tag:theconversation.com,2011:/africa/topics/everyday-racism-19177/articlesEveryday racism – The Conversation2021-01-31T07:52:31Ztag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1415872021-01-31T07:52:31Z2021-01-31T07:52:31ZRacism has a physical impact on the body – here’s how<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/379719/original/file-20210120-23-1lk53a5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Kenyan artist Allan Mwangi paints a mural of George Floyd in Kibera, Nairobi.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">GORDWIN ODHIAMBO/AFP via Getty Images</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>I began to write this essay in January 2020, what feels like years ago. The issues I wanted to raise are no longer even partly hidden. The effects of racism on the body, especially the black body, are in plain <a href="https://www.bbc.com/news/world-us-canada-53273381">sight</a>.</p>
<p>Most of these problems have been there for centuries, but are now called pandemics. Pandemics of murder, of disease and of social inequality. In the face of new waves of deaths, including those that precipitated the <a href="https://blacklivesmatter.com/">Black Lives Matter</a> movement, the world is reawakening to the power of racism to kill people.</p>
<p><a href="https://theconversation.com/why-does-racism-prevail-leading-scholars-apply-their-minds-138363">The Effects of Race Project</a> at the Stellenbosch <a href="https://stias.ac.za">Institute</a> for Advanced Study started in 2013. The goal of a team of academics was to better understand the “everydayness of race” and how race-thinking created durable and seemingly inescapable racialised realities in South Africa, the US and elsewhere. </p>
<p><a href="https://theconversation.com/why-does-racism-prevail-leading-scholars-apply-their-minds-138363">Race thinking</a> – the idea that people belong to a race determined mostly by their skin colour – has so framed our realities that we can scarcely imagine a world without it. </p>
<p>But race thinking has deformed us and society because it’s based on constructs of <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/inequality/2017/nov/08/us-vs-them-the-sinister-techniques-of-othering-and-how-to-avoid-them">otherness</a> and difference. These, in turn, underpin expectations of character, intelligence, motivation and behaviour. They can pave the way for the unleashing of suspicion, derogation and dehumanisation.</p>
<p>Racism affects health and often leads to early death. We now know in greater and more disturbing detail how this occurs. It kills directly and abruptly when people are murdered by police or vigilantes, but it also kills through disease. COVID-19 is new, but diseases common to the survival zones of the urban poor have been with us for a long time. It was only a century ago that the bone disease <a href="https://academic.oup.com/jn/article/136/4/1126/4664238">rickets</a> was so common among African American children of eastern US cities that it was considered a rite of passage. </p>
<p>More sinister even are the health problems caused by acute and chronic stress on people who are subjected to racial othering and overt racial discrimination. The trauma of humiliation caused by racism creates recurrent stress in individuals, families and wider communities. These stresses manifest in manifold ways, and often transcend generations.</p>
<h2>Multiple levels</h2>
<p>Racism has been <a href="https://theconversation.com/how-the-dimensions-of-human-inequality-affect-who-and-what-we-are-137296">described</a> by sociologist Göran Therborn as an “existential inequality” that diminishes or denies agency and personhood. But racism is also a “vital inequality” in his classification because it shapes the human life course by determining life expectancy and overall health and well-being.</p>
<p>Racism operates at multiple levels to negatively affect health. Physical violence and rampant infectious diseases are the tip of the iceberg. Institutional racism negatively affects access to health services and healthy lifestyle choices by creating neighbourhoods or districts where people cannot thrive. </p>
<p>And when members of stigmatised racial populations respond to the pervasive negative racial stereotypes by accepting as true the dominant society’s beliefs about their biological and cultural inferiority, they can internalise the racism. Internalised racism manifests itself in many ways. It leads to lower self-esteem and psychological well-being. </p>
<p>When people are worried, day in and day out, about their safety, their future, and how they are being perceived by others because of racism, they experience stress and anxiety from recurrent humiliation. These effects are not transient, nor “merely” psychological. </p>
<p>It’s been known for years that the psychological stress attendant with racism has, for example, a <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4173800/">significant</a> <a href="https://www.mayoclinicproceedings.org/article/S0025-6196(17)30232-X/pdf">effect</a> on the development and progression of atherosclerosis, a precursor to serious heart disease. This outcome arose from a lifetime of experience. </p>
<p>But the full weight of psychological – and physical – damage caused by the chronic stress of racism is only now beginning to be fully understood.</p>
<h2>What is epigenetics?</h2>
<p>The social context in which a child lives is a powerful predictor of their adult health. It can also affect their genes, in ways that are only now being recognised.</p>
<p>One of the most disturbing set of discoveries in the field of <a href="https://www.whatisepigenetics.com/fundamentals/">epigenetics</a> is stress <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4807203/">can affect</a> the way an individual’s genes work, and that some of the stress-related changes can be inherited.</p>
<p><a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/politics/archive/2014/03/epigenetics-the-controversial-science-behind-racial-and-ethnic-health-disparities/430749/">Epigenetics</a> is the study of changes caused by modification of how genes work rather than by altering the genetic code itself. Epigenesis is the transmission of information to new cells during cell division that determines how genes are expressed – which genes present are “turned on” and which are silenced. </p>
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Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/how-the-dimensions-of-human-inequality-affect-who-and-what-we-are-137296">How the dimensions of human inequality affect who and what we are</a>
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<p>Studies of epigenetic changes can illustrate the specific biological mechanisms by which social conditions become physically embodied. What we are now understanding is how feedback loops are established by early life stressors causing negative emotions which cause biochemical and physiological <a href="https://ajph.aphapublications.org/doi/10.2105/AJPH.2018.304766">changes</a>. These in turn cause changes in behaviour that alter the chemical environment in which genes are being expressed. </p>
<p>The chain of events from genetic modification to behaviour is long and there is no predetermined conclusion, but the mere fact that this can happen is profoundly disturbing. That some of the genetic changes may be inherited is even more so.</p>
<h2>What to do about it</h2>
<p>When we grasp the reality that human bodies and genes are being constantly remodelled by the physical and social environment and by life experience, the inescapable conclusion is that we must fight the origins of health disparity at their root, in the early social environment and life experiences of every person.</p>
<p>It’s incumbent on all governments to recognise the seriousness of epigenetic influences on human well-being, especially in early life. Findings such as these should be used to promote widespread social reforms that fight the larger geographic, sociocultural, economic and political contexts in which health disparities are embedded.</p>
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Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/we-need-to-unpack-the-word-race-and-find-new-language-138379">We need to unpack the word 'race' and find new language</a>
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<p>In short, the development of a healthy citizenry depends on people growing up with adequate nutrition, protected from violence, gross insecurity and humiliation, and raised in environments conducive to the development of emotional security. We have known for a long time that poverty, poor nutrition, child abuse, trauma and fear were bad for health. </p>
<p>What epigenetic research offers is the shedding of light on the biological pathways through which such exposures are translated into concrete, measurable, increased risks of various diseases such as bipolar disease, asthma, adverse birth outcomes and the now widely recognised problem of decreased longevity. </p>
<p>Understanding how genes are differentially regulated by experience will affect how we conceptualise social inequalities and health disparities. </p>
<p>Rather than engaging in outdated ‘<a href="https://www.verywellmind.com/what-is-nature-versus-nurture-2795392">nature vs nurture</a>’ debates concerning race as a genetic or social construct, considering race as an epigenomic construct may be the most accurate and appropriate perspective yet. </p>
<p>The “real world” is the one in which we understand genes and the socially experienced world as perpetually entwined in the human body.</p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/338540/original/file-20200529-96699-18rjzg2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/338540/original/file-20200529-96699-18rjzg2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/338540/original/file-20200529-96699-18rjzg2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=838&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/338540/original/file-20200529-96699-18rjzg2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=838&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/338540/original/file-20200529-96699-18rjzg2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=838&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/338540/original/file-20200529-96699-18rjzg2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1053&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/338540/original/file-20200529-96699-18rjzg2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1053&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/338540/original/file-20200529-96699-18rjzg2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1053&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<p><em>This article is part of a <a href="https://theconversation.com/africa/search?utf8=%E2%9C%93&q=RaceSeries&sort=relevancy&language=en&date=all&date_from=&date_to=">series</a> that has been running for seven months. Other authors include <a href="https://theconversation.com/why-does-racism-prevail-leading-scholars-apply-their-minds-138363">Barney Pityana</a>, <a href="https://theconversation.com/how-the-dimensions-of-human-inequality-affect-who-and-what-we-are-137296">Göran Therborn</a>, <a href="https://theconversation.com/south-africa-needs-a-fresh-national-imagination-here-are-some-ideas-141450">Njabulo Ndebele</a>, <a href="https://theconversation.com/we-need-to-unpack-the-word-race-and-find-new-language-138379">George Chaplin</a>, <a href="https://theconversation.com/what-young-people-have-to-say-about-race-and-inequality-in-south-africa-141451">Kira Erwin and Kathryn Pillay</a>.</em> </p>
