Fear of Saying (or Writing) the Wrong Thing

The wrong thing. There, I wrote the wrong thing. 

White family and friends, is it possible to get past the fear of saying or doing the wrong thing during this struggle for racial justice? Can we move forward and take action rather than perseverating on eggshells? 

Robin DiAngelo called White Fragility the idea that any mention of racism will cause White people, even White people who call themselves anti-racist, to become defensive, self-focused, angry, and/or deny feedback from people of color. If you haven’t heard Dr. DeAngelo speak about this concept, please watch one of her many video interviews. 

We say to ourselves, “If I am not going to be afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing, then why do so many people challenge me when I do something that is anti-racist and helps the cause? It feels like even when I try to do the right thing, I am wrong!” 

The truth is that we will get it wrong sometimes. While our intentions may be good, we may not yet have the skills, knowledge, or context to do what really needs to be done. We must take feedback, learn how to do better, and then try again. 

White people sometimes deflect feedback from others instead of addressing the substance of the feedback. This is a “I know what you are saying is correct, but couldn’t you say it in a nicer way?” Thus white people don’t have to address their attitudes and choices because the feedback wasn’t presented in a pretty enough box. Nope! 

“But I meant well! Don’t I get credit for that? My intentions were good. I am still learning!” Welcome to the road to hell. Intentions are intangible, but impact is real. The focus on intentions is also a deflection. The effect of our choices is the real measure of their power. No one intends to make an error. The intention is minor, the result matters. We must own those effects, regardless of our intentions. 

As we learn how to be strong, thoughtful, and reflective anti-racist proponents, we will fall down – a lot. Rather than rationalizing our mistakes and dancing around the embarrassing moments when our ignorance or racism slips out, we must take another approach. 

DiAngelo talks about asking people of color, “What would it be like if you could just give white people feedback when we showed our inevitable and often unaware racist assumptions and patterns and had us receive that feedback with grace, reflect, and seek to change our behavior? What would that be like? And I’ll never forget this man of color raising his hand and saying, ‘It would be revolutionary.’” 

Think about the power of this concept: instead of the tap dance of deflect, defend, and deny, we instead say, “Thank you, you’re right. I am going to think about this and do better next time.” Of course, saying this means nothing without real action. 

Think about the power of this kind of dialogue: focusing on the core issue, taking our ego offline, accepting and acknowledging someone else’s point of view, giving their words serious thought, and then altering our choices.  

DiAngelo is right: it might be a revolution! 

The Other Side

I’ve been thinking a great deal about “the other side.” We ask ourselves, “How can people support them? What could they be thinking? What horrible people!” This line of thinking is not helpful or healthy. It just creates distance and distaste. 

No, I am not going to follow that up with an “of course.” Discounting people’s skepticism or distrust of authority does not move any conversation forward. I always want my students to think critically and to analyze information through multiple lenses. Use of those lenses often makes discussion and argument more complex. But our time is one of complexity; simplifying these issues and attitudes got us into this trouble in the first place. 

I keep having an imaginary conversation with someone who sees politics and our country’s current situation very differently than I do. How would such a conversation go? The models online are not helpful. They are entrenchments and trolling. Changing someone’s mind online has become a sour joke. 

So one approach might be: how can we better understand each other? Can we discover places where we are in agreement? Where do we share concerns? 

What if the goal, instead of trying to convince, trap, or trump was to discover, learn, and understand. What if the whole “I am going to get you to join my party and vote differently in the next election” thing was dismissed and, instead, the goal was: can I leave with a more clear understanding of where we agree, where we disagree, and why? 

Would that help make the conversation less shrill? That is another aspect of this division. Defenses and dukes are up, ears are closed, and civility is at a premium. The entire situation reminds me of fights on the middle school playfield. 

How would such a conversation take place? We have divided ourselves into siloed echo chambers, online and off. We “unfriend” people who disagree with us or post things that make us uncomfortable. We socialize with people who either share our views or, if they do not, don’t bring up sensitive topics. We’ll talk sex, money, and religion before we talk politics. 

If such conversations were to happen, how would we keep it polite and focused on understanding? It would have to be small. You don’t have to yell if there is no crowd to yell over. The us vs. them mentality of the sports arena is less likely to develop at a table of four. We do have to keep it from developing. 

