35 minutes in the car each morning to work.

35 minutes in the car each evening back home.

This leaves a lot of time to think. Lately in the mornings while I’m feeling the effects of my morning energy drink my mind floats around and has landed on Trayvon Martin.  The image of Trayvon with his father or the image of a close up of Trayvon’s face shows up across my mind’s movie screen. I can’t wash them from my mind. Part of me wants to and another part knows I can’t forget.


If I sit on this memory too long, I picture Trayvon lying in the wet grass as blood and life pour out of him and I wonder how scared he must have felt; how alone he must have felt. The realization that his young life was evaporating must have been terrifying. If I sit on this memory too long, my sons replace him on the cold wet grass and that picture, that image is too much. If I sit on this memory too long the tears easily overflow my eyes and run down my cheeks.  I force myself to think about something else; to much—too sad.

His Black life mattered.

From Trayvon my thoughts take flight and land on a street corner in New York and I hear Eric Gardner say over and over, “I can’t breathe!” I recall the time when I was 10 and fell off a skateboard and knocked the wind out of myself. I remember the fear that seized me when I realized I couldn’t inhale. I wonder if that is the same feeling Eric had. I wonder if he knew death sat on the corner next to him that day.

His Black life mattered.


From Eric my thoughts are airborne again and land on a porch in the early morning hours in Dearborn Heights Michigan, a suburb of Detroit. There I picture Ranisha McBride knocking on a stranger’s door asking for help after she had a car accident. I wonder if she hard the gun that was fired through the screen door before she was hit in the face.

Her Black life mattered.


My thoughts take flight again, from Ranisha to John Crawford, to Oscar Grant, to Michael Brown, to Jordan Davis, and land on young Tamir Rice. My thoughts sit on the shoulder of little Tamir and I watch him play in the lonely park. I imagine he envisions himself a police officer hunting bad guys as we swings his toy gun around. I see the police car pull up and before the car stops Tamir is dropped to the ground shot once. Another young boy on the cold ground as his young life pours out of him. Another young boy alone dying afraid, terrified, hurt, confused.

His young Black life mattered.


All lives matter!

That is often the retort when there is a Black Lives Matter protest, or sit in or when a Facebook profile picture is changed to show support of the Black Lives Matter movement. I wonder why the retort is necessary.

From the all Lives matter retort my thoughts drift to other causes. Tomorrow starts October; Breast Cancer Awareness month. This weekend NFL players will accent their uniforms with pink to show their support. For the next four weeks attention will be drawn to  Breast Cancer and  Breast Cancer awareness. People will share stories of pain and triumph centered on  Breast Cancer but I won’t hear the retorts. Those that champion Autism or Alzheimer’s won’t defiantly say, OUR CAUSE MATTERS TOO! It won’t be said because being aware of one cause doesn’t mean other causes aren’t important. It won’t be said because saying something like that would be seen as insensitive; it would be seen as unnecessary. Of course your cause is important and by me saying my cause is important doesn’t mean other causes aren’t important.

In the conversation on race, when it doesn’t appear Black Lives are valued, when I express Black Lives Matter, an ally would simply respond, “Yes they do!” In these 6 words, all are heard and all are understood, no one is diminished, and no one’s cause trumps another.

Jordan Davis

Jordan Davis

John Crawford III

John Crawford III

Michael Brown

Michael Brown

Oscar Grant

Oscar Grant

Several times a week my family and I will catch an episode of The Family Feud, hosted by one of my favorite people, comedian Steve Harvey. @IAmSteveHarvey As we sit in our living room, we unconsciously choose sides, and root from one team over the other. In most cases, when there is a white family playing against a black family, we root for the black family. When my wife and I were talking a few weeks ago she used this as an example of bias. Initially, I was taken aback. I thought to myself, “No I am not that shallow. I root for the team who is better, who is smarter, and who has a better personality.”


But then I reviewed who I aligned with in reality shows or other competitions and she was right. The one thing that came back over and over was race. I sided with the competitors who look like me. In them I see me. I connect with them on a subconscious level which it translates to “they are better, they are smarter, and they have a better personality.” The developmental term for it is “in-group preference;” in simple terms: I prefer those in the group that represent me and attribute to them characteristics I have no way of verifying. How do I know if a family is smarter over another by watching them on TV for 10 seconds? I don’t! But I identify with them.