<p><em>The three edited volumes of essays published by African Sun Media in 2018 (<a href="https://stias.ac.za/ideas/publications/volume-11-the-effects-of-race/">The Effects of Race</a>, edited by Nina G. Jablonski and Gerhard Maré), 2019 (<a href="https://stias.ac.za/ideas/publications/stias-series-volume-13-race-in-education/">Race in Education</a>, edited by Gerhard Maré), and 2020 (<a href="https://stias.ac.za/ideas/publications/stias-series-volume-15-persistence-of-race/">Persistence of Race</a>, edited by Nina G. Jablonski) contain the complete representation of the project’s scholarship.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/141587/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Nina G. Jablonski does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Racism affects health and often leads to early death. We now know in greater and more alarming detail how this happens.Nina G. Jablonski, Evan Pugh University Professor of Anthropology, Penn StateLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1491672020-11-08T19:05:13Z2020-11-08T19:05:13ZNot a day passes without thinking about race: what African migrants told us about parenting in Australia<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/367409/original/file-20201104-19-hqztht.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=8%2C8%2C5982%2C3988&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Shutterstock</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Race informs how Black parents raise their children in Australia. Our <a href="https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1111/cfs.12799">study</a>, published in the journal Child and Family Social Work, found it complicates parenting in ways that non-Black parents might not have to consider. </p>
<p>We interviewed 27 highly skilled professional African migrants from eight different Sub-Saharan African countries about their experiences of employment, belonging and parenting in Australia. Parents of Black African children told us they had to consider how race affected the identity, perception, opportunities and well-being of their children. </p>
<p>One parent, who overheard her daughter telling her (white) friends about her experiences as a Black teenager, reflected:</p>
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<p>This week I heard her tell one of her friends; there is no one day that passes without her thinking about this (race). Yeah, and her friends were really, really […] shocked. They said they do not have to think about it. Then, she said, ‘Every day when I get on to the bus, you know, I think about who I am and if somebody is going to say something, when I am on the streets, you know, I think about what will somebody think or say or do.’</p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/367612/original/file-20201104-21-1fkxo8z.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A group of children run around at school." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/367612/original/file-20201104-21-1fkxo8z.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/367612/original/file-20201104-21-1fkxo8z.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=402&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/367612/original/file-20201104-21-1fkxo8z.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=402&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/367612/original/file-20201104-21-1fkxo8z.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=402&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/367612/original/file-20201104-21-1fkxo8z.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=505&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/367612/original/file-20201104-21-1fkxo8z.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=505&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/367612/original/file-20201104-21-1fkxo8z.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=505&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<span class="caption">Parents of Black African children report having to consider how race affected the identity, perception, opportunities and well-being of their children.</span>
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Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/growing-up-african-in-australia-racism-resilience-and-the-right-to-belong-113121">Growing Up African in Australia: racism, resilience and the right to belong</a>
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<h2>Parenting is complicated by race</h2>
<p>Many parents said they were unprepared for the extent to which race would become a defining marker of their parenting process in Australia. </p>
<p>One parent noted school was especially difficult for his children. He described instances in which his son had been called “a nigger” and threatened with violence, as well as fighting for his daughter’s rights to wear her afro-natural hair in school.</p>
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<p>It put a lot of pressure on them and on me as a parent to explain without creating differences between them and the white kids […] We create a lot of explanations and conversations around who they are.</p>
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<p>Parents of Black men and boys, in particular, reported feeling more concerned about the stereotype of black masculinity and how much more likely their sons were to be criminalised or <a href="https://www.policeaccountability.org.au/issues-and-cases/racial-profiling/">profiled by police</a>.</p>
<p>One parent said she constantly reminds her son that, because he is a young African male, he must </p>
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<p>…always be conscious wherever he goes or wherever he is.</p>
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<p>Some parents reported feeling overwhelmed and unprepared to support their children to deal with racial slurs, <a href="https://www.apa.org/monitor/2009/02/microaggression">micro-aggressions</a> (such as racial “jokes”, comments and “nicknames”) and racial exotification (such as hair-touching, invasive questions about their bodies or being described as “exotic”). </p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/367401/original/file-20201104-23-1s2yf9f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A parent and child cuddle." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/367401/original/file-20201104-23-1s2yf9f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/367401/original/file-20201104-23-1s2yf9f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/367401/original/file-20201104-23-1s2yf9f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/367401/original/file-20201104-23-1s2yf9f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/367401/original/file-20201104-23-1s2yf9f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/367401/original/file-20201104-23-1s2yf9f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/367401/original/file-20201104-23-1s2yf9f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<span class="caption">Parents of Black men and boys, in particular, reported feeling more concerned about the stereotype of black masculinity.</span>
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<h2>Teaching Black children about racial dignity</h2>
<p>Participants reported a significant aspect of parenting involved teaching their children about their blackness and self-worth.</p>
<p>Because blackness is often inferiorised in white-dominant contexts, many told us they felt if their children weren’t taught about racial dignity and self-worth, they would grow up internalising feelings of inferiority. </p>
<p>One parent explained how, for her two children:</p>
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<p>We have conversations about what they look like, how they are different to other people, and people may want to point out those differences. [We teach them] being different does not mean being inferior or anything like that […] we talk to them to be confident about who they are and to be proud about where they have come from and their African heritage.</p>
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<p>Another parent reflected:</p>
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<p>We have had instances […] where he has sort of alluded to the fact that somebody told him, ‘You are Black, you are not like us’. And we have taken that up very quickly with the school authorities (but) we have (also) tried to tell him in a soft way […] being African doesn’t make him inferior.</p>
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<h2>‘Having the talk’ and affirming children’s experiences</h2>
<p>Most parents in this study considered that explicitly teaching their children about race was necessary while growing up in Australia. </p>
<p>This involved “<a href="https://www.theglobeandmail.com/life/parenting/article-black-parents-having-the-talk-with-younger-kids-to-prepare-them-for/">having the talk</a>” and explaining to children about why their skin colour was different — preparing them to live in a world where their blackness was sometimes going to be a hindrance and how deal with such instances, including <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DrqufuL6eD8">interactions with police</a>. </p>
<p>This process of teaching children about race and racism while also sharing positive cultural knowledge, concepts racial dignity and resilience is called <a href="https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/16953684/">racial socialisation</a>.</p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/367405/original/file-20201104-13-xj3r2s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A parent and child walk to school." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/367405/original/file-20201104-13-xj3r2s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/367405/original/file-20201104-13-xj3r2s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/367405/original/file-20201104-13-xj3r2s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/367405/original/file-20201104-13-xj3r2s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/367405/original/file-20201104-13-xj3r2s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/367405/original/file-20201104-13-xj3r2s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/367405/original/file-20201104-13-xj3r2s.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<span class="caption">Most parents in this study reported explicitly teaching their children about race and racism was necessary while growing up in Australia.</span>
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<p>However, despite the efforts to instil a sense of pride about their African heritage in their children, many parents also encouraged their children to “curate or minimise” their blackness and/or Africanness in an effort to reduce their experiences of racism or racial profiling. </p>
<p>Others told us they pushed their children “to be exemplary”; that they <em>had</em> to be great representatives of the African/Black communities. </p>
<p>For the children, these expectations from family can lead to their blackness being worn as a “<a href="https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/full/10.1177/2158244017720483">burden</a>”. Parents, however, saw it as a necessary form of racial socialisation that prepares their children to <a href="https://srcd.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1111/cdev.13461?casa_token=9mOVlkg_Ry8AAAAA%3ASl7ezA1JYR9g4nqfT1i9OQMPW8J10noYs6PMptZj-AN-9r1Z8TI7RztSyVfPhFeGhuuOC-iRgqj03eZ-">face racial discrimination</a> with greater resilience.</p>
