“Cultural appropriation” is a term that is increasingly appearing in popular culture. “The Dos and Don’ts of Cultural Appropriation” is a fascinating article in The Atlantic, arguing that “borrowing from other cultures isn’t just inevitable, it’s potentially positive.” Check it out!
socialization
My previous blog post was about Convocation Season. Last year I attended eight department convocations, and one for African American students from around the university. This year I also attend the African American student convocation and eight department events (although the mix of departments was different than last year; my associate dean attended events I could not make). Last year I shared a few brief remarks from memory at most of the events; this year I decided to write out remarks beforehand in order to give longer greetings. [I wish that I had the skill of being about to remember short speeches without notes!] Here is the one that was the most fun to deliver, to the Department of Sociology and Interdisciplinary Social Sciences:
Good morning! As Professor Bahkru noted, I’m the Dean of the College of Social Sciences. I am also a faculty member, in sociology. It’s always great to say a few words to members of my home department.
I’m under strict orders to truly give just a few words. In this case, 3 sentences (!). That’s going to be difficult, as you all know how hard it is for professors to contain ourselves when we are passionate about something! My apologies for not following instructions, Dr. Rudy, but I think I can do it in 3 paragraphs:
- Welcome students, and congratulations on your forthcoming graduation. The faculty and I are proud of you! Your hard work has paid off.
- As sociologists, you know that individual effort alone didn’t get you here. Many, many others helped you; some you know, but you never met others who worked tirelessly on your behalf behind the scenes. Many of your family and friends are here today to celebrate your day. Please join me now in thanking them for all the support the provided to you over the years!
- Finally: we live in very challenging times, when our faith in our democratic institutions has been shaken. Please keep your sociological imaginations active. Each and every one of you has an important role in strengthening the social structures in which we are enmeshed.
Thank you, and congratulations!
This time last year I wrote an entry called Commencement Season is Here, which discussed both pleasant and stressful aspects of graduation ceremonies. That entry noted that here at SJSU there is one big graduation ceremony for the entire campus, and many smaller department ceremonies, usually called convocations. Last year I left a few early in order to hustle to drop in at others. This year I’ve decided to sit through entire ceremonies; if there are two conflicting ceremonies the associate dean would attend one of them. This year he’ll be attending two, and I have eight, plus the main all-university commencement ceremony this Saturday, May 27. Next week I’ll have to find a place that dry cleans regalia…
Every weekday (and usually also on Sundays) I commute to work via the Amtrak Capitol Corridor train from Oakland to San José. The trip takes about an hour and 15 minutes each way. Adding time to get to or from the stations in Oakland and San José plus allowing extra time for potential traffic delays, my commute is about two hours each way…four hours per day (!). According to the short documentary Train Life, however, my Capitol Corridor commute is pretty normal. Train Life was made in 2004, and is composed of interviews of passengers on the Sacramento-Berkeley leg of the Capitol Corridor. Someone should remake it to focus on the Oakland-San José leg. If I were the filmmaker I’d also add interviews with the conductors, and ask folks about their use of technology while on the train [I’m a bit surprised that this did not come up in the interviews.] I’d be a lot less happy, for example, without my iPad, Internet access via free Wi Fi, and wireless headphones…
My wife’s mother is a retired elementary school science teacher, and her sister in law is currently an elementary/middle school teacher and assistant principal. One of the sister in law’s students is applying for a spot in a summer camp for middle school kids interested in STEM (science, technology, engineering, and math) careers; I was sent a draft of the application essay for comments. The prompt is “how would you use math and science to change the world?” I decided to write a sample essay that, perhaps, the seventh-grade student could use as a model for how to more tightly focus her essay, which was very broad and general. In twenty minutes I whipped up 500 words, and showed the sample essay to my mother in law, who said that the language was at an impossibly high level for the student to engage! Also, of course, I veered off too much into social science territory instead of sticking to the STEM weeds. We were able to come up with an outline of how the student might restructure her essay, but will not send my sample essay. I thought that it would be fun to post it here on “Dispatches From a Dean,” however!
