Dillon, bless his little heart, at only 8 years old had to get a root canal last week.  He had broken his tooth while playing last March, and unfortunately it had gotten infected.

But that’s not the real story.  My husband was in the room with him as the Dentist got started.  “Would you like some gas before I give you the novacaine?” he asked.  Don’t all Dentists offer that before a procedure?

“Is that the gas they used to kill the Jews?” my son, who is Jewish, asked.  Despite all reassurances otherwise, Dillon refused to let the Dentist administer the gas.

I know we’re not the only ones who have these moments.  Love Isn’t Enough is a blog devoted to ‘anti-racist parenting,’ and Stephen Caliendo talked about his experience of visiting the Lincoln Museum with his nine year old daughter, both in an edited version on Dawn Turner Trice’s blog at the Chicago Tribune, Exploring Race, and in a longer version on his own blog, This Week in Race at the raceproject.org.

Sometime’s we’re speechless because of the depth of insight from such a little person.  Sometimes we’re speechless because we’re not sure how the comment comes across to those around us.  In this case, the Dentist was the only Muslim in a practice with three other (presumably, by name) Jewish Doctors.  “Will this dentist think we are racist?” crossed my husband’s mind, as though Dillon really thought the Dentist meant to do him harm.

I imagine the context in this case is twofold:  We visited the Holocaust Museum in in Washington DC last month, and he also recently brought a book home from the library, Someone Named Eva, by Joan M. Wolf, about (per Dillon’s description, we haven’t read it yet) a blond haired, blued eye Jewish girl who gets taken from her family and adopted by a German Famly and forgets her family and that she is Jewish.

As a Jew, I felt obligated to do the former, when we were in DC.  Now, perhaps the latter, reading the book together chapter by chapter at bedtime, will give us a chance to help him process what he saw as we build discussion of his feelings and thoughts into our conversations around the book.

Just forgetting about it and hoping it won’t come up again is one way to respond, but I don’t think that works.  For me, my “MO” has been to remember what was said, think about it, and reapproach the subject when I’ve had a chance to frame the discussion.  Starting with a book or work of art as a prompt is helpful.

What do you do?  What has your child said about race that stumped you?  How did you respond? 

Photo credit James Glave

I also had a conversation at the Minority and Female Business Enterprise Conference last week with a gentleman about the idea of when and how we become aware of our cultural identity.  For me, as part of the majority culture, I never thought about it per se, until more recently.  For this gentleman, who was African American, he remembered growing up as a child, in the care of his caucasian God father, who was in the military.  He remembered that people would treat him differently once they realized who he was with.  It was subtle, but now that we were talking about it, he knew it was there.

Sometimes the moments are hurtful, sometimes just curious.  When was the first time you became aware of your cultural identity, as distinct from others?  Did/How did you respond?  Did/How did that feeling help frame a more empathic approach to interactions with others?  Which incidents were paralyzing, and which empowering?

Let us never doubt the critical importance of any and all efforts, big or small, to combat prejudice and racism.  As the shooting today at the Holocaust Museum in DC confirms, both are still rampant.

I was surprised by a piece on NPR today that said “Rob Riggle is best known as a comedy “news” correspondent on The Daily Show With Jon Stewart. But he’s also got another gig: as a Marine Corps reservist.”

I always like any piece that makes me question my underlying assumptions.  And while there wasn’t necessarily anything prejudicial going on here, I did realize Riggle as a Marine didn’t jive with my vision of Riggle as comedian.   At a bare minimum, it put his physical comedy of punches, wall busting, block and board breaking into a different light-the blocks and boards were probably real!

On the other hand, perhaps there was something a little more discriminatory going on, as this letter from Diversity, Inc. suggests when looking at the military as a culture, as in ’the way we do things here.’  Marine’s with a sense of humor?  Who’da thunk?  Comedians in the line of perile?  Hmmph?   

As unconscious biases are at the heart of prejudice, it’s nice to have someone light and uncharged to remind one to remember to check their assumptions at the door. 

Perhaps Rob was serious when he said he was leaving to fight crime.  Sorry, Rob.  Happy Memorial Day.

