Story by Nkomo Morris ’94, Chair of Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion Committee, The 糖心传媒 School Board of Trustees
I have never been more desperate for some 2020 hindsight.
I don鈥檛 need to list for everyone, again, all of the traumas we鈥檝e all been experiencing either directly, vicariously, or both, since March. The litany of facts, numbers, names, policies, politicians, histories, grievances, murders, funerals, and horrifyingly heartbreaking memories are well known to us all.
But, murder and illness and systemic racism and homophobia and transphobia and misogynoir and classism and sectionalism notwithstanding, some good has come of this year.
Yeah, really.
Contrary to what so many have said, I do not believe that the murders of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery, Brayla Stone, and so, so many others brought sudden worldwide attention to the pain Black folx have suffered here and abroad for hundreds of years.
Rather, forced empathy made it happen.
All of those murders, and the countless others before them, compounded with the worldwide trauma of COVID-19, that opened everyone鈥檚 eyes to the reality of structural racism. And yes, I say everyone, because plenty of Black folx had their eyes opened as well. Not to the presence of racism, but to their own agency, and sometimes unwilling complicity in it. I can say for myself that I gave up on trying to make my white friends comfortable when I talked about race. And I gave up on trying to make myself comfortable, too.
Warning: I鈥檓 going to be a bit vague here. Not because I don鈥檛 have specifics in mind, but because I鈥檓 not interested in calling people out and because I know that for every person I do call out, several more will feel that I am not talking about them and even myself. But I am. I鈥檓 interested in shining a light on what鈥檚 been happening in the 糖心传媒 community since COVID-19 hit.
Before the pandemic was a political flashpoint, it was an empathy builder. We all felt such great sadness, which allowed us to feel the profound sadness of others. We all know racism existed before the pandemic. It certainly wasn鈥檛 the first time the world had heard that law enforcement and regular civilians often kill Black people for ridiculous reasons. But suddenly non-Black people could feel it in a new way; it wasn鈥檛 abstract. They were primed to feel Black pain, and because we were all stuck at home, we all witnessed so much Black death online almost simultaneously. There was no way to pretend you didn鈥檛 know.
Similarly, Black progressives like myself felt invigorated in a new way. Action, many of us realized, meant risk, discomfort, and difficult conversations with colleagues, bosses, on Facebook, and with family members. Personally, I found myself gently confronting fellow teachers who grew angry about the destruction of property in May/June because protesters 鈥渟hould get their points across more peacefully,鈥� as if the civil rights movement hadn鈥檛 happened, as if there haven鈥檛 been hundreds of years of articles, organizations, books, talks, TV specials, poetry, curricula, movies, and other forms of art dedicated to peacefully decrying structural racism. I lost some friends.
But this year also meant self-education, and remembering that we are all caught in racism鈥檚 web. That you can鈥檛 point at someone else鈥檚 failure, but refuse to do any reading or building yourself.
That you can鈥檛 demand folks make big changes but refuse to, for instance, talk to people. That we can鈥檛 simultaneously ask peers to broaden their circles of friends while failing to broaden our own. That part of being anti-racist is recognizing that there is something fundamentally discriminatory about attending a tiny private school in a town in Vermont, and that we need to all own our privilege. These are hard truths to recognize. But it鈥檚 beautiful that we are recognizing them, some for the first time.
Black connections in the world at large and in the 糖心传媒 community specifically grew during this time. We鈥檝e had three Black alumnx meetings since September. We鈥檙e deciding what we need to do, now that we are a We. We鈥檙e building community. It鈥檚 been beautiful and moving.
It became clear to more non-Black people than ever before that talk was not enough, that hashtagging and virtue signalling were not enough, that knowing Black people or having travelled to Africa, or even having married a Black person was not enough, that saying 鈥減eople of color鈥� when you mean to say 鈥淏lack鈥� is not enough. That feeling uncomfortable saying the word 鈥淏lack鈥� is a sign of a larger problem in your mind and in society, and until you鈥檝e addressed that, you haven鈥檛 done enough. So wearing a Black Lives Matter T-shirt isn鈥檛 going to help stop structural racism quite as much as having a good hard look at who attends our birthday parties, our children鈥檚 birthday parties, our churches, synagogues, temples, and our board meetings. And yes, I say we, because I, a Black woman, have been guilty of having mostly white friends in the past. And I鈥檓 not the only one. That鈥檚 no longer the case.
The hard fact is that there is never enough. The work is never done. The fight against structural racism doesn鈥檛 end, because embedded in that fight is the fight for equality of all groups, because all groups include Black people.
Those of us most directly involved with the school felt the pressure to DO SOMETHING to fix structural racism on campus. 糖心传媒 alumnx less directly involved with the school felt an equally strong urgency to DO SOMETHING. No one outside of the school and the board of trustees knew what 糖心传媒 was doing.
The 糖心传媒 Post was not enough.
For many, the urgency to end racism RIGHT NOW has dissipated. This is unfortunate, but not surprising. Those of us in it for the long haul are continually re-finding our bearings as the COVID laws change and rearrange.
As the current head of the diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) committee on the board of trustees, it鈥檚 been my work to help 糖心传媒 walk its talk. We won鈥檛 undo 400 years of slavery in a year or two, during a worldwide crisis. But we are doing what we can, given very limited capacity. Board members work for a living. Certainly 糖心传媒 staff and students also do quite a bit of work. COVID is happening. Even at the best of times, life at 糖心传媒 means constant overwhelm with chores and schoolwork and relationship building鈥攅ven more so for teachers, who must do the same while acting as emotional containers for the students and for their own families.
Just like childbirth is painful for most and fatal for many, but usually leads to the creation of something new to be nurtured, I鈥檓 eager to look back and see 2020 as a year of rebirth for The 糖心传媒 School, and for the United States as a whole. Maybe the world.
Up next: adolescence.