The TV show Humans is about a world where most families have a synthetic human companion – a “synth” – who cooks, cleans, and cares for them. This is a very interesting premise, but doesn’t totally reflect the world I see in 100 years. For one thing, the main family in the TV show is a traditional TV nuclear family: a married mom and dad who both work outside the home, and two teenage kids at home. But what about a multi-generational home with grandma living at home to help care for grandkids who are homeschooled? What if one parent works from home all day, and one of the kids has special needs? I would use science, math, and technology to design a home and synthetic companions that better reflect this more probable world.
For example, zoning laws in Northern California are changing to allow denser living. In Oakland we can now build “Accessory Dwelling Units” (ADUs) in the back yard where grandma can live, and have easy access to the grandkids. ADUs are not huge, though, so we have to make careful use of space and the items within. We can use new advanced technology to make appliances smaller, quieter, and less energy-intensive. We would of course use recycled materials, and make sure that we have bins for recycling and composting. We’d also look at alternative fuels for heating and cooling. Maybe hydrogen cells that run on salt water? We have plenty of that in the Pacific Ocean! Perhaps the family synth would be hydrogen-powered.
I’ve never seen a bus in Humans, but in my world we’d definitely have mass transit options. Grandma might not be able to drive, you know! The buses wouldn’t be the slow and stinky diesel gas-powered beasts of today. They’d run on alternative fuels (maybe hydrogen cells here too!), and would be controlled via advanced Global Positioning Systems (GPS). Perhaps a fleet of synth-driven cars would circulate to ferry humans from the buses and light rail trains on major streets to their houses and ADUs. Maybe synths would not be needed, as self-driving cars would do the job.
I think that many folks would also live in densely packed high-rise units. So for these we’d need to come up with better green space ideas, since folks can’t be cooped up inside all day. Perhaps each high rise would have a rooftop garden with trees for shade and sunny patches for vegetable gardens. Gardens could also be built on each floor, and hydroponic systems can be used in places where soil wouldn’t work. Light, water, and temperature levels would be computer controlled, and also adapt to the presence of humans, pets, and synths.
In sum, my world would have many advanced and interconnected systems. I would need a strong knowledge of science and math to not only understand each individual element, but it is also essential to get the components to work together. I look forward to the challenge!
The National Public Radio All Tech Considered series recently released a very interesting segment: “Social Network Nextdoor Moves To Block Racial Profiling Online.” This is a very encouraging move, as Nextdoor posts often reinforce racial stereotypes, and these virtual actions can have very serious real world implications. Preliminary tests of Nextdoor’s efforts have reduced racial profiling by as much as 75%. Hopefully they will have similar success when the changes are widely implemented!
SJSU Professor Kate Davis is currently attending a National Endowment for the Humanities Summer Seminar for College and University Faculty on Mapping, Texts, and Travel. In the archives she recently encountered a 1959 booklet, the Go Guide for Motor Tourists, which provided information about safe places for African Americans to visit while traveling by car. I had not heard of this publication, and a quick web search did not turn up any information. The booklet was probably a competitor to the more well-known Negro Motorist Green Book. I learned about this publication a few years ago, and asked my aunt and mother-in-law about it. Both are in their 70s and remember traveling in the Jim Crow South, but don’t remember this book. Maybe it was only used by men, who would be the drivers. My paternal grandfather drove through many states of the Jim Crow South, and thus would have been a perfect person to ask, but he passed away years ago, unfortunately. A PBS story referenced a documentary that briefly discussed traveling while Black in that era; I’ll have to check it out!
I’m not usually a podcast listener, but today stumbled upon one I should check out occasionally: NPR’s “Invisibilia,” which is “about the invisible forces that control human behavior – ideas, beliefs, assumptions and emotions.” The “Flip the Script” episode features discussion of how a Danish town helped young Muslims turn away from ISIS. Interesting!
In February 2016 I posted a note about a forthcoming website called “Blackasotan,” which highlights stories about the intersection of race and place. Blackasotan was launched today (June 15, 2016)! The inaugural edition includes my submission, 30 Years a Minnesotan. As with many publications, some edits were made for the piece to conform to their standards. Below is my original submission, in case anyone wants to compare the two versions.