Bias is defined as “a preference for one thing over another.” When we are talking about a game show or a reality show my bias seems innocent and harmless. The world will not stop spinning if I think Rueben Studdard is a better singer than Clay Aiken. The world is still a safe place even if I think Serena Williams is a better tennis player than Chris Evert. In that context, when there isn’t much at risk, my bias is pretty innocent. But what if that bias bleeds in to other areas?

When I was in my early 30’s I was a mid-level manager for a large insurance company. I was responsible for hiring several new employees. There were interviews that I conducted where I felt I had a better connection with some candidates more than others. I told myself that they had a better, more outgoing personality. I told myself this person’s personality would be a better fit in our office. I told myself this person had the ability to provide better customer service. Of the candidates I hired about half of them were black.

During my training as a manager I was taught that when we hire we should try and hire a population that reflect the area where the office is located.  According to those criteria my minority hires were 30% above where they should have been. But I found ways to justify them. My justification was so layered and thick that I didn’t realize what I did until I began thinking about writing this piece 25 years after I made the hires. Even when realizing it I justified it by saying I was making up for the imbalance that was created before me. It is a sentiment that is rooted is justice but less accurate than I care to admit. In all honesty,    I found a way to make those hires work and fit.

When I was unemployed a few years ago, I sat down with the director of the human resources department at a fortune 500 company. He was a fellow church member and he agreed to help me with my interviewing skills. The first thing he told me about interviewing for a job still sticks with me.

“In the interview, you have got to get the decision maker to see you as someone they will want to spend 8 hours a day with during the week.” He told me.  He was trying to get me to see the interview from the other side of the table and he admitted a lot of the decision making process comes down to, “Do I like this person enough to spend my work day with them?” What goes into this important decision are even more questions.  Do I feel a connection with this person? Do we have anything in common? Are our experiences similar? In answering those questions, which I feel is all done subconsciously; we make a lot of assumptions based on our biases. In-group preference joins the decision making and often the people we hire are more like us than we realize. So white guys hire white guys and black-mid-level-managers hire as many like them as they can because the more people I work with like me, the quicker my 8 hours will go by.

I really don’t think the majority of people in the world are racist.   I have to believe that because that makes my life one of hope rather than despair. I think we all have biases and those biases are acted upon unconsciously. I don’t think people say, “I’m not gonna hire any Black people today!”  Rather than say, I won’t hire black people, I think many go into the hiring process hoping to be fair but are conned by their biases to hire people who are most like them; people they are comfortable around. Often times comfort is defined along racial line.

So what do we do? In the conversation around race we have to get honest and admit we have biases and then we construct a system that protects us against ourselves. In this instance, we bring in several people of different backgrounds to help in the interview process and decision making. By doing this our biases fight it out, our biases are challenged, and our biases are kept in check. Having bias I don’t think is wrong because we can’t control that. What is wrong is not admitting we have them and then allowing them to change the world….or keep it the same.


Arriving about 30 minutes early  for my meeting I choose to run over to the Cabela’s sporting goods store nearby to marvel at the large selection of animals that are positioned in scenes that make you feel like you are in the forest, jungle, or desert. It is a treat for me to visit a store like this because I’m not a hunter. I like to explore things I’m not familiar with and I get lost in the camouflage, the deer stands, the camping gear, the meat preparation tools, and the animal traps. Before I know it I am now late for my meeting. I turn and walk briskly by the elephant, the tiger, the deer, the rams, and many animals I don’t recognize. In less than 5 minutes I arrive at Bob Evans and find my friend of over 40 years, Mike, sipping coffee and checking his phone for emails at a small table for two. We embrace with a man-hug and I sit down across from him.

We exchange stories of family, talk about our careers, share our concerns with the state of our Detroit Lions and 15 minutes evaporates before we look up. In those 15 minutes the waitress fails to stop by our table. I did notice her floating from table to table around us like a bee pollinating flower after flower but never put much weight in the lack of attention she is paying to us. I am too engrossed in catching up with a good friend. Mike notices it and points it out to me and calls the waitress over. I order an orange juice and Mike and I decide to look over the menu and advise her we need more time.