<h2>‘Colour-blind parenting’</h2>
<p>A minority of parents interviewed believed their children “<a href="https://www.todaysparent.com/kids/preschool/no-kids-are-not-colourblind/">do not see colour</a>” and tried their best “not to make race an issue”. One parent, for example, said:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>We always taught our children race is not an issue, we are all the same, so it was easy for them to fit in.</p>
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<p>Another parent said:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>…when it comes to my children, they do not really have that idea of […] ‘I am a certain colour’ […] we’ve not had that conversation because there has been no reason to. We are people, we are not ‘coloured’ people.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>This “<a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/answer-sheet/wp/2016/03/30/the-danger-of-teaching-children-to-be-colorblind/">colour-blind parenting</a>” aligns with mainstream Australian ideas that people “are all the same”, and that racism is not a significant issue in contemporary multicultural Australia. </p>
<p>While well-intentioned, such an approach might make it harder for children to discuss potential experiences of “racial otherness” with their parents.</p>
<h2>Where to from here?</h2>
<p>Media representations of African migrant families often depict irreconcilable cultural clashes after relocation. But our interviewees were able to successfully adapt and change their parenting behaviour and attitudes after migrating, which improved family dynamics.</p>
<p>If you’re a parent, talk with your children about race and racism, and its effects. It is important Black children know that they are not imagining their racialised experiences.</p>
<p>Think about ways you can introduce these concepts to your children. Young children can understand complex concepts when discussed in age-appropriate terms — and through humour. </p>
<p>Children’s books such as Sharee Miller’s <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/en/book/show/38929947-don-t-touch-my-hair">Don’t touch my hair!</a>, for example, help introduce the importance of setting — and respecting — personal boundaries. </p>
<p>We also summarised some tips on how to raise racially conscious children in an SBS video <a href="https://www.sbs.com.au/topics/voices/culture/article/2020/06/21/how-raise-racially-conscious-children">here</a>.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/the-politics-of-black-hair-an-australian-perspective-93270">The politics of black hair: an Australian perspective</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/149167/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Witnessing their children’s experiences of racism was particularly difficult, parents reported.Kathomi Gatwiri PhD, Senior lecturer, Southern Cross UniversityLeticia Anderson, Lecturer in Humanities, Southern Cross UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1383632020-07-02T14:49:36Z2020-07-02T14:49:36ZWhy does racism prevail? Leading scholars apply their minds<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/338333/original/file-20200528-51467-13z5520.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Patricia De Melo Moreira/AFP/Getty Images</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>All people belong to one biological species and there are no human “races”. So why does belief in race persist? It may be a scientific misconception, but it is real. It defines the lived experience of many people and determines how governments act and how people treat one another. How did race come to have this power and this durability? </p>
<p>A project was undertaken to address these very questions and to get at the heart of the “everydayness” of race in South Africa and elsewhere. Called the Effects of Race Project, it was started at the <a href="https://stias.ac.za/about/welcome/">Stellenbosch Institute for Advanced Study</a> in South Africa in 2013 as part of a broader project at the institute called <a href="https://stias.ac.za/ideas/themes/being-human-today/">Being Human Today</a>.</p>
<p>One of us (Jablonski) along with political sociologist Gerhard Maré organised and convened the <a href="https://stias.ac.za/2017/08/what-do-we-wish-to-change-with-regard-to-race-racism-and-racialism/">project</a>. Our goal was to create new scholarship that could eventually inform outlooks and policy on “race thinking”. </p>
<p>Seven years later, we wanted to present a brief summary of some of the outcomes of the project and why they matter. When we began the project, we couldn’t see exactly what the future held in store, but we knew that the poisons of race-thinking and racism were killing people. Temporary antidotes were no longer going to work. Soon, the toxic nature of race thinking and racism would be exposed and fully understood so that they could be expelled from the body of humanity. </p>
<h2>Act of discussion</h2>
<p>We gathered together <a href="https://stias.ac.za/ideas/projects/effects-of-race/">scholars</a> from South Africa, the US and Europe who had years of experience in thinking about race. They came from sociology, anthropology, geography, law, the humanities, and education. Some of them were anti-apartheid leaders and are still engaged in efforts to raise South Africans out of that chasm of injustice. </p>
<p>The group met for about two weeks each year from 2015 to 2017, in the cold of the winter in the Western Cape. At the beginning of our work we had little more than hope. We fully appreciated that race-thinking and racism were big and powerful topics that had defied and defeated many previous expectations. We also recognised that we needed to inspect common misconceptions about race and understand how these continued to exist in public policy ecosystems.</p>
<p>The perspectives on race and racism that each of us brought to the group were never the same, but we listened carefully and responded thoughtfully. Through successive discussions, we cultivated the mutual respect and trust that made it possible to venture into the most difficult and sensitive subjects at length without fear of judgment or reprisal. As one of our members, <a href="https://stias.ac.za/2015/08/future-must-suffocate-racism-stias-seminar-by-njabulo-ndebele/">Njabulo Ndebele</a>, put it one afternoon:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>The elephant is in the room, and we are petting it.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>We mused over whether we were not just being indulgent academics, failing to respond practically to matters that affect the lives of ordinary people. But we then realised that much of what we accomplished was the act of discussion itself. Significant insights and realisations emerged from honest, probing discussions among trusted parties. The process was as important as the subject matter. </p>
<p>We realised people of all ages and sorts, and especially children and youth, who had long been segregated by the weight of the built environment, needed more opportunities to mix in formal and informal settings, and share their experiences, dreams, and aspirations. This was not a new insight, but the fact that all of us felt its impact, to our bones, made it profound. </p>
<p>Constructive discussion could disable the reflexivity that paralyses much of the discourse about race and racism in South Africa and make it possible for us to grow in our appreciation of common humanity.</p>
<h2>The questions that need to be asked</h2>
<p>Through our many discussions, we did not solve many problems, but the exercise of discussing the roots and manifestations of race-thinking gave us such discomfort about the status quo that we are obliged to look for transcendent and transformational alternatives. We cannot in all honesty claim that we met our goal of creating “new scholarship” that will inform public policy as we had stated at the beginning of this project. </p>
<p>The more we examined this age-old matter the more we realised that race-thinking in South Africa and elsewhere was embedded in the consciousness of societies, even more so those societies that are racially mixed. South Africa’s constitution does not command us to live in a race-neutral or colour-blind society. All that it does in the preamble to the constitution is to enjoin us to</p>
<blockquote>
<p>heal the divisions of the past and establish a society based on democratic values, social justice and fundamental human rights.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>While our work does not provide solutions, it raises the questions that need to be asked, and provides some conceptual tools for understanding the complex dynamics of race in our society. We believe that we can be spared the absurdity of Sisyphus in Albert Camus’s essay The Myth of Sisyphus and instead be imbued with the determination to revolt and to overcome dependence on the futility of race. We hope that the sampling of our work will lead you to the same conclusion.</p>
<hr>
<p><em>This article is the first in a <a href="https://theconversation.com/africa/search?utf8=%E2%9C%93&q=RaceSeries&sort=relevancy&language=en&date=all&date_from=&date_to=">series</a> of six by Jablonski and Pityana, Göran Therborn, George Chaplin, Kira Erwin, Kathryn Pillay and Njabulo Ndebele.</em> </p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/338540/original/file-20200529-96699-18rjzg2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/338540/original/file-20200529-96699-18rjzg2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/338540/original/file-20200529-96699-18rjzg2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=838&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/338540/original/file-20200529-96699-18rjzg2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=838&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/338540/original/file-20200529-96699-18rjzg2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=838&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/338540/original/file-20200529-96699-18rjzg2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1053&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/338540/original/file-20200529-96699-18rjzg2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1053&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/338540/original/file-20200529-96699-18rjzg2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1053&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p><em>The next two articles will reflect race and the impact of othering and of language with Therborn’s thoughts on race and existential inequality and Chaplin and Jablonski discussing how the impoverished vocabulary of race contributes to the problem.</em> </p>