30 Years a Minnesotan
“There are White kids working at McDonalds!” That was my initial race-tinged observation during my first trip to Minnesota, in the summer of 1986 between graduation from high school in Atlanta, GA, and the start of college, also in Atlanta. I lived in St. Paul that summer while working as an engineering intern at 3M in Maplewood. Well, I didn’t really do much “engineering” work since I had not yet taken any engineering classes, but that’s a story for another day…
After growing up in all-Black neighborhoods in the South, spending three months in mostly White surroundings for the first time as an 18-year old was quite the adjustment. In addition to marveling at White workers serving me at fast food restaurants, I was shocked to see White and Asian American folks in public housing complexes, and was stunned when my count of Cadillacs seen around the Twin Cities did not reach double digits. Of course, this was probably due more to rear-wheel drive Cadillacs of the 1980s not being practical choices for Minnesota winters, but they were everywhere back home on the Black side of town.
The first summer in Minnesota also featured the third time I was called nigger to my face. The first two times were at Boy Scout camps (!); the third time was while sitting in a car at a stoplight on Snelling Avenue in St. Paul. I was the passenger with the window down, and an elderly woman started screaming it at me. She also gave me the finger…and might have mooned me too. I’m fuzzy on whether or not the mooning happened as an exclamation to her tantrum, but the verbal taunting and finger pointing were traumatizing enough. The White driver (an intern from California) might have been even more shocked, though, as he went out of his way to do nice things for me over the next few weeks.
Aside from that Snelling Avenue encounter my racialized experiences in Minnesota have been mostly positive. For instance, I had my first significant discussions about race with White folks that summer. In high school there were 1600 students, and all but four were Black. Of the four, three were White boys, and the fourth was a recent Vietnamese immigrant, Tuan Le [I wonder what ever happened to him?]. One of the White guys was in my clique of five, but we never overtly discussed race. While working at 3M and living in a residence hall in Hamline University I made friends with more than one White person for the first time, and began to explore questions that eventually led me to abandon engineering for a career as a sociology professor. One person from that initial summer has been a friend ever since, and several folks from my second year as an intern at 3M during the summer of 1987 are life-long comrades to this day.
I saw my Minnesota friends at least once a year between 1986 and 1998. In 1999 I moved to Minneapolis when I became a professor at the University of Minnesota. One of the difficulties many transplants report is adjusting to “Minnesota Nice,” how everyone is very polite on the surface, but it’s hard to break into friendship circles, and get folks to open up about deep topics. I loved Minnesota from the start since my experience was the opposite: I made lasting friendships seemingly immediately, and was able to quickly establish enough trust to talk about difficult topics, such as race. My new friends also helped me overcome my homophobia.
One would think that moving from an all-Black environment to a mostly-White one would be the opposite of my experience, in that conversations in the former would be much easier than those of the latter. That is indeed the case for many, but I have found that in Minnesota I was able to inhabit a more expansive place regarding racial identity. “Say what, professor?” Let me give you an example.
One summer in my second or third year at The U I was walking behind Appleby Hall on the East Bank when a car pulled over and the driver (a Black man) asked me for directions to Chicago Avenue. The passenger (a Black woman) started laughing when I prefaced my answer with “Let’s see.” “Did he just say ‘let’s see’?!” she chuckled as she winked at the driver. He nodded; he knew, and she knew, and I knew that her implication was “does this guy really know how to get to the section of Chicago Ave. where Black people live? He sounds like a White guy.” In the South my Blackness was questioned more times than I count, whereas this encounter is the only memory of overt identity boundary work in Minnesota I can recall.
Now I’m not saying that Minnesota exists in some sort of post-racial utopia where everyone gets along. On the contrary, there is way too much work ahead of us, as evidenced by recent reports about Black-White achievement gaps, and attacks on Black Lives Matter activists in North Minneapolis, for example. I am suggesting that there is a willingness by progressive Minnesotans to think about race in new ways, so the path forward is not as steep as in other places.