There would have to be some simple ground rules that would probably parallel the structure of negotiations or business meetings: no interrupting, use of reflective listening, focus on subjects instead of personal attacks, making sure that each contribution clearly connects to the ones before it, and so on. 

So if we got one or two Democrats and Republicans, supporters of different candidates, and sat down, would we be able to do this with some practice and assistance? 

Yeah, I am thinking that, too: so what? So we sit down and learn more about each other. Might that drive us further apart? Might that horrify us? Might that turn our neighbors into monsters? 

Perhaps. 

But perhaps it might humanize them. Perhaps it might let us understand what others value and how those values translate into political ideas and action. Perhaps it would help us relearn how to civilly disagree and encourage us to build bridges instead of moats. 

We desperately need this right now. I don’t think any political leaders have the ability or foresight to make something like this happen. Their thinking is too polar and partisan. 

So it is up to us. Can we learn about each other? Can we reach across the divide, the aisle, the difference? If we insist on playing winner take all, we lose all. If we take another approach, we could increase the odds of all of us winning. 

Do we really want more of this? Are we willing to stop yelling at our televisions and start talking to each other? 

It turns out that there are organizations working to do this! Recently, a friend emailed me about the American Exchange Program, which puts students from different backgrounds, areas of the country, and points of view in touch with each other. This story from the PBS News Hour provides several other groups who connect adults. 

I encourage you to view the news story (it is also embedded on this page). I have read about some of these organizations. It is time to do more than bemoan the divided nature of our country. It is time to reach across the divide, aisle, and mile – and begin to really unify our country again. 

Learning Is Not Possible Without Mistakes: Being Wrong

No one likes to be wrong. Mistakes are not our goal. However, without mistakes, without being wrong, we don’t grow. Learning is a messy business and mistakes are a critical part of the process.

I was introduced to this video though a magnificent blog post by a teacher from Colorado. She uses this video after the election as a way to open students to the process of disagreeing, listening, and being open to change.

Take a look:

College Advice from Shakespeare and Me

In the weeks (alright, months) before my son’s departure for college, I found myself giving him bits of advice. I am not the only one. It was as if everyone had the need to pack his bags.

Some of us know what we’re talking about. Some of us are out of date. Some of us are spouting platitudes and clichés. Some of us are telling him what he already knows. Then there is the question of whether this kind of advice is useful at all.

In Shakespeare’s Hamlet, we also have college advice. Polonius, the king’s most trusted advisor, delivers a long speech of advice to his son, Laertes. While some of the advice seems reasonable and even classic, there is an issue with this scene. Polonius is a problematic character. He is closely allied with the villain of the play. He likes to spy on the younger people. He even sends a servant to secretly watch over his son while he is at school! Even his son, prior to hearing the advice, is disappointed that he didn’t leave before his father had a chance to talk to him again. Polonius is sometimes called a melding windbag.

Like the advice my son has received, much of what Polonius tells his son is common sense. In fact, much of it was trite even in Shakespeare’s time. Does that mean that the advice is less worthy? Polonius is a problematic character whom Hamlet despises. Do the words change their meaning when they come from such a person?

I do not want to be Polonius. I don’t want my child to roll his eyes when I give him advice about college. Which leads us to the question of the worth of unsought advice. Sometimes we don’t know what we don’t know. I can think of several examples where someone has guided me without my request and it has been critically important.

So how do we help our children navigate college without becoming intrusive meddlers or long-winded old fools? Can we share some important wisdom without the eye rolls?

Polonius starts his speech by giving his son his “blessing” (Hamlet 1.3.56) and that may be a good start. Framing our advice as a form of sharing our love and not an attempt to maintain our control may open the listening door a little crack.

One of Polonius’s first pieces of advice is “give thy thoughts no tongue,/Nor any unproportioned thought his act” (Hamlet 1.3.58-59). Listening first is a good idea. In college, students encounter new people with backgrounds different than their own. Their prejudices cannot help but show. Telling our children to slow down and think as they listen is a skill with which I continue to struggle. Listen, then think, then think again and only then speak. This is the best way to prevent athlete’s tongue.

