stereotypes

Last Friday I was invited to attend a Rotary Club meeting in Racine, WI. It was fun meeting the members, and learning about their history and charitable projects. If asked to join I’ll probably accept for a start date in 2014. The weird thing about membership, though, will be attending weekly meetings in the Racine Country Club. A stereotype of country clubs is that members are a bunch of old White guys sitting around trying to keep women and racial minorities out. I was the only person of color present (in a group of about 40), and there were just two female members in attendance. There were a lot of younger men at the meeting, however, and I enjoyed the general vibe of the group.

I was also the only person of color in the room when the chancellor and provost took me to the Kenosha Country Club at the end of my first week on the job last month. As we rolled up I joked, “are you sure they are going to let me in this place? I grew up in the South, you know, so I need to check!” They responded that the university would not have a membership if there were any exclusionary practices. After a nice lunch they informed me that I could be added to the membership list.

So what do you think, readers: should I join one or both country clubs, knowing that I’ll be one of the few faces — and maybe the ONLY face — of diversity?

A couple of weeks ago The Society Pages published “Colorblindness vs. Race-Consciousness — An American Ambivalence,” in which Meghan A. Burke begins with anti-stereotypical observations in her research: “Consider a setting: a racially diverse urban neighborhood where organizers and most residents take a tremendous amount of pride in their community’s racial diversity. But many still think the black kids in their community don’t learn the ‘right values’ and avoid the parts of the community they code as ‘ghetto.’ Or how about a rural community in Illinois, where some Tea Party organizers feel that Obama’s election was a step forward for race relations, support the Dream Act, and grew up taking pride in attending a black congregation.” I have to admit that I was a little worried about how I would be received on a recent trip to the Post Office in the small town of Somers, WI, next to my campus. Everyone was friendly, and the clerk was an African American man (!). I’ll have to keep Professor Burke’s article in mind as I venture out to additional rural areas of the state.

San Francisco is one of my favorite cities in the world, and I was able to visit twice recently: April 26-29 to attend the 2013 Annual Meeting of the American Educational Research Association, and May 24-26 to take a workshop at the Center for Digital Storytelling. In both trips I was also able to visit family and friends.

What I forgot to do both times was to go see what’s in the space formally occupied by a bookstore: A Clean, Well Lighted Place for Books. Why? I wanted to revisit the scene of one of my earliest introductions to the wonderful eccentricity of SF.

It was the summer of 2002 and I was in town to visit my girlfriend (now wife) in our long distance relationship. It was a weekday, so I was wandering around town while she was at work. Earlier that morning Valerie had suggested that I go check out the bookstore, which was a short walk from her apartment. As I entered I saw an older white man browsing a table full of paperbacks. He caught my eye because he looked like my department chair at the time!

I walked toward him, behind two other men: a white guy, and a Latino. My department chair look-alike said hello to each person, using his take on culturally appropriate greetings.

To the White man: “Hey, how ya doin’?”

To the Latino man: “¿Hola, cómo estás?”

To me, the African American man: “As-Salaam-Alaikum, my brother!”

I can’t remember how the other cats reacted, but I just nodded, as I was too shocked to provide a culturally appropriate response, such as “Wa-Alaikum-Salaam.” I’ll be ready next time, however!

I know many folks who are annoyed by those who use what they believe are cultural appropriate expressions with members of different ethnic or racial groups, especially when they are incorrect in their assumptions. I welcome these attempts, as they are reaching out to try to make a connection, when they can so easily ignore those who are different from them. What do you think, readers?

For a few years I’ve worn a t-shirt with “contexts.org” on the front, and I have received a few questions about it over the years, though always from folks who appear to be middle-aged, middle-class whites. Today two “unusual suspects” asked me about the t-shirt: a white teenage guy who took my order at a sandwich shop, and a thirty-something African American man sporting dreadlocks and multiple tattoos. After I explained that Contexts is a sociology magazine for a mass audience the African American guy exclaimed, “I love sociology! I will check out contexts.org when I get home.” Awesome!

I am currently living in Charlotte, NC. My wife has a new job here, and I’m using a Spring 2013 release from teaching to work on research projects here before moving to Wisconsin in July to start my new position as a dean. I have been travelling to Minnesota at least once a month to meet with research collaborators and attend meetings for service obligations. On the April 10-12, 2013 trip a neighbor who knew about my Minneapolis-Charlotte dual household arrangement told me about a letter to the editor in the Minneapolis StarTribune, “Minnesota Not So Nice,” in which a recent transplant from Atlanta, GA (my home town!) concludes:

“Minnesota Polite?” Sure.
“Minnesota Reserved?” Definitely.
“Minnesota Standoffish?” Absolutely.
“Minnesota Nice?” Yeah, not so much.

Earlier in the piece the author notes, “I moved up here a year ago from Atlanta, where having a 20-minute conversation with strangers in line at the grocery store, waving at cars driving down your street and making newcomers feel welcome is an everyday occurrence.” He goes on to provide examples of “Minnesota Nice,” where Minnesotans are courteous but reserved, and slow to open up to newcomers.

My family moved to Atlanta from Raleigh, NC when I was two years old, and I lived there until I graduated from college (Georgia Tech) in 1990. From 1990 until 2012 I lived in the Midwest, in Indiana and Minnesota. Since my return to the South in December, 2012 I have discovered just how much of a Minnesotan I have become in 13 years (I moved there in August, 1999). I don’t like it when strangers come up to me in Charlotte stores to chat (for example, an older African American woman once stopped me in a Target: “Where are you from? You look like my godson! What’s your name?”), and when I go to the dry cleaners I pray that I get the surly but efficient cashier, and not the chatty guy who forgets to give me my receipt. The surly one must be from the Midwest.

Of course, “Minnesota Nice” can be used as a stereotype when it goes beyond existing evidence, but there are indeed regional cultural differences that one quickly discovers, as has the writer of the letter to the editor. Learning the nuances of these differences can ease a transition to a new environment. I’m looking forward to going back to the Midwest, and discovering unique aspects of life in Wisconsin. Maybe there is a “Wisconsin Nice”?