The Disconnect

photo by Amani Wanzala

With recent events, it has been challenging for me to waver my attention from anything other than the Black Lives Matter Movement. The degradation and dehumanization of Black life at the hands of the police goes far beyond just the police force and is deeply rooted in the majority of us. The disregard for people of color is systemic in our society, a society which has been severely uneducated on these issues for far too long. As a young white female living in Canada, I have never and will never, because of the colour of my skin, face the same treatment Black men, women, and children face every day. I will never be scared getting pulled over while driving, I will never be concerned that I will be hunted down when out for a run, I will never worry that I won’t be able to breathe because a cop has his knee is on my neck and I will never know the feeling of being treated any less than human because of the colour of my skin. And that, I have come to realise, is white privilege. I worry about doing a disservice to the issue at hand, and in all honesty from both my white privilege and unintentionally myself, I feel I have been shielded from ever previously becoming fully educated on the severity of the issues of racism Black people face today. Despite this, I thought I would write about this complex issue concerning white privilege and how I grew up as a white kid living in a predominately white neighbourhood, shielded from the reality of racism towards Black people that goes on in both Canada and predominantly America. To do that I feel I need to write about the root of my ignorance, naivety, and the school system that failed to educate me fully to the extent necessary. I am not in any way trying to place full blame on the school system for my lack of knowledge on Black people, their history, and the ongoing oppression they face. However, I strongly believe there was a lack in teaching about the ongoing history of racism and racial slurs targeted towards Black people that my school didn’t provide to me and others in order to have a complete and thorough understanding of the issues faced by Black people. The only way I know how to overcome and write about white privilege is in a way that I feel is honest, raw, and from my personal experience. 

I grew up in a Canadian suburb known across Canada for its wealth and hierarchical society. It’s a community, like many, that flourishes off of scandal and gossip. It’s a place many can't wait to leave, but nobody really can, due to the memories that always stay with us. Memories of family dinners spent at the country club or yearly family vacations to Maui. It’s a town built for people with cars, as in most cases the nannies who commute from other areas are the ones who take the buses. On the inside, the community is a bubble. A cozy, clean, wealthy bubble that never seems to get popped. It glistens in the sunlight, reflecting off the ocean and in through the windows of our large, glass homes. We protect our bubble, it’s our home, our saviour, as its translucent film shields us from the realities of the outside world that rages around us. From the outside, in reality the bubble we call home is a blistering sore. Instead of focusing on real issues, it seems here we tend to centre our attention on petty scandals that hold little relevance to the outside world. Despite our flaws, no matter how selfish they may seem at times, this community raised me, building me into the person I am today. It taught me to accept, to love, to cherish, and to be myself. I couldn’t be more thankful for every single amazing individual I have grown up with.  

A friend of mine within the community recently asked me “How did your school teach you about the N-word, or did they?” Never having been asked this I was shocked to realize I was never educated, or ever recall being educated on the word and its painful origins. I was disturbed to realize my school had failed to teach me about the severity of the word and the effects it had and continues to have on the people it degrades. Through research and self-education, I found out the N-word is synonymous with oppression, execution, and subordination. It was a word used by white slave owners to describe and reference their Black slaves, who were viewed and treated as inhuman. Previously, I understood it was pejorative but didn’t realize the full extent the visceral reaction it causes for Black people by bringing back the terrible history of slavery and the repercussions it had and continues to have. As stated in “Uncomfortable Conversations with a Black Man” on IGTV, someone who has a white complexion shouldn’t ever have the desire to use the word, even when quoting a rap song or movie, as it is synonymous with so much hatred. He further states it is alright for Black people to use it because they have taken this evil word and turned it into something endearing for themselves.

Feeling personally left in the dark by my school's education system I was interested to know if I was the only one who felt this way. After asking friends of mine who attended the same school, I was informed some were in fact educated to a small degree, but others like myself were not. After doing some research I have come to realize it’s a grey area, unique to each individual, the school and its teachers failing to educate some more than others. I wonder, why did my school not feel the need to make sure everyone was more informed about racism and racial slurs? Maybe it’s because of the extremely low percentage of Black people in the community, partly due to systemic racism, that the school felt we didn’t need to be fully educated on the word. From my school’s failure to educate some of its students, it would be naïve to not predict that there would be repercussions. The repercussions I am referring to include the instance that occurred at my school in 2017. A grade eleven boy wrote an email containing a racial slur with allegedly no intent to send, however, was accidentally sent to our newly appointed Black headmaster. The full contents of the email are unknown to me, however, what I do know is the N-word was used. Actions were taken immediately and the boy was punished to the degree the school and the board felt sufficient. Which leads me to wonder who is the school and the board -who the boy’s father was a member- of predominantly white people to say whether the punishment for a word that causes them no pain is sufficient enough or not? Sadly, as students, rather than asking questions to better educate ourselves on the word, many of us quickly became absorbed into the gossip and rumours of the scandal. Among the community many find it still a sore wound; however, I felt the need to talk about it and the disconnect of the school not educating everyone properly and its failure to teach its students on such important issues. Would the boy have written the email if the school hadn’t failed to sufficiently educate him on the word? The saddest part of it all was the school’s failure to take this horrific incident and use it as a way to educate the student body, which left me and my fellow students in the dark.

I am intrigued as to where the disconnect occurs. Why do schools like mine not see the need to educate their students on racism against Black people and racial slurs like the N-word? Especially when in communities like mine that hugely reflect systemic racism towards First Nations who are oppressed, discriminated, and disenfranchised in Canada. Another pressing conversation to be had. I ask myself and you reading this, what could our school systems do better to help educate students about racism, racial slurs, and white privilege? This is a conversation that is surely needed to move forwards in eliminating systemic racism and the devaluation of human life occurring in Canada, the United States, and all over the globe. If your school isn’t doing anything to help educate you, it’s time to take the opportunity to educate yourself and to remember: silence is compliance. Go online, read a book, watch a movie, better understand white privilege. If you are white use that privilege to fight for equality. Our generation of young people has the capability to stand up and be the change. I pray one day everyone will be seen as equal, but until that day I urge you and myself to stand for what is right alongside those whose voices are not heard.