We dive back into our exchange and another 15 minutes floats by and the waitress fails to pollinate our table…again. Mike is now furious and speechless. He comment s on how attentive she was before I arrived. It must be stated that Mike is white, we are in Dundee Michigan, which is a very White city and I am black and the only person with such a rich skin tone in the restaurant. We both know why the level of service has quickly declined and neither of us is shocked. As a person of color I‘m accustomed to this type of treatment and my level of irritation is well below Mike’s. He can’t complete sentences as we talk about why we are being purposefully ignored. “Can you believe this?” He asks me. “Yep, it happens all the time. I’m used to it.” Today,  I’m not in the mood to fight it. Today, I am not in the mood to dissect it and today I just want it to go away. No matter how often it happens there’s always some element of surprise. This wasn’t something I was expecting to have served with my pancakes. I fight to not concentrate too hard on it because it has the power to ruin my day and I don’t want to concede that power today.

Mike is at a loss and upset about what is happening and feels compelled to do something. He gets up and goes to the front counter and asks for our waitress. He advises her we are ready to order. She follows him back to the table and we order. She never returns after the food comes out to check on us, refill our coffee, or ask if we need anything. Finally, when she returns to the table to drop off the bill she appears this small act is like scaling Mount Everest. The energy and attention this requires is obviously a burden to her. Mike looks at me with a look of disbelief and is once again speechless. His reflexes are still intact though because he is able to grab the bill before I do. He insists on paying and won’t let me argue.

Ironically, our purpose of the meeting was to discuss a project we were working on that had to do with the conversation of race and poverty and the effects of both. Part of me expected Alan Funt of Candid Camera or John Quinones of What Would You Do to come out. It was that over to top, that unbelievable. I was sure someone was playing a joke on us.

We both gather our keys and phones from the table and walk to the front where the cash register is located. Mike states he will meet me outside after he pays and I think this is strange and can’t help but feel dismissed. I leave, he pays and we meet out at his car. He apologizes for what happened over our pancakes and I tell him he has nothing to apologize to me for. He shares with me that he wanted me to leave so he could have a conversation with the person behind the register. He told the young lady he would not be leaving our waitress a tip because of the treatment we received. He made it clear this was obviously racially motivated and that is how we interpreted it. He shared the waitress will no doubt deny this but advised this was our experience in their establishment. When stated this way it closes the door for the typical rebuttal that would argue we misinterpreted the waitresses actions.

On the ride home I had mixed feeling about the exchange. I was upset that it happened. I was upset that this exchange tarnished an otherwise great reunion. I was upset and conflicted with what Mike did. Part of me felt small almost childlike because someone was speaking up for me and I was triying to sort out how that made me feel. Part of me felt honored that Mike choose to say something on a day where I wasn’t up for fighting it and part of me felt that I didn’t need someone to stand up for me.

Often, I get asked what Whites can do to counteract racism and quickly I respond, “Be an ally.” That day in Bob Evans, Mike was an ally and he did the right thing. He knew the impact of two whites having a conversation about an obvious racially motivated action would be more powerful just between the two of them. In that conversation he clearly stated, “I saw what you did and there is no way for you to convince me otherwise.” There was a level he could take the conversation that I couldn’t. If I would have complained they very likely would just dismiss me as the uber-sensitive Black guy. Here is where the power of an ally is most concentrated.  When I came to that understanding it was easier to step back; It was easier for me to be humble and push ego out of the way. I had to realize I can’t request help in one conversation and then when I get it be uncomfortable for getting what I asked for.

So what does an ally look like? It requires whites to do what people of color can’t always do. It means being courageous enough to pull other whites to the side and call them out on their racism. As a white person, the impact you can have with others like you can be more impactful. As a person of color I have to  understand and trust that when I request the assistance of allies I must be humble enough to let them do work where I can’t and understand that doesn’t make me a child or child-like.  Some times I have to concede my ego in hopes of a bigger change.


Ten days ago I sat in a dark movie theater with my 15 year old son and my wife and watched the movie, Straight Outta Compton. It is a movie that portrays the rise and fall of the rap group N.W.A.