Relationships are key in college. Learning to build bonds and reach out to peers, professors, and others is what may make or break a college experience. Polonius notes this, too:  “Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,/ Grapple them unto thy soul with hoops of steel” (Hamlet 1.3.61-62). Yes, reach out to your roommate, kids on your floor and in your classes and activities. Go further; connect to your professors, grad students, advisors, and those all important administrative assistants, administrators, RAs, and people behind desks or counters. Treat people well and take care of them!

Polonius says, in his own way, that clothes make the man  (Hamlet 1.3.71). I am not sure I agree that our kids need to focus on what they wear that much. However, I am sending my son to a university that is often called J Crew U.

Many of us have tried to find borrowed items or to get someone to pay back a loan. Polonius’s platitude of, “Neither a borrower nor a lender be” (Hamlet 1.3.74) may be common sense, but that doesn’t diminish its truth.

Polonius does not tell Laertes to be a self-starter. He doesn’t tell him to be proactive and make things happen, rather than passively waiting for them to occur. That was one of my most important pieces of advice to my children.

Laertes was an aristocrat and probably wasn’t real concerned about his grades. I want my children to read the syllabus and put the deadlines in their calendars and then pay attention to them!

Eating well, being able to do laundry and basic cleaning, managing time and money seem like the topics that will elicit those eye rolls. I couldn’t help myself. The Polonius in me made me include them here.

Polonius’s most famous piece of advice, and one of Shakespeare’s most often cited quotations is, “This above all: to thine own self be true, /And it must follow, as the night the day, /Thou canst not then be false to any man” (Hamlet 1.3.77-79). What does this mean to eighteen-year-olds? Do they know themselves this well? Can they be true to shifting values, desires, and majors? They try on personas like clothing (Oh, now I get it). That may be one of the most important tasks in college: to figure out who you are, what you love, how you learn, and how to make your way in the world independently.

 

Perhaps that means finding other sources of advice. Cultivating a support network of people whose advice you trust is invaluable at any age. Give those trusted people permission to tap you on the shoulder and say the things that must be said. Be that kind of person for others. Have a set of people, both peers and others, who will reach over and give you a hand when you have fallen – even if you don’t know you have fallen.

And, of course, call or text or email home. Your parents miss you. Call your father. Often.  

  

Work Cited:
Shakespeare, William. Hamlet. Ed. Ann Thompson and Neil Taylor. London: Arden Shakespeare, 2006. Print.

The Tale Tapes Turn Ten

It was often the worst of times. Charles Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities was the bear of Freshman English. Kids struggled. I struggled. It was long, complex, dense, and difficult.

In the winter of 2006, I had been teaching the novel for more than a decade. I had developed techniques that helped students understand and even come to love this very challenging novel. I always started on the second chapter and saved that famous opening for after they got to know Lucie, her father, Jarvis Lorry, and Miss Pross (but had not yet met Charles or Sydney). Breaking the plot into it smaller bite sized pieces made the story easier to follow. I enlarged the pages and put them on butcher-block paper so that we could reread together and share our annotations. It was work, but it worked.

The most important strategy was reading aloud. When we read together, we could ask questions, make connections, and use both our eyes and our ears. The lights went on the most when I read aloud and stopped every few sentences to explore and explain.

However, if we did this with the entire book, second semester would end in late July. The book was too long to read aloud in its entirety. So I chose carefully. I picked the most confusing chapters to read together. But it wasn’t enough.

When I finished my grades for first semester in the winter of 2006, I tried an experiment. I sat in front of my computer and began to record Dickens’ classic and include the type of comments and guidance that I used when we read aloud in class. I called these audio annotations.

If I had known the scale of this experiment then, I would have given up immediately. Since then, I have considered recording some of Shakespeare’s plays, Frankenstein, and a few other texts and never been able to climb that mountain again. I don’t know if I ever will. My ignorance of the scale of this project made it possible.

Two months before my students would even purchase the book, I sat in front of my computer, picked up a microphone, and started reading and explaining. I recorded the audio in iMovie because I didn’t know how to use anything else. I then converted it to mp3 format using a different program.  Many times I had to rerecord parts when the phone rang, I messed up, or one of my children can running into the room. It took a long time.

I would record when I had free time at home. Often, this was when my children were sleeping or otherwise occupied. After listening to the Tale recordings, my students always ask if someone in my house plays the clarinet. No, I told them, that was a beginning violinist! Others asked why I was typing as I talked. That wasn’t me, I tell them. My child was doing homework on the computer behind me. I took advantage of whatever free time I had.

