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Monday, August 18, 1997

EDUCATION:

Ignorance due to limited focus of history spawns racism Victor Patton

Adolescence was not an easy time of my life. Growing from a child into a young man was an initiation process that was at times subtle, but at other times very brutal. The experience can light an unextinguishable fire in some or start the demise of others. My own initiation was not unique; it is one that thousands have gone through. It was similar to most initiations of children of African Heritage into American society, because it started with the letters N.I.G.G.E.R.

At the age of 10, I was colorblind like most children are. It didn't matter if you were white, black, red, yellow, green, whatever ... just as long as you could fire spitballs, throw a football, climb trees, or do most things that kids do at that age. In addition, having a father of French and African background, and a mother of Native American and African background, anyone with two eyes would have difficulty putting me into any one cultural grouping.

One of my young associates was a blond-haired, blue-eyed tomboy named Stacy. At 11 years old we shared an innocent friendship. However, on picture day I made the grave mistake of exchanging wallet-sized photographs with Stacy. When she went home to show mom and dad the picture of me, her parents were flabbergasted that Stacy had expanded her multi-cultural friend network. In fact Stacy's father decided to pay an immediate visit to the school to "seek out" this young friend of hers.

Running around on the kickball court with my little black afro in a school that was 99.9 percent white made me relatively easy to find for Stacy's father. In front of all of the other children, he snatched me up by the throat with his callused hands, carried me over to a park bench, and dropped me like a sack of potatoes.

He squinted down at me with angry, bitter eyes red with hatred, and extended a long, fat finger at me. He said, "Look son, even though you're a good-looking nigger, you're still a nigger. Wherever you go, whatever you do, you're always going to be a nigger. With that in mind, stay the hell away from my daughter, because you're never going to be good enough for her, you fucking nigger." With one final shove down to the ground, Stacy's father left. Stacy would never speak to me again.

I never told anyone, not even my parents about that day. What made the situation even worse was that as a child, I did not blame that over-40-year-old man for his ignorance. I blamed myself for the color of my skin. The humiliation I felt was unreal.

As an adult, I can only speculate why Stacy's father decided to verbally attack me. In a rage of ignorance, that man was only projecting whatever personal problems he had in his own life upon me and my culture. Calling me a nigger gave him a fleeting sense of white superiority, a surge of power which may have been uncommon to the banality of his blue-collar reality. (I think the paint-stained Lynrd Skynrd T-shirt and his Snap-On Tools mesh-baseball cap gave him away on that one!)

The word "nigger" alone was a hurtful term to hear because of the word's historical link to slavery. Even more devastating to my impressionable young mind was the fact that the sentiments of Stacy's father were seemingly echoed in the pages of my history textbooks.

The American educational system attempted to reinforce the idea that I was a nigger. While my teachers extolled the so-called great accomplishments of European civilization, African Americans were known by only one name: slave. Not Harriet Tubman, not Frederick Douglas, nor Sojournor Truth, but slave.

Every time a discussion of history would occur, the class would only discuss the accomplishments of Caucasians in history; events such as the Crusades, King Henry VIII and all of the wives he beheaded and, of course, the triumph over English imperialism in the "New World."

But what about my history? Slavery was only briefly mentioned, and when it was, one visualized African slaves as being passive individuals. How could I ever understand my own identity by looking at myself through the white man's lens?

I realized at an early age that in order for the American power structure of white supremacy to remain intact, it was necessary to attempt to classify me as a non-entity. A system was established which socialized all Americans into divisive modes of thought. One America has been socialized to believe in its inherent superiority over people of African descent and indigenous peoples (the real Americans), while the other America has been socialized to believe in its own inferiority to white America.

In order to maintain this power structure, American historians, with sanction from the government, tend to leave two important concepts out of their textbooks. The first is the truth about the origins of the land and labor which were a part of the building of the United States of America.

Without land and labor, no country can come into existence. The United States of America was provided with land stolen from the indigenous peoples of North America, and the labor was provided by African and Native Americans. My question is, if the two basic elements of nationhood were provided in America by people of non-European decent, why does the overwhelming level of credit in the creation of this nation go to the Europeans? If I move all of my belongings into someone else's house, on someone else's land, and kick the tenants out of their own house, on their own land, why should I take the overwhelming credit for building the house?

In addition, African Americans have been denied access to information in textbooks documenting the worldwide struggle against slavery and European supremacy. Whenever a violent slave revolt occurred during the 18th and 19th centuries, slave masters were quick to quash any news in order to keep other slaves from getting ideas to rebel. In the same way, information on hundreds of slave rebellions has been omitted from world and American history books in order to keep children of color from challenging the status quo of white supremacy.

Unless there is an acknowledgment of our blood-stained history, the educational system will continue to socialize Americans of all colors into divisive modes of thought. We currently live in a country where racism is sanctioned in American history textbooks, and teachers are, for the most part, unprepared to provide children of color the self-confidence and self-esteem that is necessary to compete in America's racially-charged environment.

A solution for problems of American mis-education starts at the grass-roots level. Luckily for me, further on down the line in my education I have become exposed to positive black role models who are able to help me develop a strong knowledge of self and pride in being an African American child.

Many African, Latino and Native American communities are instituting free history programs at community centers across the country. In these classes, youth work one on one with volunteer history instructors who teach them the truth about America's past. These types of classes are especially necessary in low-income communities, where juvenile crime is often the result of a lack of self-knowledge.

The old generation style of Christopher-Columbus-discovering-the-New-World history must become a relic of the past. In its place, progressive individuals must seek out the truth. The time has come to move history out of Europe and place it in a truly global context, inclusive of the triumphs of people of color around the world. Only then will we truly begin the movement towards a society of mutual appreciation which celebrates diversity.