For those of you who aren’t into rap don’t stop reading because this movie had less to do with rap and more to do with history.

The movie brought back such vivid memories of the late ‘80s.  It took me back to where I was and how I was feeling as a young Black man in this country.   I had just graduated from Alma College in Alma Michigan and I was angry. Growing up in Detroit I assumed the world was like Detroit. I assumed people of color were abundant and at 18 I felt the obsession the adults had about race was overblown. Then I stepped foot on the white campus of Alma College. It was culture shock and a rude awakening that as a young Black male my voice was not wanted. At the time the student body at Alma was about 1100 students and of the 1100 students 13 of us were Black. I quickly understood what being a minority was about and more importantly I felt what that meant. Me and 12 other students were so out-numbered and such a minority that the school and its population didn’t have to listen to us, didn’t care to listen to us and didn’t know how to listen to us. It was a crash course in what being a minority in this country truly feels like.

I’m sure anyone who went to college with me would read this and be shocked that I saw that experience as I did and how I express it now. I’m sure most would say that I got along fine in that setting. But what most don’t understand is the weight and burden that comes with being a minority in a majority setting. Many don’t understand that the daily microaggressions slowly add up and as Marvin Gay sang, “makes me want to holler, they way they do my life.” I wanted to holler quite often in an environment that was a vacuum.

Up to this point, I lived in a city that had a Black Mayor, Black Police Chief, and majority Black population. There was rarely, if ever, a day in my first 18 years that I didn’t see someone else who looked like me. My college experience was the mirror image of my Detroit experience and it created a rage in me I can’t describe. I couldn’t wait to put in my 4 years and return home to Detroit.

The problem was after that awakening, I was changed. My eyes were open to the inequalities I was blind to and although I returned to a city whose membership mostly matched my skin color, I was still angry; angry at how I and people like me were viewed by the majority; Angry that my college life was a reflection of a larger society.

It was about this time that there was an outcry from the Black community about the unfair “war on drugs” that disproportionately arrested and harassed people of color. It was about this time that the unfair treatment towards people of color by police officers was approaching a boiling point. It was this time that the rage I felt was boiling and I needed a release. It was about this time that the rap group, NWA began to share life from their experiences. It was about this time, Spike Lee and John Singleton; two very talented film makers, were making films that spoke to the Black experience. In film and music they all were speaking, rapping, and showing what I was feeling. It was about this time that I felt heard. I needed that. I needed to feel heard.

The movie, Straight Otta Compton, brought all that back; all that angst; all that rage; all that despair! It did what movies should do. It forced me to remember something I shouldn’t have forgotten. It brought me back to 211 degrees; one degree shy of boiling.  The movie made me remember and feel all that was going on in the early 90s. Then it happened as we sat on 211 degrees.


The video of the Rodney King beating was released pushing the temperature to 211.5 degrees. The acquittal of the police officers involved in the beating pushed the needled to 212 and all hell broke lose and Los Angeles burned. For some it appeared to come out of nowhere but the foot prints were there edging closer and closer to 212.

What scares me is today we are back at 211 degrees. The needle spiked with Trayvon Martin and each additional incident pushes us towards 212. It has been 23 years since the LA riots which occurred 25 years after the ’67 Detroit riots. The needle is moving as is history and once again we sit on the edge of our 20 to 30 year cycle in this country. Every 20 to 30 years a generation has enough and somewhere the needle hits 212. The foot prints are there.


As I stated, Straight Otta Compton, has more to do with history than rap music. It is a warning that we are again at this familiar cross roads and if we don’t do anything to stop it the country will shake AGAIN because a group is screaming to be heard. As always, many will wonder where this came from while stepping over the foot prints that told us it was coming.

So what can be done?  We can’t ignore the rumbling pot on the stove.  We have to begin to have an honest conversation about race.  Talking about the uncomfortable will quiet the pot and settle the water.


Last week I wrote a blog to parents which addressed advocating for their children of color. Many passed it along to their schools and school districts which I thought was great. It occurred to me it might be helpful to give schools something they can use and have on hand to refer to when an incident that involves “othering,” occurs. This can and should be used to address not only racial othering but ANY kind of incident where a child is made to feel less than based on the fact they are different.   I would simply encourage the schools to B.E. K.I.N.D.D. (D.)