By the time my students started reading Tale in late March, I had recorded the entire first book and half of the second book. I was stunned at how listening to my recordings changed their understanding. The conversations and activities in class were of a totally different nature than they had been before. Students came in feeling confident. They had a much more clear comprehension of the plot, characters, and even some of the complexities of the text. It was amazing and transformative. And the recordings were still not completed!

I was struggling to keep up. By the time we were at the end of the second book, I was only a few days ahead of my students’ reading schedule. In one of my regular meetings with my department chair, I told her that I would stop my recordings at the end of the second book and let them read the final book without me.

“You can’t do that, “ she told me. “You are training readers. Your recordings are helping them to practice the skills that strong readers use.” So I kept on recording until I had completed the entire book. When it  was all in the can (so to speak), there were almost eighteen hours of recorded Tale teaching.

Something else shocked and surprised me. Students shared the recordings with their friends. Suddenly, students who were not in my class were listening to me. I remember walking down the hall and seeing a student wearing earphones point to his ears and then point to me! It was a little unnerving.

Eventually, the entire Freshman English team embraced the recordings. They became a primary way that we helped students navigate this most challenging work of literature. Students I did not know talked to me about them in the halls. Parents (including my colleagues) joked about hearing my voice coming out of their children’s bedrooms! This year’s class is the eleventh group to use the recordings.

Reading together is powerful. Reading and exploring literature together is even more so.

At the end of this month, my freshmen will ride up Shooter's Hill with Jarvis Lorry and Jerry Cruncher. They will put on their headphones and, instead of pop music or game sounds, they will hear a discussion of British literature. Ten years later, these recordings still work wonders! Recording Tale was a far far better thing than I have ever done. It is far better teaching technique than I have ever known.

Eight Rules to Prevent Public Self-Stimulation

It must have been an interesting sight; from the performer’s point of view, the three people at the back of the recital hall were looking at their laps, making small movements with their arms and hands, and periodically smiling and sighing. What might they be doing?

If you are thinking what you might be thinking, you aren’t far from correct. Although it would not get them arrested, they were involved in the new socially acceptable form of self-stimulation: use of their smart phones.

I was sitting next to them. While every singer in the recital may not have ready for Orchestra Hall, none deserved to be upstaged by texting, solitaire, or Facebook. And while they may have only been there to watch one performer, when that child was done, the polite and respectful thing to do would be to quietly listen to other singers. Their act was not as egregious as public masturbation, but it was inappropriate and rude nonetheless.

Smart phones are ubiquitous. Despite the constant reminders to turn them off, they ring in cinemas, theaters, religious services, and other inappropriate places. Worse, people use them in ways that are distracting, disrespectful, and dangerous. Why do they do this? Why can’t we keep our hands off our phones?

I am a gadget guy. I like electronic toys. I understand how much fun it is to have a new phone and explore the new tools it presents. However, smart phone novelty does not seem to wear off for some people. The rude use of smart phones is not about the gee-whiz factor.

Blackberries were called crackberries because their users became addicted to them. Is that what is happening? Do we feel compelled to check our emails, text messages, Facebook posts, and fantasy sports leagues? Do we start to sweat and shake if we aren’t connected to the people who aren’t physically in front of us? Do we worry that our clients or followers will leave us if we don’t reply to them immediately? While some people may have jobs that require constant communication, I do not think that staying in touch is the key cause either.

Frequently, I see children with smart phones or tablets in restaurants. Their parents often have them out while pushing the kiddies in the strollers. They are all over subway trains. Why do we feel the need to finger our devices or give them to our children?

Many of us are building up a tolerance for real world engagement. The actual physically present world is not enough. It does not provide us with the gratification and entertainment that our electronics do when we jack in.

Our public use of smart phones and other electronics is a sign that people no longer find adequate stimulation in the environment around them. The movie (even if it is on a huge IMAX screen) is not entertaining enough. We must text. The dinner, lecture, service, or conversation pales in comparison to Candy Crush.

What do we do about this? We could increase the razzle-dazzle of day-to-day life. We could have video cells on our clothing; we could play music from our shoes and project engaging images from our bow ties. We could amp up the real world so it competes more favorably with the little screen in our laps.

Or we could exercise self-control. After all, we don’t have people masturbating or having sex in public even though that would be more “interesting” than boring old mundane life.

