The Urgency and Beauty of Seeing Colorby April Dinwoodie
Westerly Sun June 15, 2023 They were jubilant. Their wish to adopt a baby girl would soon become a reality. The agency casually mentioned that a geneticist had concluded it was “possible the child would be mixed-race” (Black/bi-racial). Open and loving, my prospective adoptive parents leaned into their well-intended, albeit naïve, “color-blind” philosophy. Racial difference was not an issue. Their preference was gender; their daughter had been angling for a sister; adding a girl to the family created even sibling sets — two girls and two boys. Over the years, I have learned that many things can be true simultaneously. In this case, my adoptive family eagerly welcomed and loved me, though that love could not always meet my unique needs as a transracial adoptee. I am both blessed that my family and the community of Westerly adopted me; at the same time, there have been, and continue to be, challenges. If I have heard it once, I have heard it thousands of times — “I/we just don’t see color.” Intellectually, I know that for many, this is an attempt not to be racist, especially within the context of brutal centuries of skin-color bias. But emotionally, for a person of color today, the phrase can trigger a constellation of feelings. Whether from a teacher, a participant in one of my adoptive parent training sessions, a colleague, or a family member, hearing these words at different ages and stages of my life has conjured a mix of hurt, confusion, skepticism, and anger. Hurt, because if you don’t see color, you don’t see beautiful aspects of my identity and my culture of origin — from my brown skin, hair, and eyes to many foundational elements of music, art, and innovation created and gifted to the world by my Black ancestors. Not seeing color overlooks us and our achievements. Confusion, because who would choose not to see, celebrate, and appreciate individual differences as gateways to understanding our human complexity and building more inclusive and diverse communities that see, value, and respect everyone? Skepticism because children often see and innocently comment upon others of a different race they encounter in public. Do we believe that childhood curiosity, wonder, and recognition of the differences in others disappear with age? Anger, because color-evasive ways of moving around people of color can leave them unprotected and harmed as they navigate majority white spaces that claim not to see color. It is as simple as comparing a summer beach tan to my arm and claiming we are “getting closer.” Worse is a teacher, while introducing the one unit I remember about enslaved persons in our high school history curriculum, directing a class comment to me, “We’re going to talk about slavery, now. I’m sure that’s something YOU know about, April.” Color blindness suggests that we treat everyone the same regardless of race. The reality is that people of different racial backgrounds often face other challenges and experiences. Black Americans are more likely than White Americans to experience police brutality, health care gaps, barriers in housing, employment, and financial services, limited educational opportunities, and more. Black American children are disproportionately represented in the child welfare and foster care system, as I was. All result from systemic racism, which color blindness refuses to see. Treating everyone the same without acknowledging differences perpetuates inequity and discrimination. Not seeing color leaves us sightless of realities and history like Juneteenth. This newly recognized Federal holiday commemorates the day in 1865 when enslaved African Americans in Galveston, Texas, first learned of their freedom, which the Emancipation Proclamation had granted in 1863, almost three years prior. The day, dedicated to freedom and justice, honors the journey of enslaved persons in the United States. It reminds us that skin color meant freedom or enslavement for hundreds of years. I have learned that the beauty of racial differences is an urgency that cannot be denied or resisted. Despite any good-hearted intention, believing that our corner of the world is somehow free of racism and claiming not to see color holds us back from the beauty of color and culture. It implies the harmful and destructive idea (intended or not) that “no color” means “white.” When we create intentionally safe spaces, as we do every Sunday in our ARC gatherings at the post office, we build a community that begins to see one another more fully. We build individual and collective capacity for seeing color as a gateway to cherish and protect racial minorities. We shift “I don’t see color” to “I do see you” meaning both “I cherish you as a part of our collective diverse humanity” and “I cherish you as a worthy, glorious individual.” When we do that and dedicate ourselves to protecting that difference, we have done crucial relational work for ourselves and our community. Embracing and celebrating our growing diversity is possible and ensuring equity and inclusion are as urgent as saving the earth’s biodiversity or our planet from the ravages of climate change. Our very health and survival depend upon it. This column is written by members of the Westerly Anti-Racism Coalition, which embraces multiculturalism to address racism. Geoff Serra is a contributing editor. ARC meets on the steps of the Westerly Post Office each Sunday, 11 a.m. to 1 p.m. All are welcome. Learn more and subscribe to ARC’s newsletter at westerlyarc.weebly.com. Contact them at [email protected]. Some reflections on Motherhood by Madeline Labriola
