“They wouldn’t even look at me” – Unexpected Insights on Inclusivity
“Stereotypes are valuable,” he said. “But only if you use them to your advantage. They present your readers with something they’ll recognize, and it pulls them into what appears to be familiar territory, a comfort zone. But once they’re in, you have to move them beyond the stereotype. You have to show them what’s real.”
“What’s real?” I asked.
Without hesitation, he said, “You.”
It was one of those things that you instantly recognize as profound, and then, because you don’t quite understand it, try to forget as quickly as you can. It was also one of those things that you cannot forget. And so it roamed freely in my subconscious, occasionally coming into sharp focus to remind me of its presence, but I allowed myself to be consumed by it no more than I would a housefly.”
—Jerald Walker, p. 55-56 of “Dragon Slayers”
While the above excerpt is not from the “Inclusive Pedagogy” readings for the week, I couldn’t help but think of this short essay by Jerald Walker as I made my way through excerpts from Claude Steele’s Whistling Vivaldi: How Stereotypes Affect Us and What We Can Do. (If you haven’t read Walker’s piece, you really should; you can find it in Best American Essays 2007. I find it moving every time I read it. Anyway, moving along…)
In the introduction, Steele* doesn’t take long to get to the tough stuff; it’s only on page 6 where he first tells us the story of Brent Staples, the young black man who started whistling Vivaldi (classical music) to signal to people he passed on the streets of Chicago that he meant no harm:
By the end of this page, I was reminded of the different ways people experience being “othered” based on stereotypes, and I thought back to some personal experiences that have driven me to be a more inclusive person. All I could think of was the following sentence I had heard from two people on two different occasions: “They wouldn’t even look at me.”
The first time I heard someone make this observation was in a classroom at the community college where I used to teach first-year composition. One of my non-traditional students (picture a friendly, funny, average American white guy) shared with the class that he had been homeless for over a decade of his life, and that one of the worst parts of that experience was how often people would look through him like he wasn’t there or ignore him completely. “They would’t even look at me.” And at that moment, my eyes were opened to yet another injustice the homeless often suffer: a total lack of acknowledgment from other people, even through a kindness so small as the slightest eye contact.
(I was ashamed; as an introvert and a female, I avoid a great deal of eye contact with strangers, especially men. It’s likely I wouldn’t have looked at him either.)
The second time I heard this statement was no less surprising than the first, although it made just as much sense the second it was brought up. I was attending a professional development seminar here at VT and the speaker (picture an eloquent and educated black man in a nice suit with a pretty good proclivity for jokes) told us (a mix of graduate students, adjuncts, and faculty members) that we needed to remember to acknowledge one another. That we needed to look each other in the eye. He reminded us that, even as a well-educated man who was dressed in a suit and just walking a college campus, most people still wouldn’t make eye contact with him as he walked by. “The students,” he said, “They wouldn’t even look at me.”
(At this point, I made a mental note to work on this more, but it’s not easy; I could write an entire post on the complexities of making the mistake of making eye contact with the wrong person, especially if that person is a man. Alas.)
At any rate, that one sentence is the part of each story that’s stuck most with me over time, not just because its isolating and heartbreaking nature, but specifically because it speaks to our collective tendency to ostracize (or worse, dehumanize) that which we don’t understand. And here I am, with two different times in my life that demonstrate the need to be more inclusive, both at school and life in general. Here’s hoping for some good to come of it.
To close, I would like to refer to the end of Katherine Phillips’ piece “How Diversity Makes Us Smarter,” specifically because her conclusion really summarizes what I think we’re getting at when we think about this process.
That is, the task of working toward an inclusive pedagogy is a continual one where there is still more progress to be made:
This is how diversity works: by promoting hard work and creativity; by encouraging the consideration of alternatives even before any interpersonal interaction takes place. The pain associated with diversity can be thought of as the pain of exercise. You have to push yourself to grow your muscles. The pain, as the old saw goes, produces the gain. In just the same way, we need diversity—in teams, organizations and society as a whole—if we are to change, grow and innovate.
*Some of my other observations from various chapters of the Claude Steele readings are included below:
- Chapter 1 – An Introduction: On the Root of Identity”
- p. 4 – 5: Steele’s use of the term “identity contingencies” was an apt one. In summary, he’s referring to all the shit you have to deal with because of one (or more) aspect(s) of your identity. (This is how I defined it in my notes, and that’s how I would like to write here, because really, it is some shit.)
- I couldn’t help but wonder if the term “stereotype threat” and Steele’s work on this issue would be under fire by the “this is overly PC” and “you’re just a bunch of whiny snowflakes” crowd. I don’t agree with that assessment, but I know those comments would occur.
- p. 6 -7: Displaying knowledge of the dominant culture, especially examples of “high” culture, can help some individuals deal with stereotyping—even though they shouldn’t have to prove themselves—and that’s one of the themes that contributes to the main focus on the book:
- “The stereotype in the air that threatened him is fended off. And the change in the behavior of those on the street, and in his own behavior, reveals the power that a mere stereotype—floating in the air like a cloud gathering the nation’s history—was having on everyone all along. Whistling Vivaldi is about the experience of living under such a cloud—an experience we all have—and the role such clouds play in shaping our lives and society.”
- p. 14: Because everyone is capable of bias:
- “We simply are not, and cannot be, all knowing and completely objective. Our understandings and views of the world are partial, and reflect the circumstances of our particular lives. This is where a discipline like science comes in. It doesn’t purge us of bias. But it extends what we can see and understand, while constraining bias.”
- p. 4 – 5: Steele’s use of the term “identity contingencies” was an apt one. In summary, he’s referring to all the shit you have to deal with because of one (or more) aspect(s) of your identity. (This is how I defined it in my notes, and that’s how I would like to write here, because really, it is some shit.)
- Chapter 9 – Reducing Identity and Stereotype Threat: A New Hope
- p.190: “You should focus on making the identity less ‘inconvenient’” with respect to creating a classroom environment.
- Chapter 11 – Conclusion: Identity as a Bridge Between Us
- p. 218: We should use our multiple identities as bridges to get to know one another and work better together.