When Samantha Runnion was plucked from her front yard and found dead only hours later, Dillon was no longer allowed to play outside by himself; when three young boys were found asphyxiated in the trunk of a car, Dillon got a long lecture about never, ever, ever hiding in abandoned refrigerators or cars or any type of enclosure where he might get locked in.  He’s gotten lectures about never talking strangers even if they offer puppies or candy; avoiding long curtain cords or giving out personal information on the computer, about knowing that no matter how sad he gets he must always talk to mommy.  In each case, horrific news stories about the loss of a child and deep empathy for an anguished mother translated into action steps to avoid this ever happening in our family.

 ”Oh, of course,” I immediately thought, when I read about Timothy Cole and saw the accompanying photo, his smiling face, full of promise. “This happened because of the “all black men look alike and black men rape white women stereotypes from back then.”  This thought was followed by “suppress that thought and do not say it out loud, you racist” followed by  ”I didn’t make it up those are the societal stereotypes” followed by “I’d like to think this wouldn’t happen today” followed by “but I know these prejudices still abound.”

As part of the majority culture, the question was not about warning Dillon how not to be the victim, but how not to (presumably inadvertently) be the perpetrator, and how to explain this without articulating and thereby perpetuating the underlying stereotypes.   

A story on NPR a few days later, related to Black History Month, later gave the entrée.  “We studied that in school.  Martin Luther King and Rosa Parks were responsible for Civil Rights,” he said with a 7-year-old’s simplicity, as we listened to the story.  Here was an invitation to explain that while what he learns during black history month is great, it’s important to remember that African Americans and people of all backgrounds contribute to our history every day, not just in February.  Thousands of people stood up and continue to stand up for Civil Rights, and he too can make a difference in history by standing up for what he believes in.

The danger of prejudice is that people become a stereotype or an archetype.  By framing the conversation around how everyone has the power to change the world and the obligation to stand up for what is right, we acknowledge that each person is unique.  And the only way that we can protect and honor our own individuality is by recognizing it in others. The best way to exonerate Timothy Cole is to make a commitment and teach my child to do this in every interaction, every day. What news stories have resonated with you, where you felt you had to do something?  What action have you taken.  How do you frame conversations about race, or take steps in your own life to overcome the unconscious bias of society?

With ‘intra-cultural’ communication, or what’s thought of as Diversity Training, however, it’s more complex.  It’s less about learning a set of  habits or customs and more about sensitivity and understanding power structures-it’s not just about how to communicate with people who might be of different race, ethnicity, orientation, ability or other ‘line of difference,’ it’s about how to identify unconscious biases and to work toward fair hiring and promotion practices. 

While Diversity Training continues to be a multibillion dollar industry, studies abound on both sides as to its effectiveness, depending on the companies studied and metrics used.   Is it measured by the amount of loss that was avoided by complying with legal requirements?  Is it measured by the total dollars or percentage of total dollars spent on minority suppliers?  Is it measured by statistics on minority advancement?  By only tying diversity outcomes to the bottom line of the company, however, ultimately there’s no change in the paradigm of the power structure.

Which leads to the question, where is the intersection of measuring diversity as relates to the bottom-line, and embracing diversity in the sense of social justice such as anti-prejudice or anti-racism?

The arts have long worked to define business metrics to attract support and funding.  There’s the value of cultural tourism, tangible dollars spent on tickets and admissions, and a newer idea of cultural capital…that it benefits business to establish itself in a city with a thriving cultural community, as a means to attract the best talent.

In the area of diversity, however, it would behoove us to look beyond the bottom line, or to cast a broader net to define the value.  Jon Stewart and Daily Show correspondent Larry Wilmore jested that with the election of Barak Obama to the presidency, racism as we know it is over in the United States.  Yet just 15 minutes later, on the Colbert Report, guest Kevin Johnson, former NBA star and new Mayor Elect of Sacramento, cited high school graduation rates across the US (available also from the Manhattan Institute) at only 70% overall, and the graduation rate for African Americans and Hispanics hovered at only 50%. 

For diversity ultimately to work, there needs to be systemic change, and for dramatic systemic change, it needs to come from the bottom up as well as the top down.  For that to happen, inclusion needs to move beyond isolated management training to include staff at all levels, and institutions need to reach beyond their walls and into community. 

So whether you are employee or executive, offer to set up education and mentoring programs with schools under the program title “Diversifying Our Future Workforce.”  Volunteer at a nearby community organization, or set up on-site job-shadow days, defined in business terms as connecting with your customers.  In the world of fitness, the saying is that it takes about three weeks of action to form a habit.  Why not form a habit of promoting diversity and social justice with your every day habits to promote an inclusive workplace?

