What Does It Mean to Move below the Surface?

"Bias Isn't Just a Police Problem, It's a Preschool Problem"

Ethnic-racial tensions in US society are not new. They bubble up in all types of places, from rural communities in California to the multicultural mecca of New York City's neighborhoods. We can look to historical and current events that not only reflect our society's tense atmosphere concerning ethnic-racial relations at any given point in history but also continue to ignite and exacerbate such tensions. For instance, the US government has passed immigration policies to exclude individuals from certain countries. This was true in 1882 with the Chinese Exclusion Act and in 2017 with Executive Order 13769, also known as the Muslim ban. Our society has also forced ethnic minorities to choose between their culture and their survival. We have seen this with the government-imposed boarding schools for American Indian children and in English-only legislation that persists despite well-documented evidence of the benefits of bilingualism. Moreover, we have consistently witnessed the disproportionate use of force and violation of basic human rights as the default in how law enforcement approaches communities of color. As the headline above illustrates, these issues persist and make their way into the lives of our young people.

To some, these tensions convey that there is a devaluing of members of groups that do not represent the historically dominant group (i.e., White, European descent, Christian, economically advantaged). This devaluation is like salt in a wound for those who are all too acutely aware of social inequalities that have pervaded US society since its founding. Indeed, there are myriad disparities in the life outcomes of members of marginalized groups compared to members of the dominant group. To others, however, these tensions are thought to be blown out of proportion, exaggerated, or of no relevance to their lives. There is a sense that those who are actively voicing their concerns about the racial tensions are being too sensitive.

Although ethnic-racial tensions are typically presented as an "us" and "them" issue, it's important to recognize that mere membership in a particular social group (e.g., being Latino) does not provide enough information with which to predict how committed or engaged individuals are to addressing the ethnic-racial tensions that exist in our society. To really understand what is driving or informing the perspectives that people have on these different topics, we must go beyond surface-level categorizations and assumptions made about individuals based on their age, gender, race, or ethnicity. Instead, we must consider the psychological and subjective meaning-making processes that underlie how people respond to situations or events such as those above. One way to go below the surface, then, is to better understand how people experience these tensions differently based on their personal understanding of themselves and the social groups to which they belong.

Ethnic-racial identity is an important lens through which individuals experience events and situations related to race and ethnicity. On the one hand, for individuals who have not thought about race or believed they were living in a postracial society, the events "shake them up" and may ignite a reexamination of their views and understandings of race and ethnicity. On the other hand, for those who have examined or considered the role of race in their lives more thoroughly, the event or situation may confirm their existing understandings. Moreover, each individual may view the culpability or responsibility of other social groups differently depending on their sense of how their own group relates to other groups. Consider the following remarks in response to the 2016 election by two individuals who both identify as Muslim American:

How is it possible that here in America in 2016 could a man who has based his campaign on hatred, bigotry and divisiveness win the hearts and minds of so many American people? — Shadin Maali, well-known Chicagoan social activist

The Republican Muslim Coalition is looking forward to working with [P]resident Trump. — Saba Ahmed, leader of the Republican Muslim Coalition

According to the report from which these quotes were taken, Shadin Maali was "in a state of disbelief," whereas Saba Ahmed was "super-excited that Republican candidate Donald Trump had won the presidency." These individuals are referring to the same event, yet their characterization of the result is radically different. Certainly, at the core of these divergent perspectives are differences in awareness, understanding, and tolerance of xenophobia and racism. It will be impossible to align understandings and awareness, and to decrease tolerance of prejudice and racism, if people do not examine the role of race and ethnicity in society and in their daily life.

In the context of the United States, one does not need to go far to encounter situations in which racial and ethnic dynamics are at work. Youth in the United States are bombarded with messages about race and ethnicity in their everyday lives. Such stories, images, situations, and broader conversations often evoke fear, pain, and guilt among even the most socially conscious adults who consider themselves well versed in the complexities of ethnic-racial relations in US society. It's challenging to reconcile the disparate perspectives on these ethnic-racial tensions, much less have open dialogue about them, but our social fabric is weakened by not engaging in meaningful dialogue about these issues.