The author Touré begins the book Who’s Afraid of Post-Blackness? What it Means to be Black Now with an anecdote about an encounter with Black men in a diner. After learning that he was in town to do a story about skydiving, they tell him, “Brother, Black people don’t do that.” Touré notes that if he had listened to such internal community admonishment in the past he would have missed out on what he describes as a spiritual and life-changing experience. I very much appreciate Minnesota because in my experience there involved less policing of boundaries about what it means to be Black, from both Black and non-Black friends.
Later in Who’s Afraid of Post-Blackness? Touré discusses how there are countless ways to be Black, and argues that we should celebrate them all. I think that I unofficially began to think of myself as a Minnesotan in the summer of 1986 after learning that the land of 10,000 lakes also helped me see that there were 10,000 ways to be Black there. I was officially a Minnesotan while I lived there from 1999 through 2013. It was then very easy to maintain an identity as a Minnesotan while living in Wisconsin for two years from 2013 to 2015. [Oh, there are so many ways!] In 2015 I moved to the San Francisco Bay Area, but now in 2016 I have changed my Facebook hometown status form Atlanta to Minneapolis. In a way, then, June will mark the end of my 30th year as a Minnesotan. I might not ever reside in the state again, but I hope to call myself a Minnesotan for at least 30 more years…
***
Walt Jacobs is the Dean of the College of Social Sciences at San José State University. He physically resided in Minnesota for 14 years as a professor at the University of Minnesota from 1999-2013, but has loved it for 30 years, starting as a college student intern in the summer of 1986.
In the 2015-2016 academic year there were two new Department Chairs in my college. The Associate Dean and I had a group check in lunch with them back in January (along with a second-year Chair who also wanted to be included), and today we all had a second group lunch. We discussed both the pleasant surprises they experienced and the challenges they faced. Next year there will be four new Chairs, so we asked the group today about ideas for having monthly check ins. They came up with great suggestions. I look forward to using their ideas along with info from CCAS Seminars for Department Chairs [I was a Director last year]. Department Chairs are key players in the effective operation of colleges and universities, so providing them with tools and support to be successful is one of the highest priorities for Deans. Many thanks to all of the Department Chairs out there!
My previous blog post was about Convocation Season. Last year I attended eight department convocations, and one for African American students from around the university. This year I also attend the African American student convocation and eight department events (although the mix of departments was different than last year; my associate dean attended events I could not make). Last year I shared a few brief remarks from memory at most of the events; this year I decided to write out remarks beforehand in order to give longer greetings. [I wish that I had the skill of being about to remember short speeches without notes!] Here is the one that was the most fun to deliver, to the Department of Sociology and Interdisciplinary Social Sciences:
Good morning! As Professor Bahkru noted, I’m the Dean of the College of Social Sciences. I am also a faculty member, in sociology. It’s always great to say a few words to members of my home department.
I’m under strict orders to truly give just a few words. In this case, 3 sentences (!). That’s going to be difficult, as you all know how hard it is for professors to contain ourselves when we are passionate about something! My apologies for not following instructions, Dr. Rudy, but I think I can do it in 3 paragraphs:
- Welcome students, and congratulations on your forthcoming graduation. The faculty and I are proud of you! Your hard work has paid off.
- As sociologists, you know that individual effort alone didn’t get you here. Many, many others helped you; some you know, but you never met others who worked tirelessly on your behalf behind the scenes. Many of your family and friends are here today to celebrate your day. Please join me now in thanking them for all the support the provided to you over the years!
- Finally: we live in very challenging times, when our faith in our democratic institutions has been shaken. Please keep your sociological imaginations active. Each and every one of you has an important role in strengthening the social structures in which we are enmeshed.
Thank you, and congratulations!
