By Roberta Nin Feliz
Raised in the Bronx in a black and Latino area, I only interacted with white people if they were teachers in my school. As a teenager, I was exposed to more white people while in the subway car going to different areas of the city, or by joining different programs. The nationwide social studies curriculum forces kids to study European history and how the white man did so many great things for America. I grew up feeling that white history was the only kind of history that mattered; which established the white man as the primary example of how an ideal American should look and behave. This summer, immersed in the Cooper Union STEM program, I first thought I was going to get to know a lot of white teenagers my age and be able to develop a more informed opinion about white people. But instead, for the most part, I learned more about my own race and education.
Initially I was surprised by how stereotypes seemed to fit the kids in the summer program so well. There was the “I love Starbucks” white girl, and to say the least, the “racially insensitive” kid. Comments like “No brown people allowed” were jokingly said by one of these kids. As I got to know them, I realized that there was a difference between white kids from New York and white kids from New Jersey. The ones from New Jersey seemed to me the most racially ignorant. One time we got into an argument about why “Hispanic” is a group of people not a race; but this one kid wouldn’t understand that there’s a difference between Latinos and Hispanics.
At other times, it was apparent how uncomfortable this same kid seemed in the presence of black people on the train. I jokingly asked if he was afraid of them, and he said he was. They also didn’t know that kids of my race don’t always get the opportunity to be a part of prestigious programs like the one held at Cooper Union. Not that I blame the kids for thinking that way, or not knowing enough; but it was awkward and surprising at times to come to the realization that there are kids like this in the world. Part of this lack of knowledge is due to our educational system, which has failed kids nationwide. We only learn about European history and this system doesn’t educate students about other races. It’s not that big of a problem to white kids who live in all white towns, but for minority kids, it means growing up not knowing who we are.
Luckily, Cooper Union held an assembly during which some of the Tuskegee Airmen came to visit and talk about their experience. The Tuskegee Airmen were the first African-American aviators during World War II. Their job was to protect bomber planes. When escorted by the Tuskegee Airmen, not one bomber plane was shot down. I sat in awe and leaned forward in my seat as they told us about their encounters with racism in America. Among them was Dabney Montgomery, who besides being an airman, also fought in the Civil Rights Movement alongside Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. When asked why they fought for America despite the way they were treated, Julius Freeman, the youngest of the Tuskegee Airmen, said that they wanted to fight against the unjust system that was in place.
As they told us about their experiences, I could hear “mm”s and “amen”s coming from the African-American women attending. I couldn’t believe that I had never learned about the Tuskegee Airmen in school, and when they asked if any of the STEM program students had any questions, I was the only one to raise my hand. I spoke about my experience as a young Latina in the public school system and how I never learned about them or about many African-American achievements. I went on to say that in a typical history book, slavery takes up about two pages and I never felt like I was properly educated on black history or Latino history. I asked them to give me advice on how to learn more about African-American and Latino history. William Johnson responded by saying that African-American history, like the story of the Tuskegee Airmen, should be a part of mainstream history. Richard Braithwaite, on the other hand, felt that we have made a lot of progress since slavery, and that I could always use the internet to become more informed about history. When I sat down, everyone was clapping for me.
Afterwards, three educators came up to me and told me my question was wonderful. They shared resources I could use to become more informed and spoke to me about their experience as educators. Once we left for the reception, my friend (who was white) and I went to the bathroom where she confided: “I feel like everyone was judging me for being white.” She felt that all of the talk about black people and their struggle ostracized her. Now, this is an idea I’ve explored in my mind many times. We talk about the white man controlling us all the time and of course white privilege exists. But what about all of the good, non-racist white people in the world? Besides, my friend told me that although she lives in an all-white town, no one is racist. In fact, the kids in her school don’t tolerate a racist kid. And when we had that talk about why Hispanic is not a race, she was on my side about it. I will never understand her struggles as a white girl. I couldn’t help but feel annoyed that she should feel like an outcast because others are mourning their struggles and pain. I don’t see why my mourning should cause someone else discomfort or displacement. The struggles minorities face could never be understood by whites, and we have all transcended many painful events to arrive where we are today, where some of that pain still exists.
Being a part of that program opened my eyes to a world outside of the one I live in with Blacks and Latinos. People of all races have the right to mourn their pain and struggles, whether they involve slavery, segregation, lynching or discrimination. We are all human and we hurt the same. This experience taught me that it’s not about the color of your skin, where you live, or the money your family has, it’s about who you are as a person. I hope the color of my skin doesn’t make me more susceptible to bigotry or pity, but to understanding. There should be more healing and less mourning if we plan to move forward. This healing should begin in schools. We should teach more Black and Latino history. As young people, we should be informed about those who came before us, their accomplishments, failures, and goals, so that we can become better, and move forward into a better tomorrow.