To be fair, there are a number of barriers to such dialogue. First, as sociologist Eduardo Bonilla-Silva has explained, some people espouse a blatant denial of racism, xenophobia, and other forms of prejudice. But the reality is that in the United States, racism is part of the social fabric, and young people learn it whether they want to or not. Recent findings regarding the dehumanization of Black children in the United States merit consideration in this regard. In one study, Philip Goff and his colleagues asked predominately White college students to rate their perceptions of innocence of Black and White children. When the children who were being rated were nine and younger, there were no differences in how innocently — that is, needing of protection and deserving of care — they were viewed by participants in the study. But when asked to rate children who were ten or older, Black children were rated as significantly less innocent than White children. In another study, Rebecca Dore and her colleagues asked a predominately White sample of five-, seven-, and ten-year-olds to rate their own pain in response to a series of events, and they were then asked to rate the pain of Black and White children in response to those same events. Five-year-olds did not differentiate the pain of Black and White targets, but the ten-year-olds thought Black children's pain would be less than that of White children in response to the same events. Together, these studies indicate that young Black youth may not be afforded the privilege of innocence or the same humanity in terms of pain as their White counterparts. Studies that have focused on evaluations of Black adults show that they are also similarly dehumanized.

Avoiding the topic of racism altogether is arguably justifiable, given that it can be complicated and, for some, emotionally overwhelming to think about. Other people are aware and willing to have the conversations but are unsure about how to begin such a dialogue. They may believe that merely talking about race is racist, or they may be overly concerned about political correctness or about engaging in such discussions from an uninformed place and saying something that would inadvertently offend others. And yet others are ambivalent because of the seemingly insurmountable barriers and what appears to be a lack of progress since the civil rights movement.

People respond to the challenges of open dialogue differently. For example, one response might be "don't tell me what to think or try to make me more 'politically correct,'" whereas another person may rightfully be tired of being tasked with teaching others. An illustration of this latter sentiment is evident in a blog post by multicultural education scholar Gloria Ladson-Billings, titled "I'm Through." She writes:

I am through acting like I don't notice when I'm the only black person in a room of white people with authority and power; I am through pretending like I don't notice that college football fields and basketball courts are filled with black players earning enormous sums of money for universities that have stadiums and arenas filled with white fans;

I am through indulging comments like, "everything is not about race," when most times it is;

I am through explaining my style — hair, dress, swagger; I am through being your teacher when I am not paid to do so.

Yet another response to racial dehumanization is greater resolve and commitment to social justice. This alternative involves conscious engagement with inequality, prejudice, and racism as a step toward combating them. The #BlackLivesMatter movement is an example of such a response. In the words of founder Alicia Garza, Black Lives Matter is "an ideological and political intervention in a world where Black lives are systematically and intentionally targeted for demise. It is an affirmation of Black folks' contributions to this society, our humanity, and our resilience in the face of deadly oppression." And the commitment to raising consciousness and promoting social justice not only emerges from people who belong in the groups most immediately impacted by racial disparities but from others as well. For example, in 2016 a group of Asian American young people were concerned about their family members' lack of understanding and empathy for the dehumanization of Black lives in the United States, so in an effort to communicate their concerns to their elders, they created a template letter to their family that others could modify and share to increase understanding and empathy. Among other things, the letter stated,

Even as we hear about the dangers Black Americans face, our instinct is sometimes to point at all the ways we are different from them. To shield ourselves from their reality instead of empathizing. When a policeman shoots a Black person, you might think it's the victim's fault because you see so many images of them in the media as thugs and criminals. After all, you might say, we managed to come to America with nothing and build good lives for ourselves despite discrimination, so why can't they?

It's true that we face discrimination for being Asian in this country. Sometimes people are rude to us about our accents, or withhold promotions because they don't think of us as "leadership material." Some of us are told we're terrorists. But for the most part, nobody thinks "dangerous criminal" when we are walking down the street. The police do not gun down our children and parents for simply existing.