This time last year I wrote an entry called Commencement Season is Here, which discussed both pleasant and stressful aspects of graduation ceremonies. That entry noted that here at SJSU there is one big graduation ceremony for the entire campus, and many smaller department ceremonies, usually called convocations. Last year I left a few early in order to hustle to drop in at others. This year I’ve decided to sit through entire ceremonies; if there are two conflicting ceremonies the associate dean would attend one of them. This year he’ll be attending two, and I have eight, plus the main all-university commencement ceremony this Saturday, May 27. Next week I’ll have to find a place that dry cleans regalia…
Every weekday (and usually also on Sundays) I commute to work via the Amtrak Capitol Corridor train from Oakland to San José. The trip takes about an hour and 15 minutes each way. Adding time to get to or from the stations in Oakland and San José plus allowing extra time for potential traffic delays, my commute is about two hours each way…four hours per day (!). According to the short documentary Train Life, however, my Capitol Corridor commute is pretty normal. Train Life was made in 2004, and is composed of interviews of passengers on the Sacramento-Berkeley leg of the Capitol Corridor. Someone should remake it to focus on the Oakland-San José leg. If I were the filmmaker I’d also add interviews with the conductors, and ask folks about their use of technology while on the train [I’m a bit surprised that this did not come up in the interviews.] I’d be a lot less happy, for example, without my iPad, Internet access via free Wi Fi, and wireless headphones…
My wife’s mother is a retired elementary school science teacher, and her sister in law is currently an elementary/middle school teacher and assistant principal. One of the sister in law’s students is applying for a spot in a summer camp for middle school kids interested in STEM (science, technology, engineering, and math) careers; I was sent a draft of the application essay for comments. The prompt is “how would you use math and science to change the world?” I decided to write a sample essay that, perhaps, the seventh-grade student could use as a model for how to more tightly focus her essay, which was very broad and general. In twenty minutes I whipped up 500 words, and showed the sample essay to my mother in law, who said that the language was at an impossibly high level for the student to engage! Also, of course, I veered off too much into social science territory instead of sticking to the STEM weeds. We were able to come up with an outline of how the student might restructure her essay, but will not send my sample essay. I thought that it would be fun to post it here on “Dispatches From a Dean,” however!
The TV show Humans is about a world where most families have a synthetic human companion – a “synth” – who cooks, cleans, and cares for them. This is a very interesting premise, but doesn’t totally reflect the world I see in 100 years. For one thing, the main family in the TV show is a traditional TV nuclear family: a married mom and dad who both work outside the home, and two teenage kids at home. But what about a multi-generational home with grandma living at home to help care for grandkids who are homeschooled? What if one parent works from home all day, and one of the kids has special needs? I would use science, math, and technology to design a home and synthetic companions that better reflect this more probable world.
For example, zoning laws in Northern California are changing to allow denser living. In Oakland we can now build “Accessory Dwelling Units” (ADUs) in the back yard where grandma can live, and have easy access to the grandkids. ADUs are not huge, though, so we have to make careful use of space and the items within. We can use new advanced technology to make appliances smaller, quieter, and less energy-intensive. We would of course use recycled materials, and make sure that we have bins for recycling and composting. We’d also look at alternative fuels for heating and cooling. Maybe hydrogen cells that run on salt water? We have plenty of that in the Pacific Ocean! Perhaps the family synth would be hydrogen-powered.
I’ve never seen a bus in Humans, but in my world we’d definitely have mass transit options. Grandma might not be able to drive, you know! The buses wouldn’t be the slow and stinky diesel gas-powered beasts of today. They’d run on alternative fuels (maybe hydrogen cells here too!), and would be controlled via advanced Global Positioning Systems (GPS). Perhaps a fleet of synth-driven cars would circulate to ferry humans from the buses and light rail trains on major streets to their houses and ADUs. Maybe synths would not be needed, as self-driving cars would do the job.
I think that many folks would also live in densely packed high-rise units. So for these we’d need to come up with better green space ideas, since folks can’t be cooped up inside all day. Perhaps each high rise would have a rooftop garden with trees for shade and sunny patches for vegetable gardens. Gardens could also be built on each floor, and hydroponic systems can be used in places where soil wouldn’t work. Light, water, and temperature levels would be computer controlled, and also adapt to the presence of humans, pets, and synths.
In sum, my world would have many advanced and interconnected systems. I would need a strong knowledge of science and math to not only understand each individual element, but it is also essential to get the components to work together. I look forward to the challenge!