Parents feel free to pass along to  your schools.

B. Be proactive and beat the story home.

There is nothing more frustrating for a parent than to hear their child has been othered in some way and an incident occurred during the day and the first they hear about it is when their child comes home often in tears.

When an incident occurs contact the parents immediately! A lot of the frustration that I have experienced when my children have been the victim of bias and racism stems from the inaction of the school. Never was I called and warned what went on during the day to prepare me for the condition my child would be in when he came home.

If you don’t have a plan as to what to do when an incident occurs create one! The sin of inaction is hard to forgive.

E. Expect the “isms” and the ‘ists!”

Expect that parents will come to the school and claim racism, sexism, gender-ism, class ism etc. Expect a teacher, a staff member, your administration, your district may be called racist, sexist etc. Brace for it and stay in the conversation.

No one wants to be referred to in this way and often when these terms are used it is very easy to dismiss as not applying to you, your administration, your teachers, and your district. Stay engaged avoid dismissing and make a point to tune in and not turn off.  Understand your response to these accusations is being monitored. Any rolling of the eyes, dramatic exhaling, or any avoidance at all will make the possibility of a resolution much more difficult.

K. Kind actions and words are critical.

When an incident occurs parents will be emotional which is to be expected. Apologize sincerely for what they and their child are going through.

“I’m sorry to hear your child was made to feel this way,” is received better than no response at all. Remember your livelihood is built on caring for children; show that you care.

I. Intentions don’t matter.

Arguing or debating the intent behind an offense only causes further offense. Again, show you care about what the child and the family are going through more than you care about being right. Justifying behavior that has been interpreted as offensive only adds to the offense. Explaining that the child or parents are chasing mythological notions can be seen as dismissive and will never resolve the issue. It would only add bacteria to the open wound causing the wound to be infected and harder to treat.

N. Never return a jab with a jab.

The initial meeting with parents after the incident will set the stage for how and if the incident will get resolved. Understand the parents are hurt and their hurt may present itself in ways that are meant to hurt. It is critical to not attack back. Do not defend, dismiss or deflect. This initial meeting is where you listen more than talk. Your role is to gather facts and information. Also understand, this incident may only be one of many and now this is the parent’s chance to vent and release tension from many other incidents you were not aware of until this time. This frustration being released could be the result of several incidents that span several years.  If things get too heated, call for a break. When you return from the break come back committed to being engaged in the conversation.

D. Determine what is the next course of action.

Let the parents know you would like to follow up on this and will get back in touch with them and give them a specific time frame and stick to it. Give specific, measurable tasks that you will do and report back on.  Don’t let time erode your desire to get this resolved.  Understand how you handle this incident will effect future incidents. If you show you are committed to acting on such incidents it will make future incidents easier. Parents do talk to other parents and your reputation is growing; either positively or negatively.

The opposite is also true. If you are frozen in inaction you will gain the reputation of not caring and not acting which will make future incidents even more difficult to resolve because you will actually be expected to address not only this incident but all other past incidents you never resolved.

D. Diversity teams should be just that; DIVERSE.

If your school has a diversity team or council make plain what their role is and make sure it is diverse. Do not pawn off the responsibility of resolving incidents to this team. That should be handled by administrators.

The diversity team should function much different than any other group. I will assume this group is very diverse if it isn’t you will struggle with diversity of thought and perspective and will really just be a waste of time. The minority groups that are represented MUST be seen as subject matter experts and their experiences and input are paramount. Majority will not and should not rule in this group.



D.  Diversity audits should be done on a regular basis.

There is an exhaustive amount of literature available that shows children of color are disciplined at a disproportionate rate compared to those in the majority. To guard against this a simple practice should be put in place. A review of who is suspended, who is given detentions, who is given in school suspensions etc. should be done.   The population that is reprimanded should equal your school population. Therefore, if your African American school population is 10% there is no reason why more than 10% of your children reprimanded are African American. If it is then your system of punishment is disproportionate to your population and action should be done to correct it.  Digging in and investigating why this is happening is not an easy task and the reasons behind it may be too much to handle for some schools, but we owe it to our kids to answer the hard questions and change.

