Reducing My Social Distancing Even While Sheltering in Place

I’m traveling right now even if I have to shelter in place, going to places where I can gain lots of new friends and learn how to be a better friend myself. 

About five years ago, I decided to be more proactive in helping my African American college students stay in class and pass college English.  Many of them were registering for class, but somewhere in the middle of the semester, most, almost all of them, were dropping out or just never showing up again. 

I knew that almost all of our literary canon was white male-based literature, so, for one summer class, I decided to use readings that were all written by African Americans. 

Sure, every American student has read Martin Luther King Jr., but I didn’t just want a typical super star; I wanted my students to read other authors who wrote about other African American experiences.

When you look for it, there is lots of literature written by African Americans, just not generally chosen for the classroom.  Besides Martin Luther King Jr., I picked works by ZZ Packer, Langston Hughes, Melvin Tolson, and Lorraine Hansberry, to name a few. 

To be honest, I was afraid.  I wondered about the young, white men feeling ostracized and getting angry.  I wondered about whether I would even have any African American students in my class who would appreciate my effort.  I feared that I may incur a backlash of negative feedback for my assertive plan, but made the decision, figuring I would never know whether it was a good idea unless I tried. 

This was a summer class at a large community college, which means that my class consisted of not only community college students, but also students from four year colleges who were home for the summer, living with Mom and Dad, and taking some extra classes which are hard to get at their home school.  One white male was a student from U. C. Davis who was majoring in biology so he could go to medical school after Davis.  Two young females, one Asian and one White, were psychology majors home from U. C. L. A.  

Another student came from Oakland; his mother was Filipino and his father was Black.  I didn’t know how he would identify.  Sometimes, this student, let’s call him Moses, didn’t show up.  The class was full, however, and, along with his peers, Moses finally established a rhythm and got to class regularly.

My prediction about the white males feeling insecure was accurate, so our discussions included an analysis of what the suppression of one part of the population reveals about the dominant culture.  Along with learning that a dominant culture usually maintains power with cruelty and self promotion, we discussed what “privilege” was and why it does not promote a just society.

Instead of lecturing in a classroom that is teaching critical thinking, the teacher helps students come up with answers to issues themselves.  I ask open-ended questions; students volunteer answers, build on each other’s words, and finally hash out a thorough analysis. 

So my students figured out what “privilege” was and how it harms society.  They determined that it is when one group is favored over other groups because that group’s “culture” is favored. 

For example, if students in college only study literature written by white-male authors, they will come to think that white males are the only talented members of society.  The white-male authors will be “privileged.” 

Or if an English-speaking and a Spanish-speaking person both need medical care, but only the English patient is able to communicate with the medical professionals, the English-speaking patients will be “privileged” over the Spanish speaking patients; therefore, the Spanish-speaking patients will not have equal access to health care. 

In America, we value equality, but we don’t achieve it when we allow privilege to rule our society.

I’ll come back to this summer class in a while, but I want explain what my next steps were that fall. 

I signed up to participate in a special program called the “Equity Project.”  As part of the program, I had to take a three-hour class each semester to learn about “equity” and then offer 17 hours of additional office hours to help my students achieve more success.

The first thing I learned as part of this program was the difference between “equality” and “equity.”

The word “equality” is always on the tip of the American tongue.  Yet, I now know that I didn’t really understand that the old version of “equality” is just not enough in a country as diversified as ours. 

Equality assumes that everyone is the same, everyone has the same physical capabilities, mental capacities, and economic opportunities, amongst other characteristics.  Americans, however, are not homogeneous.  We are a spectrum of races, a rainbow of genders, a hierarchy of economically endowed peoples, and a collection of internationally-originated cultures.  We are the most diverse assemblage of humans on the planet, and I, for one, love our variety.

If we treat each person as equal, however, they will not be equal.  For example, if we make everyone sit in the exact same type of large wooden chair at a restaurant, children would not be able to reach their plates.  Grandma, who is confined to a wheelchair won’t even be able to sit at the table.  These unfortunate individuals will have to stay at home and not participate in family celebrations held in restaurants. 

I have a another example of this.  Last semester, my freshman English class included a large, bulky, strong, tall African American college football player.  I found out that–let’s call him Noah–Noah was an extremely talented football player who had won some coveted football scholarships, but he still had to keep up with his school work to stay on the team.

Noah, however, wasn’t turning in his writing assignments.  I asked him to come to my office so that I could find out what was going on.  What I found out was that he didn’t have a computer at home or wifi, two requirements that he needed to type his essays and post them to our course’s electronic site. 

If I hadn’t intervened and worked with his coach to loan him a computer and find him a wifi hotspot, this student would have failed.  I didn’t do this for any other students; they didn’t need it.  For Noah, I used “differential intervention” to help this economically disadvantaged student get what he needed to succeed. 

What I was practicing is “equity.”   I was getting Noah what he needed to create fairness for him.  Another word to substitute for fairness is “justice.” 

As I continued to participate in the Equity Project, I signed up for my three hour classes every semester.  Finally, last fall, the instructor of my equity course was a professor from Foothill Community College in Cupertino, California.  I remember she sported a ready smile; coifed her hair in short, tight black curls; wore frayed jeans and an attractive black blouse; and once worked in Human Resources for the giant, nearby Livermore Lab as an intern.  Let’s call her Sandra.

Sandra taught me about “cultural humility.”  When I heard the word, I stopped taking notes and just looked up at her–she put into words what I had been searching for my whole life.

Sandra explained that “cultural humility” is a social attitude that is other-oriented.  In order to engage in cultural humility, I have to look at the world from the other person’s perspective—and what could be more loving than that?

Cultural humility is the antithesis of “privilege.”  Instead of promoting the status or beliefs of myself, I take a humble stance and stay open to the possibility that other people’s opinions, needs, ethics, and perspectives are as valuable as my own.

I can engage in cultural humility for the rest of my life because to understand the perspectives of everyone else will take forever. 

My journey to cultural humility is not only good for the others in the world, but also for me.  While I am learning about the morals and viewpoints of others, I will reflect on my own values and how I formed them and how I can change them to become a better person.  Through my participation in this quest, I can grow and develop beneficial relationships and release judgmental attitudes that only cause privilege and injustice. 

Now back to that summer class.  Moses wasn’t my best student.  The biology student from U. C. Davis probably was.  Yet, when the class was over and all the students walked and skipped out of the classroom, Moses was standing in front of me. 

“Thank you for teaching my culture,” he said.  “That has never happened to me before.  Because you chose those readings, I got intrigued, stuck around, and now I’ve passed the class.  I got a “C,” but it’s the best class I’ve ever taken.  I’ll never forget this summer.”

Wow.  Long before I even knew the term for cultural humility, I was on the right path. 

Now that I have to shelter in place, I have even more time to reduce my social distance from others, and when this persistent Corona Virus has waned, my passion for achieving cultural humility will have kept my hope for equitable living alive and vibrant.