It’s hard to know what to say about the Black Lives Matter movement and the protesting for change to the white supremacist America structures.
Silence is complicity.
Remain quiet and listen.
Most white people I know want to do the right thing and are looking for ways to get involved. It might appear that we’re assuaging our white guilt or that we’re guilty of performative alleyship. I hope this post and the ones that follow do not fall into those categories. I understand the value of amplifying black voices and I realise that this may not be the best time to add my voice to the collective white noise. Having said that- I feel my friends, close followers on Twitter and some of my students may benefit from hearing the stories that have led me to my current state of understanding.
I am no expert in this field and many of my stories will surely lack academic scrutiny. I do not claim to be “woke” any more than anyone else, but I have worked my whole life trying to understand injustice bred from racism. While my work has been unevenly tilted toward awareness and less toward action, I hope that sharing these stories, I may enlightened a few friends, family and students. I’m hoping that this stock-taking of my own experience will inspire others to help motivate us find ways to transform learning into concrete action.
I'm curious about the stories of when people were radicalised or how our past experiences influence our values and beliefs. I believe in the value of sharing stories in an effort to unearth and connect.
Much of my learning comes from music, films and books, so I thought I’d write a series of posts about how various media have influenced my consciousness. I wanted this series to highlight various Black authors, artists and filmmakers that have shaped my views.
If I really want to start from the beginning, which as a first post in a series seems to make sense- I need to start with a white Jewish dude from Minnesota.
My race awareness begins with Bob Dylan. I remember his voice for as I long as I remember hearing. Blowing In The Wind and Times Are A Changin’ were the soundtrack of my childhood.
It must have been in Middle School when I started studying the 1964 album The Times Are Changin’. Songs like Ballad of Hollis Brown, With God on Our Side, North Country Blues were more important to me than any text book or curriculum I was learning in school. Even my childhood growing up in a predominately non-white community hadn’t prepared me for the stories unfolding in these songs.
The songs that stand out as the sparks that lit my fire were:
I can’t say I knew too many Black stories at that point in my life beyond MLK's I Have A Dream speech, and so in a world without the Internet, it was a Dlyan song that introduced me to Medgar Evers. Although my two best friends in elementary school were Black their lives and cultures were unknown to me. It was through these Bob Dylan songs that I started to shape my empathy.
For years after that, I became stuck in the romanticised vision of the poor 1960’s negro. These songs and that history did little to teach me about the contemporary plight of the Black people in my community or school. Not once did we have open conversations about Race during this time of my schooling. I can’t help to think how much faster I would have come to important realisations about systemic racism had I had teachers to help me understand that while the civil rights movement and the protest music of the 60’s had improved the Jim Crow south, they had not eradicated racism. Or even come close.I would come to these realisations on my own years later.
I’m sorry I started my series on the power of Black culture on my values and beliefs with a white artist, but it felt important to start at the beginning.
When did you first become awaken to Racism? How old were you? What shed the light?
Silence is complicity.
Remain quiet and listen.
Most white people I know want to do the right thing and are looking for ways to get involved. It might appear that we’re assuaging our white guilt or that we’re guilty of performative alleyship. I hope this post and the ones that follow do not fall into those categories. I understand the value of amplifying black voices and I realise that this may not be the best time to add my voice to the collective white noise. Having said that- I feel my friends, close followers on Twitter and some of my students may benefit from hearing the stories that have led me to my current state of understanding.
I am no expert in this field and many of my stories will surely lack academic scrutiny. I do not claim to be “woke” any more than anyone else, but I have worked my whole life trying to understand injustice bred from racism. While my work has been unevenly tilted toward awareness and less toward action, I hope that sharing these stories, I may enlightened a few friends, family and students. I’m hoping that this stock-taking of my own experience will inspire others to help motivate us find ways to transform learning into concrete action.
I'm curious about the stories of when people were radicalised or how our past experiences influence our values and beliefs. I believe in the value of sharing stories in an effort to unearth and connect.
Much of my learning comes from music, films and books, so I thought I’d write a series of posts about how various media have influenced my consciousness. I wanted this series to highlight various Black authors, artists and filmmakers that have shaped my views.
But are you ready for the biggest irony of ironies?
If I really want to start from the beginning, which as a first post in a series seems to make sense- I need to start with a white Jewish dude from Minnesota.
My race awareness begins with Bob Dylan. I remember his voice for as I long as I remember hearing. Blowing In The Wind and Times Are A Changin’ were the soundtrack of my childhood.
It must have been in Middle School when I started studying the 1964 album The Times Are Changin’. Songs like Ballad of Hollis Brown, With God on Our Side, North Country Blues were more important to me than any text book or curriculum I was learning in school. Even my childhood growing up in a predominately non-white community hadn’t prepared me for the stories unfolding in these songs.
The songs that stand out as the sparks that lit my fire were:
The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll
“But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize fears
Take the rag away from your face
Now ain't the time for your tears”
Only A Pawn In Their Game
“The deputy sheriffs, the soldiers, the governors get paid
And the marshals and cops get the same
But the poor white man’s used in the hands of them all like a tool
He’s taught in his school
From the start by the rule
To protect his white skin
To keep up his hate
So he never thinks straight
'Bout the shape that he’s in
But it ain't him to blame
He’s only a pawn in their game.”
I can’t say I knew too many Black stories at that point in my life beyond MLK's I Have A Dream speech, and so in a world without the Internet, it was a Dlyan song that introduced me to Medgar Evers. Although my two best friends in elementary school were Black their lives and cultures were unknown to me. It was through these Bob Dylan songs that I started to shape my empathy.
For years after that, I became stuck in the romanticised vision of the poor 1960’s negro. These songs and that history did little to teach me about the contemporary plight of the Black people in my community or school. Not once did we have open conversations about Race during this time of my schooling. I can’t help to think how much faster I would have come to important realisations about systemic racism had I had teachers to help me understand that while the civil rights movement and the protest music of the 60’s had improved the Jim Crow south, they had not eradicated racism. Or even come close.I would come to these realisations on my own years later.
I’m sorry I started my series on the power of Black culture on my values and beliefs with a white artist, but it felt important to start at the beginning.
When did you first become awaken to Racism? How old were you? What shed the light?
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