So here are eight suggestions for polite and appropriate use of smart phones:

1. Do not use smart phones when there are people physically present: interact with them.

2. Do not check email, texts, or other forms of communication in public. Move to a private area and wash your hands afterward.

3. Keep your phone on silent when you are with other people. Set your default ringtone to silent and only assign ring tones to people whose calls would be important enough to answer right away.

4. No phones on the table. A phone on the table means you are waiting to use it. When we are eating or meeting, phones should be out of sight and hearing!

5. Never let your electronics come between you and an interpersonal interaction. Would you like someone to step between you and the person with whom you were talking? That would be rude! Don’t let your phone do that either. Why is the phone more important than a live person in front of you?

6. Be considerate about how your use of electronics may affect others around you. While you may feel alone in the theater, your texting is distracting to the other members of the audience.

7. Pledge to never touch your phone while you are the driver in a car. Insist the same of anyone driving a car in which you are riding. Reinforce this rule with young drivers.

8. Talk about cell phone use when it comes up. Ask the person who has whipped out his phone, “Why do you think people are constantly on their phones?” While this may seem difficult and even rude, is it as rude as the act of letting the phone interrupt the conversation? Perhaps the person on the phone’s child is ill, or his parent is in the hospital. That provides an opportunity for real human interaction. If he is just checking the Cubs score, it says that you were just too boring. You need to know that. So does he.

Let’s think about why we feel compelled to use our phones. Let’s critically examine how phones are affecting our relationships and our public environments. Let’s reassess our need for stimulation. And let’s reconnect to each other, and bring back a sense of public responsibility, decency, and discourse.

Let's Talk Politics

It is uncomfortable to discuss the Presidential election with some of my friends. It is a sore subject. On Facebook, there is both serious and lighthearted commentary about political postings. It used to be that money, sex, and religion were the topics that polite people avoided. Now there is a fourth and it is not a good thing.

Party politics has come to resemble religion. Although I would never consider myself a person of “faith,” I am highly religious. But I do not see any politician as a god figure or any party as a church. These are human beings and human created institutions that, as far as I know, have not received the seal of approval from any deity. Yet our political discourse sounds like battling missionaries!

Why do I feel uncomfortable and awkward when the election is mentioned in certain company? Why do people sometimes preface their statements with, “Well, I’m sure you’ll disagree but…” when caution is thrown to the political wind and we briefly and painfully open the subject, only to be reminded by our spouses and friends that “we agreed not to talk about this!”

Why can’t we talk politics? Why is it friendship ending? Why do blood pressures and voices end up raised beyond a healthy level? What is going on here? I wrote last year about my concern that dialogue was dying in our government. Now I am concerned that it is dying around dinner tables and water coolers.

And the old excuse of, “You’re not going to change anyone’s mind anyway” is the fashionable rationalization. Instead of “ conversion,”  could we engage in a conversation that both brings us together and gives us greater understanding? It could be a positive process.

Let’s talk politics. Let’s talk about important issues that affect our families, communities, and nation! Let’s listen to each other. I am suggesting discussion and exploration not debate!

I don’t know everything. I don’t read all the news or follow all the fact checkers and pundits. I pick and choose. Bias from news sources is inevitable. I don’t believe anyone who says that, “the choice is obvious” because if that were true, I could talk about this issue with everyone and we’d all hug and smile. The issues aren’t simple, easy, or clear. And they certainly aren’t black and white. Oversimplifications do not foster good decisions and may be an unethical attempt at persuasion.

And we must have an ethical discussion: one in which we look at issues as fairly and factually as possible.  Can we do it with a computer nearby so we can look things up as we go along? Can we evaluate the information sources together?

It won’t be easy and it won’t be fast. Could that be the real reason we won’t talk? Is it we don’t want to take the time and energy such dialogue will require? We know we’re right and those idiots are wrong, so why waste the effort? Another rationalization that only keeps us apart and in the dark.

The more we refuse to talk to our friends, neighbors, and even family about these areas of disagreement, the wider the chasm grows and the more license we give politicians to do the same. I want progress in Washington! I want members of both parties to talk to each other and create solutions together! I don’t want a one party system! I don’t want a bully system that stomps out its opposition. Minority voices, be they the minority party, minority viewpoints, or minority groups are critical to