<p><em>The three edited volumes of essays published by African Sun Media in 2018 (<a href="https://stias.ac.za/ideas/publications/volume-11-the-effects-of-race/">The Effects of Race</a>, edited by Nina G. Jablonski and Gerhard Maré), 2019 (<a href="https://stias.ac.za/ideas/publications/stias-series-volume-13-race-in-education/">Race in Education</a>, edited by Gerhard Maré), and 2020 (<a href="https://stias.ac.za/ideas/publications/stias-series-volume-15-persistence-of-race/">Persistence of Race</a>, edited by Nina G. Jablonski), contain the complete representation of the project’s scholarship.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/138363/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Nina G. Jablonski receives funding from The Robert Wood Johnson Foundation and the National Science Foundation (U.S.). </span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Barney Pityana is affiliated with The 70s Group, an independent gathering of South African political activists from the 1970s. It aims to contribute to informed political and economic thinking in society.</span></em></p>There are, scientifically, no human races. How did race come to have this power and this durability?Nina G. Jablonski, Evan Pugh University Professor of Anthropology, Penn StateBarney Pityana, Professor Emeritus of Law, University of South AfricaLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1398122020-06-02T19:35:08Z2020-06-02T19:35:08ZWhat you should know about Black birders<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/339008/original/file-20200601-95054-fogumi.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C256%2C4679%2C3080&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">For Black birdwatchers, the outdoors is a relaxing space but not one free from racism and discrimination. </span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Shutterstock)</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Birdwatching is open to all. Unless you are Black. </p>
<p>This is the message Christian Cooper received as <a href="https://www.cnn.com/2020/05/27/us/birdwatching-black-christian-cooper/index.html">he was birding in New York City’s Central Park</a> last week. When Cooper asked a white woman to obey the posted signs regarding off-leash dogs, she called the police, claiming that her life was being threatened by an African American man. Christian Cooper filmed the encounter, which his sister posted online. It went viral, resulting in the woman being fired from her job.</p>
<p>There are different ways of looking at the encounter in the park.</p>
<p>Birding is one of the <a href="https://biodivcanada.chm-cbd.net/documents/canadian-nature-survey">most popular nature-based activities in Canada</a>. About a quarter of adults spend time watching, feeding or photographing birds. Birding is widespread as it is cheap and can be done close to home. It appeals to both women and men. <a href="https://doi.org/10.1177%2F2043610617703831">Birdwatching is a charming way to teach children about nature</a>. </p>
<p>Birdwatching is also a racialized hobby, where <a href="https://brill.com/view/book/edcoll/9781848881051/BP000018.xml">whiteness and white privilege</a> work together to keep it non-Black. What this means is that the birders are white, may belong to white birding clubs and go on birding walks in woodsy areas which are seen as white spaces. If they are lucky, they may encounter a Black birder once every decade. </p>
<p><div data-react-class="Tweet" data-react-props="{"tweetId":"1265647035077844994"}"></div></p>
<p>I am a Black birdwatcher, and I am also a researcher whose work focuses on how race shapes conservation, environmentalism and outdoor recreation. These fields are overwhelmingly white and noted for their lack of diversity.</p>
<h2>Rules for Black birders</h2>
<p>Ornithologist Drew Lanham has written <a href="https://orionmagazine.org/article/9-rules-for-the-black-birdwatcher/">nine rules for Black birders</a>, including: “Don’t bird in a hoodie. Ever.” In a recent update, he added: “<a href="https://www.vanityfair.com/style/2020/05/nine-new-revelations-for-the-black-american-bird-watcher">Roadrunners don’t get gunned down</a> for jogging through neighbourhoods, do they?” These pieces of advice refer to Trayvon Martin, a Black Florida teen killed while wearing a hoodie, and Ahmaud Arbery, a Black man from Georgia slain while running.</p>
<p>Racism in birdwatching is not a new phenomenon. The founder of modern bird conservation, John James Audubon, is rightly praised for his splendid books <em>Birds of America</em>. However, slavery paid for his birding activities: Audubon was born in Haiti and <a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/141605/john-james-audubon-by-richard-rhodes/">was the heir to a sugar plantation</a>.</p>
<p>On his arrival to the United States in 1803, he remained connected to slavery by buying and selling enslaved people. In fact, Audubon painted birds on a visit to Canada in 1833, the same year that <a href="https://www.dundurn.com/books/Emancipation-Day">slavery was abolished in Canada</a> and the rest of the British Empire.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/338970/original/file-20200601-95065-2e8li9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/338970/original/file-20200601-95065-2e8li9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/338970/original/file-20200601-95065-2e8li9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=645&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/338970/original/file-20200601-95065-2e8li9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=645&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/338970/original/file-20200601-95065-2e8li9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=645&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/338970/original/file-20200601-95065-2e8li9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=811&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/338970/original/file-20200601-95065-2e8li9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=811&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/338970/original/file-20200601-95065-2e8li9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=811&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Audubon’s <em>Birds of America</em> is a celebrated series of books cataloguing the continent’s birds. But its author, John James Audubon, was a direct beneficiary and participant in the slave trade.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">(John James Audubon)</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Ornithology, or the study of birds, <a href="https://doi.org/10.7202/019756ar">was also hatched as colonial discipline</a>. The quest to find and classify the birds of the world flew wing by wing with the spread of European empires and colonialism. <a href="https://yalebooks.yale.edu/book/9780300209617/birders-africa">White birders are credited with discoveries</a>, while the local people who taught them, guided them and prepared their scientific specimens are erased from the studies. </p>
<p>In the past, birds were hunted for food and for their feathers. <a href="https://www.abebooks.co.uk/9781781311493/Bird-Bush-Social-History-Birdwatching-1781311498/plp?cm_sp=plped-_-1-_-image">Watching birds for pleasure</a> took off in the early 1800s, as a counter to industrialization and brutish life in the cities. Early birding clubs were formed by and for white people. Modern birding and <a href="https://doi.org/10.1080/09669582.2014.924955">bird eco-tourism</a> are still dominated by this demographic. </p>
<h2>Black faces in the white outdoors</h2>
<p>I spend a lots of time in parks and conservation areas (<a href="https://www.taylorfrancis.com/books/9781315764849">which are, in turn, on Indigenous land</a>), either <a href="https://www.cbc.ca/listen/live-radio/1-63-the-current/clip/15621010-mecs-commitment-to-more-diverse-models-in-ads-is-welcome-if-overdue-say-critics">hiking</a>, cycling or looking for birds to add my life list. </p>
<p>In <a href="https://uncpress.org/book/9781469614489/black-faces-white-spaces/"><em>Black Faces, White Spaces</em></a>, geographer Carolyn Finney traces how the legacies of slavery warp African American experiences in outdoors recreation. Their visits to national parks are tainted by everyday racism and fears of racial violence; Black people are made to feel unwelcome, and treated as if they are intruders on what is supposedly public space.</p>
<p><a href="http://tupress.temple.edu/book/0701">In geography</a>, the racialization of space and the spatialization of race describes how Black people are expected to be penned in urban areas paved with concrete, and not in parks and free to enjoy nature. Nature is thus coded as a white space and Black people who venture there are seen as out of place. The same phenomenon occurs in Canada where <a href="https://www.ubcpress.ca/temagamis-tangled-wild">wilderness and whiteness</a> go together in our land of the Great White North. </p>
<p>The lack of role models is another obstacle to Black people’s participation in birdwatching. In one study, two-thirds of African Americans <a href="https://www.fs.usda.gov/treesearch/pubs/32150">had never met a birdwatcher</a>. People are less likely to try a new hobby if they don’t see someone like themselves doing so.</p>
<p>In response, Black outdoor activists and enthusiasts have established #BlackBirdersWeek as a social media celebration. According to a statement from former U.S. president Barack Obama, it should not be the new normal, where Black people are harassed in public spaces by white people or the police, including <a href="https://twitter.com/BarackObama/status/1266400635429310466">birdwatching in a park</a>. </p>
<p><div data-react-class="Tweet" data-react-props="{"tweetId":"1267479319019913216"}"></div></p>
<p>I got into birding by looking out the window. I saw a flash of crimson and dashed out to check it. I thought the poor bird was spray-painted bright red, as a prank by graffiti artists working on a nearby mural. Then, I spotted another pair of crimson wings. The cardinals sparked my love of birding. I hold on to this moment, this memory of joy, when I think of other Black people’s brush with colour and birdwatching.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/139812/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Jacqueline L. Scott does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>As Black birdwatcher Christian Cooper learned in New York City’s Central Park, nature is seen as a white space and Black birdwatching as an aberration.Jacqueline L. Scott, PhD Student, Social Justice Education, University of TorontoLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1180972019-06-27T07:42:39Z2019-06-27T07:42:39ZExtent of institutional racism in British universities revealed through hidden stories<p>“So how’s it going at work?” It’s a common question. The kind of question which normally opens a nice warm catch up between friends. But if you are a non-white academic, the question carries a different connotation.</p>
<p>You might respond to it with an eye-roll and a sigh, which tells your friend what they already know – work isn’t going well at all. For years I have been having this same conversation. It begins with that question. And just like that, we share.</p>
<p>We share the all too recognisable stories of racism. The frustrations and the relief that we are not alone, paranoid, or being unreasonable. These conversations equipped me mentally, they prepared me practically, and in doing so they have helped me to survive my workplace for the past 12 years.</p>
<p>But as I continued in my academic career, I soon got to thinking about all those people who were unable to share, who haven’t had the luxury of having others to speak to, who have felt alone, excluded and isolated. And so the foundations of my research began, as I sought to speak to those silent voices who as yet have not had the opportunity to fully communicate the depth and complexity of their answer to the question: “So how is work?”</p>
<h2>Endemic racism</h2>