Westerly Sun May 17, 2023 I grew up in the 1950s assuming I would marry, have children, and live happily ever after. Fast forward to 2023. I have five children, 11 grandchildren, and two great-grandchildren. I fulfilled the expectations of my generation! Motherhood has been a journey of joy and sadness. The moment I held my newborn son I felt an overwhelming love. I vowed to keep him safe, healthy and completely loved. I didn’t worry if my children were safe walking home, buying candy at the neighborhood store or jogging on a residential street. In our small town in the Hudson Valley in New York I trusted the school, coaches, Scout leaders, clergy, and police. There were no active-shooter drills foreshadowing violence in school or social media. Like all mothers I was apprehensive about them as they grew into teenagers, started driving, dating, and craving independence. The joy of being a mother can very quickly turn to sadness and fear as we watch a son or daughter struggle. In my case, when they got into trouble, a loving family and a strong community protected and embraced them. On Mother’s Day I realize how fortunate and insulated I was from the reality of motherhood for millions of American women who didn’t share my privileges. Many mothers worry that the outside world will harm their children instead of enfolding and protecting them. When George Floyd and Tyre Nichols called for their mothers with their last breath, I could only sob in anguish. Tragically, their mother’s love was not enough to save them from such brutality. Black, Indigenous and People of Color (BIPOC) mothers worry about their children in ways I never did. Will the world see them as part of a community or see them as threats? Will they be subjected to racial profiling that contributes to the incarceration of one in three Black men? Our police departments have many fine officers, but it is fair to note that even the best officers operate in a system that disproportionately impacts Black people. Several friends have shared with me stories about “the talk.” Black moms must explain racism to their children and advise them how to act if stopped by the police. There is no guarantee of their safety even if they follow these instructions. Ruby Bridges became the first African American child to integrate an all-white school in the South in 1960. Her mother was frantic with worry as her 6-year-old was routinely tormented on her way to school. Her mother feared for her life as people threatened to poison Ruby. White adults removed their children from school, and Ruby sat alone in a classroom for a year. The Civil Rights movement focused on the blatant racism in our educational system. Westerly is not the 1950s segregated South, but we are not immune to the impact of systemic racism. Our school population is 20% BIPOC. It would be naive to believe that racism does not impact Westerly. As our demographics shift will we be brave enough to reflect on the realities of this change? Will we be willing to educate ourselves and fix any discriminatory practices? Will we have the courage to establish equity within our systems to help all Westerly citizens? Unless we are brave enough to honor and protect all children from long-held prejudices and false beliefs, none of our children will receive an equitable education. Will we have the compassion to consider the worried mother whose children are bullied, ignored or discounted because of their color? No mother wants her children to arrive home from school traumatized. We have yet to learn how to adequately handle microaggressions and racial incidents that seem subtle, but wound deeply. I am confident that the people of our community will accept the challenges ahead, work together, lead with love and compassion as we support and create a future where every child is safe, healthy, and completely loved. To be a mother is a universal joy. I am thankful for my children and my life. At the same time, I must acknowledge the facts about the lives of many BIPOC mothers. We share the same love, hopes and dreams for our children. I pray that someday every mother will safely give birth to children who will be raised in a safe and loving world, regardless of color. As a member of the Westerly Anti-Racism Coalition, I passionately dedicate myself to advancing the dignity of every mother’s child through education, speaking the truth and standing up for justice. I invite you to join the conversations of many mothers (and fathers) at ARC’s Sunday gatherings, and plan to join our fun, family celebration of Juneteenth next month. Find all the details on our website. This column is written by members of the Westerly Anti-Racism Coalition, which embraces multiculturalism to address racism. Geoff Serra is a contributing editor. ARC meets on the steps of the Westerly Post Office each Sunday, 11 a.m. to 1 p.m. All are welcome. Learn more and subscribe to ARC’s newsletter at westerlyarc.weebly.com. Contact them at [email protected]. still learning but with some better tools by Tim Flanagan