BE KINDDD! Be proactive! Be humble! Be committed to creating an environment where all feel heard and respected.


Children will soon, if they haven’t already, fill the halls, cafeterias, and school play grounds as they adjust to the rigors of another school year. As a parent my hope is always the same in late August/early September of every year. I hope my boys do well and I hope they are treated fairly. I pray that no incidents will occur where my children are “othered.” I pray that this school years brings fond memories, bonding with peers, and positive relationships with teachers and administrators. Above all else I pray this is the year I stay out of the principal’s office and continue to stay out of jail. There have been a few incidents in past years where my children were called niggers and it felt like I was a constant fixture in the principals office, and I considered long and hard whether a swift and accurate punch was worth losing my freedom.

Since those incidents I thought long and hard about how to advocate for my children especially when an incident occurs, especially in a school system that is ill-prepared to handle such offensive gestures. Below is my gift to parents; a plan for advocacy when the unspeakable happens. It is a plan I wish I had thought of prior to the frustration we went through as a family.

Simply put; get S.C.R.E.W.E.D. Make sure to tighten things down and advocate for your child.

  1. Schedule a meeting. When an incident occurs or when you feel your child is being treated unfairly or being mistreated do something. Trust your “Spidey” senses as a parent. If it doesn’t feel right investigate. The microaggressions can wound just as much as explicit racism.
  2. Calm and controlled you must be—the battles you choose– do so wisely! If you can’t keep it in check now is not the time to meet. Kicking down the door of the school although it would feel GREAT, will not give you the results you are looking for for your child. It may also threaten your freedom.

As a parent of a child of color you must learn you can’t attack every offense. One reason being it would just be too exhausting. Choose which battles are worth fighting. If you storm the school at every side-ways glance demanding someone be fired you will be dismissed as the crazy parent and no one will take you seriously.

  1. Resist the urge to scream racism. The mere utterances of the words “racist” or “racism” bring the conversation to a halt. No school or administration sees themselves or their staff as racist. Racism and racist brings up images of a Confederate flag waving, moon-shine smuggling, back-woods boy from the south which in no way reflects your school district. You again will be dismissed as irrational. Instead use hot button-contemporary words and phrases.

When an incident occurs you could say,  “I think my child has been the victim of racism.” Many hear racism and close their ears to what comes next because they know THEY are not racist. Instead say something like, “I feel as if my child is being bullied and this is affecting his self-esteem.” Bullying and its impact on a child’s self esteem cause the ears of the school to stand up. Know what your school’s hot buttons are and use them to your advantage.

  1.  Expect the “intentions” debate. “Mr. Hofmann, I understand you feel your child has been treated unfairly but his teacher’s intention wasn’t to make him feel bad. Some times our children have to develop tougher skin.”

Often the argument is we didn’t intend for your child to feel that way so we take no responsibility in that. Your child must get tougher and there is no issue. Don’t fall for this okey doke!

Early in my marriage I would say and do some selfish and insensitive things. When my wife pointed them out my response was I didn’t intend it that way and I would wash my hands of the offense. That didn’t make my wife feel better and it didn’t correct the problem. Intentions don’t matter when someone is offended. The offending party needs to be made aware of the offensive behavior so they don’t continue to offend. Blaming the offended party is a cop-out. Prepare for this response and don’t get conned in to debating intentions. Bring to light how the offense made your child feel. Schools do care about the child they service and this should get more positive attention.

  1. Work for change but understand it is a slow process. The temptation is to fight city hall to create change but by doing so you fail to resolve the issue your child is having NOW. Work to resolve this one issue then once resolved work for system change. Be selfish!   Make things better for your child FIRST then work on overall change. Also keep in mind it is not your job to organize a diversity team, conference or educate the district. Again, avoid the bam boozlement!
  2. Experience this with your child. When there was an incident with my youngest son I wanted to storm the school, and set something on fire. Although that would have made me feel better it was important for me to include my son. I should have asked him how he wanted it handled. By doing so it would have empowered him to handle things on his own later in life.
  3. Demand follow-up. Often there is a huge swirl of activity when the incident occurs. People agree to meet, plans are set, restitution is discussed and then a month later you realize nothing really happened. Be sure to set measureable goals with follow up dates and hold them accountable.