<p>The fact is everyday racism is hiding behind a string of superficial tag lines that have come to brand universities across the UK. Myths about the “liberal” university can often be seen touted in marketing brochures, job announcements, and website pages, promoting the values and responsibilities of the institution.</p>
<p><strong>Myth 1: Universities encourage inclusivity and diversity</strong></p>
<p><strong>Myth 2: Universities invest in non-white academics</strong></p>
<p><strong>Myth 3: Universities are “post-racial”</strong></p>
<p><strong>Myth 4: Universities desire curriculum reform</strong></p>
<p><strong>Myth 5: Universities are committed to race equality</strong></p>
<p>Beyond these false advertising scams, the real message is clear and simple: racism in British universities is endemic. Academic research has pointed to this fact for <a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Institutional-Racism-Higher-Education-Ian/dp/1858563135">well over a decade</a>. Alongside the studies, there is also a catalogue of data that explicitly shows the bleak prospects for non-white academics. For example, statistics around Black and Minority Ethnic (BME) representation in universities continue to demonstrate that non-white academics are marginalised from British universities.</p>
<hr>
<p><em><strong>This article is part of Conversation Insights</strong></em></p>
<p><em>The Conversation’s <a href="https://theconversation.com/introducing-conversation-insights-a-new-team-that-seeks-scoops-from-interdisciplinary-research-107119">Insights team</a> generates long-form journalism derived from interdisciplinary research. The team is working with academics from different backgrounds who have been engaged in projects aimed at tackling societal and scientific challenges. In generating these narratives we hope to bring areas of interdisciplinary research to a wider audience.</em></p>
<p><em>You can read more Insights stories <a href="https://theconversation.com/uk/topics/insights-series-71218">here</a>.</em></p>
<hr>
<p>Data generated from the Higher Education Statistics Agency (HESA) in 2012-2013 revealed that out of 17,880 professors, <a href="https://www.runnymedetrust.org/blog/the-experiences-of-black-and-minority-ethnic-academics">only 85 were black</a>, 950 were Asian, 365 were “other” (including mixed race). The majority of 15,200 were white.</p>
<p>In terms of black female professors, there are <a href="https://www.runnymedetrust.org/news/594/272/Black-Students-Must-do-Better-than-White-Students-to-get-into-University.html">just 17 in the entire British university system</a>. And in January 2017, for the third year in a row, HESA figures recorded <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/education/2017/jan/19/british-universities-employ-no-black-academics-in-top-roles-figures-show">no black academics in the elite staff category</a> of managers, directors and senior officials in 2015-2016.</p>
<p>As a result of this skewed landscape, non-white academics are on the whole less likely to be shortlisted, appointed, or promoted in comparison to their white counterparts. In addition to this, it has been reported that BME academics at top universities across Britain earn on average <a href="https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/education-46473269">26% less than their white colleagues</a>.</p>
<p>The data is therefore showing us that very little has been done to encourage progress and racial equality in British universities. The failure of senior managers to accept or even acknowledge the existence of systematic racism operating in their universities, departments and boardrooms is where the heart of the problem lies. My research exposes the <a href="https://www.palgrave.com/gp/book/9783030142834">entrenched practices</a> of structural and everyday forms of racism in the white academy. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/race-and-academia-diversity-among-uk-university-students-and-leaders-24988">Race and academia: diversity among UK university students and leaders</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Personal stories of racism</h2>
<p>I conducted 20 in-depth interviews ranging from early career, mid-career, and advanced career academics, working either as lecturers or researchers, on permanent, part-time or fixed-term contracts. I spoke with a fairly equal mix of male and female respondents, and they came from a range of racial, ethno-national, and religious groups based at Russell Group and post-1992 universities across Britain.</p>
<p>The research is a collection of different voices. These people shared with me their pain, their strength, their challenges, their courage, and their resistance to racism in the academy. Whether in their office, or in a coffee shop, the conversations flowed. For some, it was like they needed the space to finally get things off their chest – a kind of therapy session, where they could speak about their experiences in the academy.</p>
<p>There were tears, sometimes from them, and at other times from me. There was also a sense of defiance, perseverance, and hope. Some conversations were particularly emotional and harder than others. On some occasions, hours and even days after they had taken place, I found myself replaying their experiences in my head, overcome with a deep feeling of sadness that our bodies had all been injured in some way or another by systemic, structural, and symbolic manifestations of racism in our universities. </p>
<h2>‘Liberal’ racism</h2>
<p>Subtle practices of racism in the form of <a href="https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/microaggressions-in-everyday-life/201010/racial-microaggressions-in-everyday-life">micro-aggressions</a> are often more challenging because they operate against the common sense understanding of racism as easily identifiable. My interviews reveal the way in which <a href="http://www.bbc.com/capital/story/20180406-the-tiny-ways-youre-offensive---and-you-dont-even-know-it">micro-aggressions</a> – the everyday slights and indignities non-white people encounter all the time – are intensely bound up with forms of structural “liberal” racism.</p>
<p>In the British university setting, liberal racism is perhaps the most dominant form of racism practised by white faculty staff members. For Eduardo Bonilla Silva, <a href="https://sociology.duke.edu/people/eduardo-bonilla-silva">professor of Sociology at Duke University</a>, liberal racism – or what he characterises as “<a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/Racism-without-Racists-Color-blind-Persistence/dp/1442202181">colourblind racism</a>” – takes the form “racism lite” or “smiling face discrimination”.</p>
<p><div data-react-class="Tweet" data-react-props="{"tweetId":"1140564431325278209"}"></div></p>
<p>What is essentially being described here is the idea of the “post-racial” which signals an apparent “end” of racism. This post-racial logic has steadily cemented itself into the very culture of our universities. The idea that we are “over race” is precisely how racism is sustained. This manifests itself in the dismissal or trivialisation of racism and operates to both facilitate and embolden it. The liberal, post-racial culture of denial, which my interviewees say is operating in British universities, has meant the daily realities of racism experienced by non-white academics are obscured, as white faculty members are unable to conceive themselves as perpetrators of racism.</p>
<p>As one said: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>Racism is much more insidious in HE (Higher Education). It’s this idea that they don’t want to look bad that gets to me the most. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>The notion that white colleagues are more nuanced in their exercise of racism – as they are keen to present themselves as “nice”, “respectable” and “tolerant” people –- was also echoed by another respondent: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>People in academia are a bit smarter, they’re more subtle and they understand what they can’t say. Everything is just a bit more institutionalised. But you get the sense that it’s also the place where things are unchecked. I think in general people try to be nice and they want to be nice but they have all these ingrained biases. </p>
</blockquote>
<h2>‘Sometimes it’s just so damn subtle’</h2>
<p>My participants frequently felt that such enactments of liberal racism produced hidden forms of differential treatment, which in most cases could not be placed as direct discrimination due to their very subtleties. Another academic told me:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>The problem with the day-to-day encounters of racism is that it’s difficult to pinpoint them down. I’ve felt that I’ve not been included a number of times, or I am the last person to be consulted on something. Sometimes it’s just so damn subtle. It’s in the gestures, it’s in what’s not said. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>Feelings of otherness, marginality, and white discomfort around difference, were all common, everyday experiences. Those I spoke to shared examples of their names being mispronounced by white staff members, being mistaken for the only other academic of colour in the department and being made to feel both visible and invisible at the same time.</p>
<p>These daily realities are indicative of the racism lurking beneath the “liberal” university, in which white colleagues like to claim that they are tolerant, and certainly not racist. But the examples given by my interviewees show that when confronted with these situations they can only revert back to their ingrained biases.</p>
<p>My participants went on to point out that the lack of other minorities within the institution produced feelings of alienation and discomfort as they were positioned as “outsiders”: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>I always feel like an outsider in the academy … like I am the only one … my experience of the academy is that I’m a black man in a white world. All it takes is for you to go to a meeting and you immediately realise that the one thing that is missing here is colour – there is no colour … it’s a colourless environment.</p>
</blockquote>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/280957/original/file-20190624-97766-zjael4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/280957/original/file-20190624-97766-zjael4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/280957/original/file-20190624-97766-zjael4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/280957/original/file-20190624-97766-zjael4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/280957/original/file-20190624-97766-zjael4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/280957/original/file-20190624-97766-zjael4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/280957/original/file-20190624-97766-zjael4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Are universities truly ‘post-racial’?.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/faculty-lecture-workshop-audience-hall-academic-240564688?src=rfLqlt-wRjbidbNSdpPTiQ-1-45&studio=1">Matej Kastelic/Shutterstock.com</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Teaching and decolonising the curriculum</h2>
<p>The classroom is often thought to represent a “safe space” that encourages critical learning and the exchange of ideas. But it would be naive to simply suggest the classroom is free from antagonism because it sits within the broader university environment which is structured by institutional racism. </p>