Westerly Sun April 27, 2023 "Mary is brave taking that route through the city. We’re going the safe way.” My parish priest made this observation as we followed my mother’s car home to our small town outside Hartford, Connecticut, from a day at Misquamicut Beach. Throughout my childhood in the 1970s, my family made regular summer trips to the beach. The journeys involved several cars filled with my five siblings, family friends, and always one of the many priests my parents knew through their involvement with the church. That day, Father Joe steered the car I was in down a tree-lined street of mansions. I silently prayed for my mom’s safety as her car disappeared on the “dangerous” more direct way through the city. My dad worked in Hartford, so I knew the different routes home. I learned at a young age that the “dangerous” neighborhoods were where Black and Puerto Rican people lived. I always had questions — some silent, some spoken — every time we passed through them. Why do people live here? Why do they dress differently? Why are so many people on the street? Why do we lock the doors and roll up the windows? Why is there only one Black family in our town? My 10-year-old self struggled to understand the complexities of race, class, and culture. I am still making sense of our world. As an adult, I have more tools to help me, including several recently published books. Isabel Wilkerson’s metaphors in “Caste” deepened my understanding of how structures established long ago contribute to inequity. “The Color of Law” by Richard Rothstein made it clear that my idyllic childhood town was not all-white by accident, but was the result of unjust laws and discriminatory practices in housing and banking. And “The Sum of Us” by Heather McGhee showed me real-world examples of how injustice for some hurts all. I also learn by interacting with others like the diverse group of people who meet every Sunday at Westerly ARC’s gatherings on the post office steps. I now understand that racism comes in many forms, not just as an interaction between two people. Grasping the concepts of structural and systemic racism is a challenge if you’ve never experienced them, but that does not make them less real. Examining the causes of inequity is not about assigning blame or provoking feelings of guilt. It is a way to build a better society for all. Ignoring problems that harm anyone in our community (or denying they exist) leads to worse outcomes for everyone. For nearly three years, Westerly ARC has worked to educate ourselves and others on the benefits of creating a more equitable and inclusive Westerly. But what exactly does that mean? As a teacher, ensuring that students understand the words we use as a starting point toward deeper knowledge is helpful. To that end, here are a few terms widely used today, but often misunderstood. Diversity is about recognizing that we are not all the same. Westerly is full of diversity in age, gender, ethnicity, religion, disability, sexual orientation, education, socioeconomic status, political perspective, religion, language, national origin, and more. For example, about 20% of Westerly students identify as a race other than white. Equity means giving everyone what they need with the goal of creating a more fair and just society. Teachers work toward equity by individualizing instruction according to students’ needs. Sometimes inequity is hard to see as it is the result of unfair systems that have been in place for decades. Inclusion sounds easy, but it takes work to achieve. It involves a feeling of true belonging and empowerment for those who have traditionally been marginalized. Representation is one way to support inclusion. Providing students with books that reflect their identity, teaching history that centers marginalized groups, and electing representatives of different races go a long way to make everyone feel empowered, leading to better outcomes for all. Implicit bias leads us to make snap judgments that are out of our control, like associating a religion with terrorism. I am reminded of my own bias whenever I pass through those “dangerous” neighborhoods. Father Joe may not have realized he was perpetuating a stereotype on that day driving back from Misquamicut, but that does not matter. What matters is that I use my understanding of injustice to take action. The compassion and empathy for others that I learned from my parents and my Catholic upbringing compel me to take action. Joining the conversation is one way to take action. Conversations about race can be uncomfortable, but that does not mean we should shy away from them. My confidence in having these conversations has grown because I continue to learn the answers to my childhood questions and new ones that have come since then. The discomfort is still there, but the need for conversation and action is too great to ignore. Westerly ARC invites you to join the conversations at our Sunday gatherings. This column is written by members of the Westerly Anti-Racism Coalition, which embraces multiculturalism to address racism. Geoff Serra is a contributing editor. ARC meets on the steps of the Westerly Post Office each Sunday, 11 a.m. to 1 p.m. All are welcome. Learn more and subscribe to ARC’s newsletter at westerlyarc.weebly.com. Contact them at [email protected]. Embracing Multiculturalism: Westerly ARC: Celebrating our community The unofficial motto of the U.S. Postal Service is “Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stops these couriers.” In this same spirit, a group of local citizens, rain or shine, has assembled each Sunday morning on the front steps of Westerly’s Post Office in town for nearly three years. They stand peacefully to deliver a message about equity and inclusion. Who are they? Why are they there?