It was just the two of us, having a conversation at home, but I was taken aback by the analogy, and paused.  As an actively anti-racist parent, what would even make L think of that reference?  While certainly not intended that way, was his statement racist?  What he said felt wrong to me.  But why? 

“I don’t think I would say that,” I started.  With all of the studies in the media lately about unconscious bias and whites being afraid to talk about race for fear of offending, I didn’t want him left with an ambiguous sense of shame that might inhibit him from healthy conversations about race as he grew. 

While I assured him I knew he was innocently trying to convey the extent to which his skin was covered in mud, which is dark, I was stuck on the fact that it was mud (e.g. ‘dirty’), and that there was something not right about the idea of covering oneself to look like another race (e.g. you don’t ‘dress up’ to look like a Native American).  “Well,” I started slowly, “one reason might be that it doesn’t make sense to use an image that relates to someone’s skin color to describe something.”  But I was still missing the “why?” (and any language that could actually be understood by a 7 year old.)

A nagging connection materialized from my subconscious.  “Maybe it’s because a long time ago there was something called “Minstrel shows” where white people would put black, mud-like paint on their face and pretend to be black, but they would act stupid or in a way that didn’t make sense, implying that people of color weren’t smart, which of course isn’t the case, and of course it was offensive.  We don’t have minstrel shows anymore, but maybe someone might make that connection, and of course you don’t want to say anything that might be prejudiced.”

Nearly a week later, I find myself thinking about a Robert Mapplethorpe exhibit that took place at the Institute of Contemporary Art in Boston two decades ago.  Critics condemned the exhibit as pornographic.  Defenders said the photographs were innocent, it was society that was sick, and any pornography was the projection of our own disturbed thoughts onto the images.  I remember one quote in the newspaper from a City Councilman that seemed particularly lascivious.  “I’m going to go through every inch of that exhibit, and if I see anything dirty or nasty I’m going to shut that exhibit down.”  You could almost see the drool at the corners of his mouth, imagining him walking through the exhibit searching for obscenity.

In the end, L understood what I taught him.  But the bigger question was did I teach him a lesson, or did I perpetuate my own unconscious bias?  Was what he said wrong, or was I analyzing too deeply and making a racist connection that wasn’t there?  By describing a specific racist behavior and a little of the history of racism-did I teach him not to be racist, or was I actually teaching him to look at people differently, which he might not have thought of before. 

Honestly, I don’t know.  But perhaps I did teach him the “power of one” and “personal accountability” and how our words really do matter.  Politicians and media personalities make offensive comments out loud and in public, unfortunately, all the time.  I say by the time it gets to the mouthpiece, the underlying prejudice is already ingrained. 

I do know that my intent is to start at the core…with “L’s” heart and mind.  I tell him it’s because when he grows up he might be a great arbitrator who finally brings peace to the world.  Why not?  Someone’s got to do it.  Why not start, today, at home, with me and L?

This stems from a conversation I was having yesterday.  I can’t remember the genesis of the conversation, but somehow it was appropriate to throw in that I heard a Brazilian company was looking to buy Anheuser-Busch.  “It’s the same company that I think bought Stella-Artois,” I added. 

“That’s a European company,” my friend countered. 

“It’s in Belgium,” I said, “but the company in Brazil that makes Brahma and Antartica I think owns them now.” 

“No, it’s a big company,” my friend said, making it clear that it was impossible that a Brazilian company could be involved in something of this size, or that a Brazilian company could be big.

Unfortunately, I had to let it go at the time, because I didn’t have my facts in front of me, but I do know that Brahma is the most popular beer in Brazil, and if my beer were the most popular beer in the fifth most populous country in the world, (over 188 million people by 2006 statistics), I’d be pretty happy!

I shared this with my husband, who was immediately clear on the insult, (the underlying assumption being that Brazil is a Third World Country) and sent me this link about the St. Louis bid.    (InBev’s own story and very young CEO is also impressive to see).

My husband also noted that in taking over management of dozens of brands around the world, they maintain a 70% Brazilian Board, but have kept the European and Canadian brand identities.  ”I thought that some of us may have grown away from this absurd discrimination,” he said in reponse.  “I am glad that we Brazilians realized that and we are feeding egos by saying that it is a European beer so that we can still make money.” 

I believe that’s called laughing all the way to the bank!