<p>In fact, my research demonstrates how the classroom can often become a key site in which white students may express feelings of resentment and guilt, as well as a place to confront their privilege. One respondent recalled: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>A white male undergraduate student challenged me on a series of issues when I explained the topic of political violence. He started to ask questions and make points that were Islamophobic. He was talking about child molestation by the Prophet Muhammad, how Islam had been a religion spread by the sword, how Muslims believed in female genital mutilation, and so on. I was constantly having to explain and defend a religion of over a billion people, because somehow in the eyes of the student, I was Islam. So I found that to be a really uncomfortable experience.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>All my participants said they were made to feel as though they lacked authority and credibility by many of their students. The notion of having to “prove” themselves was an experience that came up time and again. These incidents demonstrate the insidious workings of racism at play, whereby non-white academics have to almost always go the extra mile to prove their competence.</p>
<p>For example, another participant recalled how students “snigger”, “roll their eyes” and walk out of their classes and how uncomfortable this makes them:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>I start sweating, I start rushing my material and I just want to get it over with because it’s such a horrible experience. They make out over and over again that I don’t know what I’m talking about, or that I’m biased and it makes me extremely uncomfortable.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>From direct insults, to accusations of being biased, my interviews reveal that for some non-white academics, teaching can be a challenging experience. By being made to feel as though they lack authority or having to prove themselves, non-white academics encounter disruptive behaviour that is fundamentally racialised in nature.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/whiteness-characterises-higher-education-institutions-so-why-are-we-surprised-by-racism-93147">Whiteness characterises higher education institutions – so why are we surprised by racism?</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>The inability of the <a href="https://thetab.com/uk/2017/08/31/russell-group-unis-have-a-serious-diversity-problem-these-are-the-ones-with-the-fewest-bme-students-46742">largely white student body</a> to critically reflect upon their own histories, practices, and structures of oppression is symptomatic of white privilege, white entitlement and a lack of awareness of other cultures in general.</p>
<p>This suggests the need for universities to take seriously calls to decolonise the curriculum as a way to dismantle discourses and practices that reaffirm white superiority. Currently, intellectual agendas in British universities operate to maintain a narrow, inward looking perspective that reinforces the logics of <a href="https://www.penguin.co.uk/books/574/57454/orientalism/9780141187426.html">Orientalism</a> (the Western attitude that views Eastern societies as exotic, primitive, and inferior).</p>
<p>The call to decolonise seeks to equip students with more complex and critical understandings of global debates and issues as a way to generate more productive and insightful accounts, beyond eurocentric narratives. Decolonising the curriculum is vital to both the transformation of higher education and the development of inclusive, non-hostile spaces where difference is respected, not denigrated. </p>
<p><div data-react-class="Tweet" data-react-props="{"tweetId":"1141718949664567304"}"></div></p>
<h2>Career progression</h2>
<p>On the surface, universities have strutted out various strategies that seem to <a href="https://www.ecu.ac.uk/equality-charters/">promote positive action around equality</a>.</p>
<p>But beneath these jamborees the reality is dire. My respondents shared their experiences of being unsupported in applications for promotion, a lack of mentoring, job insecurity, and an overwhelming sense of being undervalued. The obstacles and challenges that they have encountered in relation to hiring practices and career progression are immense and for the most part <a href="https://www.independent.co.uk/news/education/education-news/90-of-black-staff-at-uk-s-colleges-at-universities-facing-barriers-to-promotion-a6860661.html">appear impossible to overcome</a>. One of my interviewees said:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>I don’t get the support networks, I don’t get the mentoring, but I get overburdened with teaching. I don’t see a future where I will progress. I see my white colleagues being encouraged, but that never seems to happen to me. There really is no support. It’s dismal. </p>
</blockquote>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/why-a-post-racial-british-society-remains-a-myth-even-in-universities-93607">Why a post-racial British society remains a myth – even in universities</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>Both my research and my own personal experience have shown that non-white academics are at a real loss without proper mentoring. It is so often the case that we go to other non-white academics (externally and informally), who take on mentoring in an unofficial capacity. This support has often been crucial for us, however, at the same time – as my respondents pointed out – it is utterly disgraceful that they have had to actively seek support in other places as a result of their own institutions failing to provide them with sufficient or appropriate mentoring.</p>
<p>Feelings of being “expendable” or “disposable” were common across my interviewees who frequently said employment opportunities tended to be “rigged” in favour of white candidates.</p>
<p>The inability to access (white) hidden rules or (white) hidden networks was a common experience across my interviews. The academics felt their future prospects, particularly in terms of promotion, were negatively impacted as a consequence. One said:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>I’ve always struggled to know what the rules are. I’ve gone to sessions on what you need to do to get promoted, but I think there’s a whole set of hidden rules that I don’t know or that I can’t find out and that’s frustrating.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>It comes as no surprise then that many of my respondents, despite having all the skills and knowledge, often found themselves continuously blocked from promotion and career advancement opportunities that were frequently afforded to their less established, white peers. </p>
<p>Another respondent commented:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>I know people are less experienced than me, who might have a similar role, but are on higher pay and at a higher grade. I look at the rate at which white colleagues are promoted and I often think how have they got that? I thought promotion was to be based on your value and what you put in, and it seems that isn’t the case. This is definitely about race.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Meanwhile another academic said:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>We have to be exceptional just to be ordinary. And I’m so sad this has manifested in higher education the way that it has. There’s no reprieve for us, there’s no meritocracy.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Discriminatory practices are entrenched within the university environment. My respondents felt that no amount of achievements could surpass whiteness, in other words, meritocracy in the academy is a myth. If non-white academics are to feel truly valued and supported then a series of structural, intellectual, and ethical obligations, must be implemented in higher education to ensure advancement and inclusion for all.</p>
<p>There must be a commitment across the university sector that recognises racism as a fundamentally structural issue. This means engaging with strategies that actively promote the inclusion of non-white academics <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/books/2019/jun/15/chelsea-kwakye-and-ore-ogunbiyi-taking-up-space-merky-books-interview">and students</a> (including those who are classified as international) to ensure that their needs are being addressed appropriately. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/280984/original/file-20190624-97745-1cu0wfu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/280984/original/file-20190624-97745-1cu0wfu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/280984/original/file-20190624-97745-1cu0wfu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/280984/original/file-20190624-97745-1cu0wfu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/280984/original/file-20190624-97745-1cu0wfu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=565&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/280984/original/file-20190624-97745-1cu0wfu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=565&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/280984/original/file-20190624-97745-1cu0wfu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=565&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Universities need to take steps to live up to their liberal reputations.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/aerial-view-glasgow-scotland-uk-644108704?src=tPCsPpkTfAYOkFS-poFIww-1-0&studio=1">CappaPhoto/Shutterstock.com</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Those of us from non-white backgrounds working and studying within British universities are quite simply fed up of the racism that we continue to endure on a daily basis. If universities are serious about tackling racism, discrimination and under-representation they must take the following steps. </p>
<p>1) Senior management must set annual targets to increase BME representation. To ensure this process is formalised, they must implement a systematic monitoring unit to measure hiring rates of BME staff and student admissions against targets. Regular audits of the data must be made available to all staff and failure to meet quotas should result in penalties.</p>
<p>2) Race equality needs to be on the agenda in every department across every university in the UK. Management committee meetings must report on these issues as a standing item to demonstrate the work that they are doing to tackle institutional racism.</p>
<p>3) Mentoring schemes for new and current BME staff members need be formalised, and they should be partnered with a colleague who is sensitive and fully committed to supporting their needs around career progression and personal development.</p>
<p>4) Promotions committees must take equality issues into special consideration for BME applicants.</p>
<p>5) An independent ombudsman must be established who can properly investigate racist and other discriminatory practices.</p>
<p>6) A commitment to decolonising the curriculum must be led by university management. </p>
<p>7) University and departmental policies on race equality must be fully implemented and formally reviewed and updated on an annual basis.</p>
<p>For too long, non-white academics have been absent from the conversation. We need to feel like we are included within the debate and that our voices matter. The day-to-day and structural racist operations of the university need to be systematically reviewed and these failures need to be addressed seriously. Race equality must be practised in the academy, not just preached. </p>