Email works great for this. After the meeting, send an email to all involved stating your understanding and give a timeline as to when you will follow up. Having things in writing helps to force accountability and it creates a nice paper trail if needed later.

My hope is no one needs this list but my experience is many will desperately need a plan of action. Remember to get S.C.R.E.W.E.D. so you don’t get screwed.


In the fall of my junior year in high school I took Physics. I remember sitting in that hot classroom on the second floor of our high school sweating and trying to concentrate and praying the hot classroom wouldn’t allow a musty smell to attach to me. I went to school decades before schools even thought about putting in air conditioning. Our air conditioning was a small 1’x3’ rectangular window that pushed open. This tiny window benefited the two people that sat directly in front of it and no one else. As we waited for class to begin and Mr. Mandeville to start the class, the last few students slid in just before the bell rang. One student was a good friend I grew up with and everyday he would just beat the bell and pour into his seat with the same comment, “I’m buzzin’ like my cousin.” His eyes were still blood shot from his recent few tokes of weed. The Visine hadn’t yet got the red out. The frustrating thing about this friend was he stayed high, ALL THE TIME, but he managed to ace every test in Physics, and Calculus where I struggled with concepts, theorems, equations and formulas.

On one hot September afternoon, Mr. Mandeville began class with a question. “If a tree falls in the forest and there is no one around will it make a sound?” We all debated his question and although I struggled in Physics, I enjoyed questions like this one. They really made me think and that training in problem solving was the most beneficial thing I got out of this class. My friend who was still flying high spoke up.

“Sound operates like a radio. You need a source that produces the sound and you need a receiver, something that receives the sound. Again, just like a radio, the sound waves are in the air but you don’t hear them unless you have a receiver to accept the sound. So if a tree fell in the forest but there was no one around to receive the sound there would be no sound.”

Mr. Mandeville stood at the front of the room and commended the analogy and clarity and we all just giggled knowing my friend was far from clear headed.

Growing up there was a lot going on around me that I was oblivious to. There were racial slights, mean comments, invisible (to me) discrimination, and blatant racism that I didn’t notice.  There was literally racist fog that I walked through and it never registered on my radar. At 20 years old if someone had asked me if I was discriminated against I would have answered clearly that I was not and would have defended that answer to the edge of my own grave, but I was wrong. At that young age, I didn’t really understand what racism was, what it looked like, or smelled like so I just assumed it wasn’t there. Growing up in a White home I wasn’t trained to see it and recognize it so often when I was treated badly I assumed I did something wrong to cause the unjust treatment. Growing up in a White home for me meant my education in racism was about 20 years behind that of my Black peers. My Black peers grew up in homes where their parents pointed out the slights and mistreatment and identified it as racism. They were trained to see it, feel it, spot it, smell it, and label it and by doing so understood the unjust treatment they received had little to do about them and more to do with those who were doing it. This made it easier for my Black friends to walk away understanding they themselves were not broken.

Shortly after leaving the safe confines of my parent’s home I began to see things I never noticed before. I began to hear things I never heard before. I began to smell things I never smelled before. Racism began to be more and more identifiable to me. I had finally tuned in to its frequency and it was coming through in stereo. As my body, mind and ears picked up on it my response to it was anger and sometimes rage. The weight of an unfair system came crashing down on me and as a young man I wasn’t sure how to carry that burden. In my late 40’s I’m still not sure and there are days when I want to just put it down and have someone else carry it because the weight can some days just be too much.

I wish my parents would have taught me when I was very young to see racism. I wish they would have taught me to call it what it was and to hear it as it buzzed around me and surrounded me. I would have gladly sacrificed my innocence in exchange for my self esteem. My innocence allowed it to go unnoticed and undefined. My self esteem took the direct blows instead because other’s behavior was left undefined so I assumed it was me who caused them to act the way they did toward me.

Racism is not like sound. Although they are both around us very actively working, racism won’t be silent just because I don’t recognize it. It is present and weighted and will find a way to impact your children. The question is will you let it fall on them, or warn them it is there and present?


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