I support the Black Lives Matter movement. Part of that support means speaking up when I see people in my community — or even my own family — say or do things that diminish the humanity of Black Americans in this country. I am telling you this out of love, because I don't want this issue to divide us. I'm asking that you try to empathize with the anger and grief of the fathers, mothers, and children who have lost their loved ones to police violence. To empathize with my anger and grief, and support me if I choose to be vocal, to protest. To share this letter with your friends, and encourage them to be empathetic, too.

Although this example illustrates how young people can open lines of communication with their older parents, it is also important to consider how parents and others who have regular contact with young people can foster contexts that support open dialogue about these issues with youth. Though many of us already work hard to emphasize the importance of treating everyone equally — respecting the differences that exist and celebrating the diversity around us — this is not enough. These messages are certainly important, but we must also teach children about the injustices that disproportionately affect members of some groups and not others. For nonminority children, this raises awareness and helps create a space for understanding the experiences of marginalized groups. For minority children, this validates their lived experiences, sends a message that the experiences of injustice are real (not imagined, not blown out of proportion), and that those in more powerful positions of authority (parents, teachers, youth leaders, clergy) are not going to sit by and let these injustices go unnoticed or unaddressed. Everyone benefits from this more transparent approach because, as eloquently stated by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., "No one is free until we are all free."

In this book, we openly discuss many current ethnic-racial disparities and tensions about which conversations are usually stifled. We discuss why these conversations are challenging but also provide ideas for language and approaches to use when engaging in this difficult, yet crucial task with youth. Furthermore, we present information to help readers understand the different developmental capabilities of young people at different ages and what types of conversations and activities can be most effective with children, adolescents, and young adults.

Why Focus on Youth?

From a child development perspective, children have a strong preference for equality and fairness, and they demonstrate an increasing concern for fairness and others' welfare with age. Scholars such as Melanie Killen, Adam Rutland, and their colleagues have shown the prevalence of children's moral concerns regarding equality and justice. Children's moral concerns about fairness and justice are in direct opposition to the realities of various manifestations of inequality in society. As youth become increasingly aware of the disconnect between their moral ideals and the unequal opportunities afforded to non-White Americans, adults have an important choice to make. We can be silent, teach them to blame the victimized groups for the oppression they experience, or choose to have the difficult conversations that expose the imperfections of our society. The last option is likely the most challenging for adults who themselves have not explored these topics in great depth; however, this approach shortchanges youth. To paraphrase noted scholar bell hooks, we cannot empower young people to critically examine the inequalities they perceive in society without personally facing these issues in ways that may make us feel vulnerable, too.

Young people understand this vulnerability all too well. As they mature during the course of adolescence, youth are thrust into a meaning-making process about society's racial and ethnic zeitgeist. They must develop a sense of who they are and who they can be in a deeply conflicted society, and the experiences and knowledge gained during childhood serve as the foundation for this process. Making sense of diversity in a developmentally attentive way involves helping adolescents grapple with the question "Who am I, and how do I fit in this diverse world?" To best foster the development of skills and competencies that will help adolescents make sense of their identities and of the diversity that exists in society in productive ways, adults must engage in the difficult conversations — both among ourselves and with our youth. Indeed, some of the most significant opportunities to engage in these conversations occur during adolescence. During this developmental period, youth gain more freedom to explore the world outside their immediate family and gain the cognitive abilities to think about more complex and abstract social issues, such as racism and societal hierarchies. As one fifteen-year-old Latino male adolescent study participant wrote in response to a survey question asking, "What does your ethnicity mean to you?":

I am proud to be Mexican even if White people (some, not all) might [not] think we are as smart or as equal to them. I love my ethnicity. I love the foods, culture, people, and many more. Some White people out there want us to go back to our country. (I guess they haven't tried our food.) I am proud of my ethnicity and I wouldn't change. It is the best.

As noted in the work of Melanie Killen and her colleagues, without knowledge of how social groups function in relation to one another in a given context, youth are at a loss for understanding why differential treatment based on a particular group membership is unfair and unequal.