DNWA and the Jena 6
Recent events in the small Louisiana town of Jena, symbolized by the Jena 6, raise two questions that Dare Not Walk Alone may help to answer: What is the nature of racism in America today? How can we eradicate racism?
The Nature of Racism in America Today
Most people would agree that racism is less obvious in America today than it used to be. However, if you are black and living in America you know it is still here, even if it is 'just' the suspicious looks you get when you walk into an upscale store, or the flashing lights you see in your rear view mirror as you are pulled over for the all-too-common crime of “driving while black.” America needs to face the fact that racism is still having a debilitating effect on the lives of millions of its citizens.
Fifty years ago, racism was overt and in many ways much easier to identify, as in the “Whites Only” signs posted at hotels and restaurants and beaches. Fifty years ago it was legal to post such signs in some states. That’s one reason why those signs and those states were targeted by people like Martin Luther King and organizations like the NAACP and the SCLC.
Back in 1964, when white people openly attacked black people--in broad daylight and in front of cameras--just for being on a “Whites Only” beach, it was pretty easy to show the world that racism existed. And when you see images of events like that, as you do when you watch Dare Not Walk Alone, it is hard to feel anything but revulsion toward that racism.
Although there are very few Americans today who will publicly defend that kind of racism, it is not clear how many Americans are willing and able to see the main form of racism we have today: institutionalized racism. This is the form of racism that Dare Not Walk Alone documented in St. Johns County, Florida, in the years that followed those beach protests and the passage of the first civil rights act. It is evident in the county’s repeated refusal to accept federal housing funds when they came with an equal opportunity requirement. It is evident in the county’s decision to position Interstate exits so that they isolated the predominantly black business district. It is evident in the county’s lack of African American policemen and fire-fighters. And if you talk to African American families who live in St. Johns County, you will hear innumerable examples of institutionalized racism in the legal system, notably in the disparity of sentencing between black and white defendants.
In others words, institutionalized racism operates, for the most part, within the law and within the legal entities that orchestrate life in our society. Therefore, it seldom produces manifestations of racism as obvious as those “Whites Only” signs.
In many ways, that makes institutionalized racism a lot harder to fight than the overt racism of the last century. And that is why we have the Jena 6. When an overt act of racism is identified today, it quickly becomes a rallying point. At that point, the expression of outrage may become so intense it can seem out of proportion to the underlying facts. This is entirely understandable (to those with a willingness to understand).
If you have an ounce of empathy for the suffering, both economic and emotional, that living with institutionalized racism inflicts upon a person, you will almost certainly sympathize with the need to cry out for change. Indeed, you may join the marches and add your voice to the throng.
But the insidious nature of institutionalized racism is such that many of these rallies, these upsurges of outrage, fail to produce obvious improvements on the scale achieved by protests half a century ago. Why? Because the injustice itself is less obvious. When Martin Luther King and Andrew Young marched through the streets of St. Augustine, Florida, they had a clear goal in sight: a federal law that would make segregated accommodation illegal. And, as documented in Dare Not Walk Alone, their bravery and sacrifice, together with that of their black and white supporters, achieved that goal. The Civil Rights Act of 1964 was passed. Segregated accommodation became illegal. Today it is hard to think of a law you could pass that would make the amount of difference which that one did.
The fact is, laws guaranteeing equality were passed over forty years ago, yet somehow inequality remains. How do we address that?
How Can We Eradicate Racism?
The first step is acknowledging how much damage racism did in the past; the next is realizing how much racism persists today. These steps need to be taken at the personal level and at the institutional level.
Take the example, shown in Dare Not Walk Alone, of one institution in St. Augustine, Florida: a church that refused to allow black people to worship in 1964 (not only refused them entrance to the church but had them arrested and hauled away in paddy wagons).
In 2004 that same church held a service of apology and reconciliation to which it invited the women who had been turned away in 1964. When you watch this service you see that it is possible for people to come together, across racial lines, in both a symbolic and a meaningful way. For example, it is hard to imagine that, if the white adults at that service were teachers at a school, the school would become a place where only white kids were allowed to sit under the shade tree. The white people at the service would not consider the hanging of nooses on a tree a 'prank.'
So, there are signs of hope for an end to racism in that service of apology and reconciliation. Hopeful also is the moving apology read in the film by Bonnie Brock, who was just a young girl when St. Augustine was engulfed in racial strife and her family's motel became the center of the storm.
For this hope to take hold, we have to strive, all of us, to live by principles that lead us forward, toward a better place, a place where people live together in harmony and equality. Those words have been used a lot over the last fifty years, perhaps used so much that we have lost sight of some of their meaning. Racism can only truly be eradicated if people of different races live together. Any future in which people of different races keep to themselves is still a racist future. Living like that only postpones the reconciliation that is needed for racism to be brought to an end. As Dr. King said: "our ultimate goal is integration, which is genuine inter-group and inter-personal living."
Of course, living together in harmony is hard if there is rampant inequality. That is why we need more than a personal commitment to eradicate racism within ourselves, we need to manifest that commitment to equality in our institutions, our jobs, our schools, our churches, our government.
On top of that, we need to recognize that the playing field has not yet been evened out. While it is now theoretically true that a black child has an equal right to a bright future, we have not delivered on that promise in real terms. Consider one example from close to where Dare Not Walk Alone was filmed. The infant mortality rate for black infants in Jacksonville, Florida--host of golf's Players Championship and football's Super Bowl XXXIX--is nearly 18 per 1,000, versus 8 per 1,000 for white infants. This is a pattern repeated across America and it reflects fundamental disparities that often persist beyond infancy.
Now, it is a safe bet that some Americans who read such a statistic have ready explanations, excuses, reasons, call them what you will. "It's all those crack babies" is one that is sometimes voiced. "All those young drug dealer baby mamas" is another. But does the reason for the disparity really matter to the child who starts life without a loving home life supported by a living wage?
People can argue all day long about who is responsible for the current state of affairs. We can blame one group of adults or another. But we can't blame the children. And surely we can sympathize enough with their plight to get past the blame game and move on to a constructive discussion about what we can do to make the future better than the past, for those children, for all of us.
Here are some basic principles to consider:
White people should be prepared to accept black people in their lives, as neighbors, as colleagues, as equals.
Black people should be prepared to accept white people in their lives, as neighbors, as colleagues, as equals.
White people should be prepared to apologize for past racism.
Black people should be prepared to accept that apology and have faith in white people whenever it is justified.
And here is something we tried after the first public screening of Dare Not Walk Alone: If you're white, invite a black family to dinner; if you're black, invite a white family to dinner. It might sound simplistic and you might think it's corny, but it's a start.
At this stage in our nation's history, when it is hard to think of any more laws that we could pass that would put a stop to racism, the only way forward may be through hearts and minds, one heart and one mind at a time.