.

So, that's the update. I'm sure there was something else I wanted to talk about, but I need to go study for an exam... Yay, Arabic!


Sunday, July 12, 2009

Twenny Ate

assalamu alaikum wa rahmatullahi wa barakatuhu,

I remember on D's last b-day I called and was teasing unmercifully about reaching 28. Teasing based on a faulty premise that I don't subscribe to; mainly that getting older is a bad thing. I have seen enough death and personal tragedy to understand that birthdays are blessings, every single one. They don't have the guarantee that death and entropy do.

Ah, and now it's my turn to reflect on 27.

The other day I was in Rochester, NY for my friend Nene's wedding, which was beautiful, and a lot of fun. I think because I was in a crowd of Black and Latino folk (she's black, he's portareecan) I thought back to my college days. I wouldn't take nothing for my journey, but I still feel the love of the people and culture I met during those days.

My work this year wore me down, but I learned a lot of lessons, mainly that I need to do what I want to do when I want it, based on my own values. You'd think that a 27 year old woman would get that, but ah, the lesson needs drilling. Apparently. I love the children, am grateful to be working with little muslims, but now I know that this is my hatching ground, and that I'm due to fly from it sooner rather than later.

I learned that my body? Is mashaAllah amazing. I finished a half-marathon. I finished slowly. But I finished. I also learned that diabetes is stalking me regardless of all that training... and I'm taking care of myself more. I learned that food isn't my best friend, since I already knew it wasn't my enemy.

I learned that I'm a pig for some love. Family, students, friends- I need affection in doses that others would find smothering. I'm learning to be okay with that.

I remembered skills and joys I had forgotten. I think I'm going to get sick of my gauchos after a while, but the satisfaction of making them with my own hands was wonderful. I can still make killer salted oatmeal cookies, even if I have to eat one and give the rest away. And nothing will ever compare to a long drive in the country and woods at the end of a warm day.

I finally realised that even though I am a child of an age of entitlement, I can make my own dreams come true best when I am serving others. I am happy when I learn that a small advice I lent helped another sister find happiness and some self-reflection. I need to lean on other shoulders. I need to be needed.

Procrastination might be natural, but Allah swt has given us all tools to work against the worst of our natures- and with the best of it. Still up to me to grasp the tools and get to work, though. And now I know that organization isn't just a luxury, but for me it's something worth the battles with myself. I realised that to love the examples in my deen and to increase my iman and to love the nabi I follow is not shameful, but it's okay.

Companionship, true companionship, is something I pray for; thank God for my friends, the true-blue homies, the ones who are in the mud and the glory with me.

Twenty-seven is a wrap. Alhamdulillah, let the games of twenny eight begin.

Twenny Two

Tuesday, July 07, 2009

I know dua'a is always answered.

Assalamu Alaikum,

Well, so ISNA was a blast. I loved being back in my old stomping grounds in DC. I didn't stay at the convention hotels (which was a mistake in that I wasn't immersed in the ISNA atmosphere, but which was also great because I wasn't immersed in the ISNA atmosphere and was in my DC 'home' instead), and I missed like half of the lectures and everything. The few lectures I did get into, though, hit me at the right moment with the right message. The psychologist who was a main speaker at the MSA session, 'Fighting Depression with the Light of God'. Imam Khalid Latif (I'm sure I've misspelled that, forgive me), who spoke on singlehood and the questions of a single believer and how we live that life with the words that were so right-on that I started to cry. Tears just ran down my face.

Alhamdulillah. It was the answer to a prayer.

I came very close to doing some things that I really WANTED to do, even though I knew they were things I oughtn't do. And so, because I knew that I was open and vulnerable, that I was tempted to that 'just do it' attitude, I prayed. Y'all, I prayed long and hard. I made sincere dua'a with faith that it would be answered. And above all was the fervent desire to be protected from doing what Allah does not will for me, and that my dua'a be heard and clearly answered.

Every time I go to ISNA or a similar event, I'm reminded of both my similarities and my differences. I cover, but my dress isn't modern fashionista or Arab or Desi in origin. I'm a young convert, but this is my tenth year as a Muslim (can I get an alhamdulillah?)/. I speak Spanish... but not quite so good at the Arabic, and my Urdu is practically nonexistent.

But I know. I believe. I Believe. I have been given the gift and the blessing of faith. I have been able to pray my way to obedience and to independence. Dua'a is truly my weapon, and it has ALWAYS been answered. It is the most precious blessing I have, to see the will of Allah subhanahu wa ta'ala worked in my life through my family and friends and even just occurrences that might look, from the outside, like random. I know.