The National Public Radio All Tech Considered series recently released a very interesting segment: “Social Network Nextdoor Moves To Block Racial Profiling Online.” This is a very encouraging move, as Nextdoor posts often reinforce racial stereotypes, and these virtual actions can have very serious real world implications. Preliminary tests of Nextdoor’s efforts have reduced racial profiling by as much as 75%. Hopefully they will have similar success when the changes are widely implemented!
SJSU Professor Kate Davis is currently attending a National Endowment for the Humanities Summer Seminar for College and University Faculty on Mapping, Texts, and Travel. In the archives she recently encountered a 1959 booklet, the Go Guide for Motor Tourists, which provided information about safe places for African Americans to visit while traveling by car. I had not heard of this publication, and a quick web search did not turn up any information. The booklet was probably a competitor to the more well-known Negro Motorist Green Book. I learned about this publication a few years ago, and asked my aunt and mother-in-law about it. Both are in their 70s and remember traveling in the Jim Crow South, but don’t remember this book. Maybe it was only used by men, who would be the drivers. My paternal grandfather drove through many states of the Jim Crow South, and thus would have been a perfect person to ask, but he passed away years ago, unfortunately. A PBS story referenced a documentary that briefly discussed traveling while Black in that era; I’ll have to check it out!
I’m not usually a podcast listener, but today stumbled upon one I should check out occasionally: NPR’s “Invisibilia,” which is “about the invisible forces that control human behavior – ideas, beliefs, assumptions and emotions.” The “Flip the Script” episode features discussion of how a Danish town helped young Muslims turn away from ISIS. Interesting!
In February 2016 I posted a note about a forthcoming website called “Blackasotan,” which highlights stories about the intersection of race and place. Blackasotan was launched today (June 15, 2016)! The inaugural edition includes my submission, 30 Years a Minnesotan. As with many publications, some edits were made for the piece to conform to their standards. Below is my original submission, in case anyone wants to compare the two versions.
30 Years a Minnesotan
“There are White kids working at McDonalds!” That was my initial race-tinged observation during my first trip to Minnesota, in the summer of 1986 between graduation from high school in Atlanta, GA, and the start of college, also in Atlanta. I lived in St. Paul that summer while working as an engineering intern at 3M in Maplewood. Well, I didn’t really do much “engineering” work since I had not yet taken any engineering classes, but that’s a story for another day…
After growing up in all-Black neighborhoods in the South, spending three months in mostly White surroundings for the first time as an 18-year old was quite the adjustment. In addition to marveling at White workers serving me at fast food restaurants, I was shocked to see White and Asian American folks in public housing complexes, and was stunned when my count of Cadillacs seen around the Twin Cities did not reach double digits. Of course, this was probably due more to rear-wheel drive Cadillacs of the 1980s not being practical choices for Minnesota winters, but they were everywhere back home on the Black side of town.
The first summer in Minnesota also featured the third time I was called nigger to my face. The first two times were at Boy Scout camps (!); the third time was while sitting in a car at a stoplight on Snelling Avenue in St. Paul. I was the passenger with the window down, and an elderly woman started screaming it at me. She also gave me the finger…and might have mooned me too. I’m fuzzy on whether or not the mooning happened as an exclamation to her tantrum, but the verbal taunting and finger pointing were traumatizing enough. The White driver (an intern from California) might have been even more shocked, though, as he went out of his way to do nice things for me over the next few weeks.
Aside from that Snelling Avenue encounter my racialized experiences in Minnesota have been mostly positive. For instance, I had my first significant discussions about race with White folks that summer. In high school there were 1600 students, and all but four were Black. Of the four, three were White boys, and the fourth was a recent Vietnamese immigrant, Tuan Le [I wonder what ever happened to him?]. One of the White guys was in my clique of five, but we never overtly discussed race. While working at 3M and living in a residence hall in Hamline University I made friends with more than one White person for the first time, and began to explore questions that eventually led me to abandon engineering for a career as a sociology professor. One person from that initial summer has been a friend ever since, and several folks from my second year as an intern at 3M during the summer of 1987 are life-long comrades to this day.