<hr>
<p><em>Katy Sian’s new book <a href="https://www.palgrave.com/gp/book/9783030142834">Navigating Institutional Racism in British Universities</a> is published by Palgrave Macmillan.</em></p>
<hr>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/313478/original/file-20200204-41481-1n8vco4.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/313478/original/file-20200204-41481-1n8vco4.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=112&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/313478/original/file-20200204-41481-1n8vco4.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=112&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/313478/original/file-20200204-41481-1n8vco4.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=112&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/313478/original/file-20200204-41481-1n8vco4.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=140&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/313478/original/file-20200204-41481-1n8vco4.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=140&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/313478/original/file-20200204-41481-1n8vco4.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=140&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
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<span class="caption"></span>
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<p><em>For you: more from our <a href="https://theconversation.com/uk/topics/insights-series-71218?utm_source=TCUK&utm_medium=linkback&utm_campaign=TCUKengagement&utm_content=InsightsUK">Insights series</a>:</em></p>
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<li><p><em><a href="https://theconversation.com/the-neuroscience-of-terrorism-how-we-convinced-a-group-of-radicals-to-let-us-scan-their-brains-114855?utm_source=TCUK&utm_medium=linkback&utm_campaign=TCUKengagement&utm_content=InsightsUK">The neuroscience of terrorism: how we convinced a group of radicals to let us scan their brains</a></em></p></li>
<li><p><em><a href="https://theconversation.com/they-put-a-few-coins-in-your-hands-to-drop-a-baby-in-you-265-stories-of-haitian-children-abandoned-by-un-fathers-114854?utm_source=TCUK&utm_medium=linkback&utm_campaign=TCUKengagement&utm_content=InsightsUK">‘They put a few coins in your hands to drop a baby in you’ – 265 stories of Haitian children abandoned by UN fathers</a></em></p></li>
<li><p><em><a href="https://theconversation.com/the-new-right-how-a-frenchman-born-150-years-ago-inspired-the-extreme-nationalism-behind-brexit-and-donald-trump-117277?utm_source=TCUK&utm_medium=linkback&utm_campaign=TCUKengagement&utm_content=InsightsUK">The New Right: how a Frenchman born 150 years ago inspired the extreme nationalism behind Brexit and Donald Trump</a></em></p></li>
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<p><em>To hear about new Insights articles, join the hundreds of thousands of people who value The Conversation’s evidence-based news. <a href="https://theconversation.com/uk/newsletters/the-daily-newsletter-2?utm_source=TCUK&utm_medium=linkback&utm_campaign=TCUKengagement&utm_content=InsightsUK"><strong>Subscribe to our newsletter</strong></a>.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/118097/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>This article is based on my recently published book: Navigating Institutional Racism in British Universities, Palgrave Macmillan. </span></em></p>It’s time race equality was practised in the academy, not just preached.Katy Sian, Lecturer in Sociology, University of YorkLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1151182019-04-14T19:14:31Z2019-04-14T19:14:31ZEveryday racism fuels prejudice and hate. But we can challenge it<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/268902/original/file-20190412-44785-j5kxnd.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=21%2C203%2C4659%2C2884&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Establishing relationships with people who are different from ourselves is one of the best approaches to reducing prejudice. </span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">(AAP/Jono Searle</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>In the aftermath of the Christchurch terror attacks a month ago, New Zealanders are grappling with difficult, albeit necessary, questions about discrimination and casual racism. </p>
<p>The response to the horrific attack has been heartwarming. Tens of thousands of people from different backgrounds offered support to the Muslim community and paid their respects to those senselessly killed and wounded. The response of Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern has been similarly refreshing, and has become a <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/2019/apr/06/jacinda-ardern-intuitive-courage-new-zealand">global talking point</a>. This gives us hope for a better future. </p>
<p>But lurking behind news articles and commentary proclaiming that this is “not us”, debate is growing about what this atrocity also tells us that we have been <a href="https://www.aljazeera.com/indepth/opinion/hypocrisy-zealand-claim-190319104526942.html">reticent to acknowledge</a>.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/how-to-challenge-racism-by-listening-to-those-who-experience-it-113909">How to challenge racism by listening to those who experience it</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Everyday racism links to extremism</h2>
<p>In some ways, both of these narratives ring true. On the one hand, we have bought into New Zealand’s <a href="https://www.socialprogress.org/?code=NZL">high global ranking for tolerance and inclusion</a>. On the other hand, New Zealand’s Human Rights Commission (<a href="https://www.hrc.co.nz/">HRC</a>) and those of us who research prejudice and bigotry <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S0277953611007143">routinely find evidence for everyday experiences of casual racism</a>. These experiences give extremism the space it needs to breathe. </p>
<p>One in three of the complaints received by the HRC in New Zealand is about <a href="https://www.hrc.co.nz/news/give-nothing-racism">racial discrimination</a>. In 2017, the commission launched a <a href="https://givenothing.co.nz/">Give Nothing to Racism</a> campaign fronted by acclaimed film director <a href="https://www.nzonscreen.com/person/taika-waititi">Taika Waititi</a>.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/g9n_UPyVR5s?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">The New Zealand Human Rights Commission launched a campaign in 2017 to highlight everyday racism.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Everyday, or “casual” racism and bigotry can appear relatively subtle or blatant. It may include comments such as complimenting someone who doesn’t fit the dominant group for being “well-spoken”, calling someone a “good” Muslim/Māori/Asian, excusing race-based jokes or comparisons as “just joking”. These seemingly benign comments are often accompanied with more blatant experiences of ethnic slurs, being told to go back to one’s country, or managers admitting they do not hire people with “foreign” sounding names (a violation of New Zealand law). </p>
<p>Compounded with such day-to-day experiences is research spanning decades and using a variety of tools (including neuroscience methods, reaction-time measures, and behavioural measures) to show bigotry lies on a <a href="https://www.cambridge.org/core/books/cambridge-handbook-of-the-psychology-of-prejudice/07E1499F3EFD03B6551AD3131F1F3248">continuum from blatant to subtle</a>. </p>
<p>It’s worth mentioning, even subtle biases contribute to <a href="https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/abs/10.1177/0149206313506466">negative outcomes for minority groups</a>’ health, well-being and participation in wider society. And even subconsciously perceiving minorities as “less civilised” can fuel intergroup conflict and <a href="https://psycnet.apa.org/record/2008-00466-008">violence towards minority groups</a>, as shown by <a href="https://www.annualreviews.org/doi/full/10.1146/annurev-psych-010213-115045">decades of research</a></p>
<p>While terrorism may represent the actions by a small number of extremists, they are fuelled by <a href="https://psycnet.apa.org/doiLanding?doi=10.1037%2F0022-3514.82.3.359">social norms</a> that allow these ideologies to take root and propagate. As acclaimed French theorist <a href="https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/baudrillard/">Jean Baudrillard</a> observed in <a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/232655/the-spirit-of-terrorism-by-jean-baudrillard/9781781680209/">The Spirit of Terrorism</a>:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>terrorism merely crystallizes all the ingredients in suspension.</p>
</blockquote>
<h2>Social norms shape attitudes</h2>
<p>This does not imply that communities themselves are responsible for acts of terrorism, but rather that terrorism reflects what circulates in geopolitics, national politics, normative beliefs of those around us, the media and the influence of other ideological and social forces. <a href="https://www.radionz.co.nz/news/the-wireless/375128/hear-that-dog-whistle-how-to-spot-signs-of-white-supremacy">Global context</a> is, of course, important, but New Zealand now needs to reflect on how <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/1047840X.2017.1335568">social norms within our own community</a> can inadvertently promote hate and prejudice.</p>
<p>In Christchurch, and New Zealand more generally, extremist groups have been <a href="https://www.stuff.co.nz/national/christchurch-shooting/111417426/small-town-new-zealand-not-exempt-from-white-supremacists">omnipresent for decades</a>. Just last year, there was a white supremacist march down a main street in Christchurch that received numerous car horn toots of support. Students in Auckland have reported an <a href="https://www.radionz.co.nz/news/national/386887/white-supremacist-movement-growing-at-auckland-uni-students-say">increase in extremist group messaging on campus</a>, even after the disbanding of a controversial European student association. </p>
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<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/christchurch-mosque-shootings-must-end-new-zealands-innocence-about-right-wing-terrorism-113655">Christchurch mosque shootings must end New Zealand's innocence about right-wing terrorism</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
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<p>More broadly, data from the New Zealand Attitudes and Values Survey (<a href="https://www.psych.auckland.ac.nz/en/about/our-research/research-groups/new-zealand-attitudes-and-values-study.html">NZAVS</a>) show that 28% of New Zealanders are willing to express negative <a href="https://journals.plos.org/plosone/article?id=10.1371/journal.pone.0174606">feelings toward Muslims</a>. Fortunately, this is where all of us may be able to contribute to reinforcing the inclusive and tolerant society we tout in international rankings.</p>
<h2>Where to from here</h2>