They are our neighbors, friends, coworkers, and relatives — we see them in the grocery store and church, at children’s and grandchildren’s school and sporting events, in coffee shops, and running errands in town. They are ordinary citizens who, like so many of us, care deeply about all who call Westerly home and those who come to work and play here. Their arc of activism began in June 2020, inspired by 200 folks gathered at the post office in the wake of George Floyd’s death and buoyed by a longing to create space for loving and practical conversations about racism and diversity in Westerly. By December 2020, they began to host and take part in community conversations with town leaders, including members of clergy, law enforcement, the Westerly Public Library, School Committee, Town Council, Chamber of Commerce, United Theatre, and WARM Center. They wanted to share experiences, listen to the realities of the impact of racism and bias in town, and discuss possible solutions. Participants shared thoughtful stories and perspectives and helped everyone to know one another and envision ways to thrive as we meet the changing needs of our community. These warmly received conversations encouraged them to organize their efforts to advocate for change. They committed to the hard work of social change and educating themselves and others about inequity’s economic and social costs, not just for people of color, but for all. In January 2021, the Westerly Anti-Racism Coalition (ARC) was founded. Today they are a coalition of volunteers; they have a website, and 250 subscribers read their weekly newsletter. Our town is beautiful — rich in talent, ideas, and energy. Our history includes indigenous peoples, immigrants, newcomers, people of color, folks with different abilities, and many more, some unseen and many underrepresented. Social change is community-building, and as ARC embraces the evolving face of Westerly’s character, they invite you to join, hear their voices, views, and stories, and share your own. ARC has no affiliation with any state or national organization. They require only a sincere, open heart and a desire for inclusivity and equity. ARC is a big project, but collective action brings forth the best in all. ARC is on a journey committed to the belief that when people come together to mentor, learn, and speak up and out, they contribute to a community deeply respectful of all races, ethnic groups, and identities with space for many cultures, a community that treats all peoples with respect, love, and openness so our children have many role models on their pathway to become thoughtful and creative human beings and citizens. Reformers have long recognized love as the most powerful driver of social change. The civil rights leaders who initiated our nation’s reckoning with racism in the 1950s and 1960s did so in the name of love. Their monumental advocacy aimed to create a “beloved community,” an idea popularized by Martin Luther King Jr. as a vision of social harmony. ARC holds the fullness of this vision. It is now even more apparent that working with one another meaningfully and consciously is the only path forward. This means listening deeply, discerning the unspoken needs of all people, and building systems to respond to those needs. Together, we can accomplish so much; when we lift one of us, we lift all; when one group succeeds, all succeed, and our community flourishes. Rejecting fear and divisiveness and embracing collaboration, positivity, and love — yes, love — we keep one another fully alive — we keep Westerly fully alive. Community success is not zero-sum; no one needs to lose for another to succeed; every gain benefits all. Inclusivity and equity are a community win-win. This column is the first in a monthly series from Westerly ARC. In each column, ARC members will write about social reform issues affecting our communities and town, multiculturalism, local happenings, and personal stories. This column continues ARC’s community conversations. It seeks to transcend barriers, build and reform systems, and use our resources to benefit all. We hope these columns help us educate, empower, and embrace one another — our similarities and differences — and celebrate our community as the sum of us. This column is written by members of the Westerly Anti-Racism Coalition, which embraces multiculturalism to address racism. ARC meets on the steps of the Westerly Post Office each Sunday, 11a.m. to 1 p.m. All are welcome. Learn more and subscribe to ARC’s newsletter at westerlyarc.weebly.com. Contact them at [email protected]. |
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This website is a publication of the Westerly Anti-Racism Coalition. ARC is a community coalition unaffiliated with any state, national, or international organization. ARC embraces multiculturalism to address racism.
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