I saw my Minnesota friends at least once a year between 1986 and 1998. In 1999 I moved to Minneapolis when I became a professor at the University of Minnesota. One of the difficulties many transplants report is adjusting to “Minnesota Nice,” how everyone is very polite on the surface, but it’s hard to break into friendship circles, and get folks to open up about deep topics. I loved Minnesota from the start since my experience was the opposite: I made lasting friendships seemingly immediately, and was able to quickly establish enough trust to talk about difficult topics, such as race. My new friends also helped me overcome my homophobia.
One would think that moving from an all-Black environment to a mostly-White one would be the opposite of my experience, in that conversations in the former would be much easier than those of the latter. That is indeed the case for many, but I have found that in Minnesota I was able to inhabit a more expansive place regarding racial identity. “Say what, professor?” Let me give you an example.
One summer in my second or third year at The U I was walking behind Appleby Hall on the East Bank when a car pulled over and the driver (a Black man) asked me for directions to Chicago Avenue. The passenger (a Black woman) started laughing when I prefaced my answer with “Let’s see.” “Did he just say ‘let’s see’?!” she chuckled as she winked at the driver. He nodded; he knew, and she knew, and I knew that her implication was “does this guy really know how to get to the section of Chicago Ave. where Black people live? He sounds like a White guy.” In the South my Blackness was questioned more times than I count, whereas this encounter is the only memory of overt identity boundary work in Minnesota I can recall.
Now I’m not saying that Minnesota exists in some sort of post-racial utopia where everyone gets along. On the contrary, there is way too much work ahead of us, as evidenced by recent reports about Black-White achievement gaps, and attacks on Black Lives Matter activists in North Minneapolis, for example. I am suggesting that there is a willingness by progressive Minnesotans to think about race in new ways, so the path forward is not as steep as in other places.
The author Touré begins the book Who’s Afraid of Post-Blackness? What it Means to be Black Now with an anecdote about an encounter with Black men in a diner. After learning that he was in town to do a story about skydiving, they tell him, “Brother, Black people don’t do that.” Touré notes that if he had listened to such internal community admonishment in the past he would have missed out on what he describes as a spiritual and life-changing experience. I very much appreciate Minnesota because in my experience there involved less policing of boundaries about what it means to be Black, from both Black and non-Black friends.
Later in Who’s Afraid of Post-Blackness? Touré discusses how there are countless ways to be Black, and argues that we should celebrate them all. I think that I unofficially began to think of myself as a Minnesotan in the summer of 1986 after learning that the land of 10,000 lakes also helped me see that there were 10,000 ways to be Black there. I was officially a Minnesotan while I lived there from 1999 through 2013. It was then very easy to maintain an identity as a Minnesotan while living in Wisconsin for two years from 2013 to 2015. [Oh, there are so many ways!] In 2015 I moved to the San Francisco Bay Area, but now in 2016 I have changed my Facebook hometown status form Atlanta to Minneapolis. In a way, then, June will mark the end of my 30th year as a Minnesotan. I might not ever reside in the state again, but I hope to call myself a Minnesotan for at least 30 more years…
***
Walt Jacobs is the Dean of the College of Social Sciences at San José State University. He physically resided in Minnesota for 14 years as a professor at the University of Minnesota from 1999-2013, but has loved it for 30 years, starting as a college student intern in the summer of 1986.
In the 2015-2016 academic year there were two new Department Chairs in my college. The Associate Dean and I had a group check in lunch with them back in January (along with a second-year Chair who also wanted to be included), and today we all had a second group lunch. We discussed both the pleasant surprises they experienced and the challenges they faced. Next year there will be four new Chairs, so we asked the group today about ideas for having monthly check ins. They came up with great suggestions. I look forward to using their ideas along with info from CCAS Seminars for Department Chairs [I was a Director last year]. Department Chairs are key players in the effective operation of colleges and universities, so providing them with tools and support to be successful is one of the highest priorities for Deans. Many thanks to all of the Department Chairs out there!