I Am Guilty of Perpetuating Racism

I was reading an article by Charles R. Lawrence about how we minorities perpetuate racism. He was laughing with his black friends during an Amos and Andy comedy aired on the radio. His father said that he didn't like the show because it poked fun at the Negroes. Another story he shared spoke of how his kindergarten teacher was reading a comical story called, "Little Sambo" and the plight of a little black boy with a minstrel mouth who was running around a room with a stack of pancakes because a tiger was chasing him. Charles was the only black student in the class and all the kids were laughing at the story while he was experiencing a knot in his stomach called pain and anxiety. Charles was Little Sambo and he realized he has much in common with him. So as the class was laughing at Little Sambo he realized they were laughing at him.

Reflecting on the innocence of children and even as adults I had to ask myself, "So what?" Why is it so bad to laugh at these various stories when we all know it is just fun. Besides as members of the race don't we have a right to laugh at ourselves? Life is so hard as it is and laughing at the silly things we do is comic relief. I know I have done it, my family has done it, and so have my friends. But then Mr. Lawrence made a point that was worth remembering. He said, it isn't only the white people and the institutions that perpetuate racism, we, the victims, do so as well. And this was definitely food for thought.

The import of making fun of our own race in the moment of innocence has also instilled in ourselves and our children that we have internalized racism and our own stereotypes. I pondered how I was guilty of this in my own home with my children and recalled several times when we sat around the living room and kitchen table laughing at our cultural experiences we each had during the day or week. These stories while funny actually confirmed the stigmas about Pacific Islanders.

The message at the end of the "funny session" was:....Pacific Islanders are big. They love to eat. They don't think about the next day. They are lazy. They use their strength and not their brains. They are just dumb. And they are funny as heck. They are illiterate. And they just don't get the jokes. You don't hear jokes about them working as professionals or as students getting an education. You don't hear about the love they have for their own or the sacrifices parents make for their children. You don't hear about the service their youth give to their parents without a care about their own health. You don't hear about them doing well in school.

It's quite different than Comedy Central who as a white comedian, they wear the jacket of comedian and can take it off and they are still seen as privileged and polished. Whereas for the comedian of color, they never take the jacket off. What they poke fun at is also what they are in the eyes of the beholder and the listener.

Can we really talk about colorblindness with these differences in how we also perpetuate race? As I begin to isolate the areas I am choosing to focus on in my dissertation proposal, I keep finding myself scrutinizing my own racialized history. In this case, Mr. Lawrence's point of minorities perpetuating racism runs deep in my thinking. What messages did I personally teach to my own children during my own comedy session in the comfort of our home? How have I continued this problem in working with my white peers and constituents at work and at school? In the effort to bring race to the conversation, I find myself in a dilemma of my own part I have played in this perpetuation. I am guilty and I didn't even make a profit.