<p>Well-intentioned and fair-minded people are often unaware of everyday experiences of members of minority groups. They often dismiss them as unrepresentative because the majority has a psychological investment in believing it “doesn’t happen here”. But such experiences do happen here as empirical research consistently finds, and these experiences cannot be undone simply through a similar number of positive experiences. People have a <a href="https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/full/10.1037/1089-2680.5.4.323">“negativity bias”</a>, which means that negative events are weighed more heavily than positive ones. And if we have limited opportunities to forge meaningful close connections with people from other groups, then all it takes is a handful of negative experiences to wash away the benefits of other positive interactions and create distrust and social distancing between groups. <a href="https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/abs/10.1002/ejsp.2052">Research shows</a> although positive experiences are more common, negative experiences influence our attitudes more strongly. </p>
<p>Even as we work in increasingly diverse workplaces, our social circles tend to be fairly homogenous. Data from the <a href="https://www.psych.auckland.ac.nz/en/about/our-research/research-groups/new-zealand-attitudes-and-values-study.html">NZAVS</a> show that as recently as 2017, 64% of White New Zealanders report that they did not spend any time in the last week socialising with someone Māori. Some 83% say the same about socialising with someone Pasifika, and 77% report spending no time with someone Asian, suggesting that for many of us, our social networks are largely homogenous. </p>
<p>While this is similar to patterns elsewhere in the world, these homogenous networks create psychological distance between “us” and “them”. This also insulates us from hearing differing perspectives because minorities often fear that they will be <a href="https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/abs/10.1177/0146167201272010">seen as complainers</a> if they share negative experiences in casual settings. </p>
<p>Instead, establishing relationships with people who are different from ourselves promotes <a href="https://psycnet.apa.org/record/2013-35832-004">positive intergroup contact</a>, which is one of the most well-established approaches to reducing prejudice. Similarly, promoting social environments that encourage <a href="https://edinburghuniversitypress.com/book-multiculturalism-and-interculturalism.html">dialogue and cooperation</a>, establishing common goals and providing opportunities for <a href="https://psycnet.apa.org/record/2012-22394-001">multicultural experiences</a> offer some starting points for how to move forward.</p>
<p>At a time when the UN estimates more than <a href="https://www.un.org/development/desa/publications/international-migration-report-2017.html">250 million people live outside of their country of birth</a>, cultural diversity is an inevitable reality. It means we must learn to live and work together, and at the very least <a href="https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/full/10.1177/1088868316640974">tolerate our differences</a>. If each of us works to remove everyday bigotry within our immediate environment, we make it that much harder for extremist ideologies to take hold.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/115118/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Kumar Yogeeswaran receives funding from the Russell Sage Foundation for an unrelated project. </span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Chris G. Sibley receives funding from the Templeton Religion Trust (TRT0196) and the Royal Society of New Zealand Marsden Fund </span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Marc Wilson receives funding from the Marsden Fund for an unrelated project. </span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Danny Osborne and Mike Grimshaw do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>New Zealand’s response to the Christchurch terror attacks reinforced an image of an inclusive society, but we still have work to do.Kumar Yogeeswaran, Senior Lecturer in Social Psychology, University of CanterburyChris G. Sibley, Professor, University of Auckland, Waipapa Taumata RauDanny Osborne, Associate Professor of Political Psychology, University of Auckland, Waipapa Taumata RauMarc Wilson, Professor of Psychology, Te Herenga Waka — Victoria University of WellingtonMike Grimshaw, Associate Professor of Sociology, University of CanterburyLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/743532017-03-16T02:22:29Z2017-03-16T02:22:29ZHow online hate infiltrates social media and politics<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/160794/original/image-20170314-10763-ytfp4l.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">From person to person, the spread of online hate can be rapid.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-illustration/crowd-small-symbolic-3d-figures-network-36074200">Connections via shutterstock.com</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>In late February, the headline of a news commentary website that receives more than 2.8 million monthly visitors announced, “<a href="https://web.archive.org/web/20170309200734/http://www.dailystormer.com/philly-jews-destroy-another-one-of-their-own-graveyards-to-blame-trump/">Jews Destroy Another One of Their Own Graveyards to Blame Trump</a>.” The story, inspired by the <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/post-nation/wp/2017/02/26/dozens-of-headstones-vandalized-at-philadelphia-jewish-cemetery/">recent desecration of a Jewish cemetery in Philadelphia</a>, was the seething fantasy of an anti-Semitic website known as the Daily Stormer. With only a headline, this site can achieve something no hate group could have accomplished 20 years ago: It can connect with a massive audience.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/160367/original/image-20170310-19247-x8cvg1.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/160367/original/image-20170310-19247-x8cvg1.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/160367/original/image-20170310-19247-x8cvg1.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=298&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/160367/original/image-20170310-19247-x8cvg1.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=298&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/160367/original/image-20170310-19247-x8cvg1.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=298&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/160367/original/image-20170310-19247-x8cvg1.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=375&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/160367/original/image-20170310-19247-x8cvg1.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=375&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/160367/original/image-20170310-19247-x8cvg1.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=375&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Hate speech moves rapidly from the fringe to the mainstream.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://web.archive.org/web/20170309200734/http://www.dailystormer.com/philly-jews-destroy-another-one-of-their-own-graveyards-to-blame-trump/">Screenshot of DailyStormer.com</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>To whom, and how many, this latest conspiracy may travel is, in part, the story of “<a href="https://theconversation.com/us/topics/fake-news-33438">fake news</a>,” the phenomenon in which biased propaganda is disseminated as if it were objective journalism in an attempt to corrupt public opinion. My recent book on digital hate culture, “<a href="http://www.palgrave.com/us/book/9783319514239">Fanaticism, Racism, and Rage Online</a>,” explores the online underworld from which many of those false narratives originate. I investigate the lesser-known source of all this hate-laced “news” simmering in our public debates, helping to cultivate a distorted reality for its ardent believers and a fractured polity for the rest of us.</p>
<p>Looking at the most-visited websites of what were once <a href="http://www.starnewsonline.com/news/20020805/skinhead-rally-is-laughable-in-southern-town">diminished movements</a> – white supremacists, xenophobic militants and Holocaust deniers, to name a few – reveals a much-revitalized online culture. For example, according to <a href="https://www.similarweb.com/website/stormfront.org">SimilarWeb analytics</a>, Stormfront, the longest-standing white supremacist site, receives more than two million monthly visitors. That is half a million more than the <a href="http://www.naacp.org/">NAACP</a>, <a href="http://www.glaad.org/">GLAAD</a>, the <a href="http://www.adl.org/">Anti-Defamation League</a> and <a href="http://www.nclr.org/">National Council of La Raza</a> websites, combined.</p>
<p>But size and scope alone do not account for the unprecedented reach that these websites have found in the digital age. Their ascent mirrors the improbable rise of former KKK Imperial Wizard <a href="https://www.splcenter.org/fighting-hate/extremist-files/individual/david-duke">David Duke</a>, who shed his Klan robes for an eventual seat in the Louisiana House of Representatives. Today’s radical right is also remaking its profile, swapping swastikas and white-power rock for political blogs and news forums. The trappings may have changed, but the bigotry remains.</p>
<h2>Looking the part</h2>
<p>The American Renaissance hate site opens with a quote from Thomas Jefferson and an offering of timely news articles. These include borrowed headlines from The New York Times about looming deportation policies and Associated Press stories on Texas voter ID laws. But there is an ever-present fixation on nationality and race, as in original commentaries like “How I Saw the Light About Race.” Weaving together real news with racist views, the site stealthily positions the fringe ideas as aligned with the mainstream.</p>
<p>On the Occidental Observer (tagline: “White Identity, Interests, and Culture”), white nationalist contributors and a few former scholars speculate on forum topics like “The Holocaust Industry,” “Jewish Influence” and the “Racialization of America.” The Observer looks much like the homepage of any policy think tank, except for the conspiracy-driving anti-Semitic subtexts. </p>
<p>For online hate groups like this, perception is reality. The common emphasis on news and politics reflects a shift in the messages racist groups promote. Many no longer focus on white supremacy, but rather take the more accessible position of white victimization.</p>
<p>The headlines emanating from websites like the Daily Stormer allow contemporary racists to imagine they are now a minority race under siege. These narratives include an imagined onslaught of illegal immigrants, a fear of <a href="https://web.archive.org/web/20170315192111/http://www.dailystormer.com/section/race-war/">black-on-white crime</a>, an equal rights movement that somehow infringes on religious freedom and a <a href="https://web.archive.org/web/20170315192142/http://www.dailystormer.com/?s=The+Jews+behind+the+pro-Globalist+Super+Bowl+Ads">Jewish globalist machine</a> supposedly behind it all.</p>
<p>Hate rhetoric repackaged as politics and housed in websites that look just like any other online blog can attract, or even persuade, more moderate ideologues to wade into extremist waters. This “user-friendly” hate community is joining forces in a way that could never happen in the offline world. Thanks in part to this connectedness, these poisoned narratives are now spreading well beyond racist websites. </p>
<h2>How it travels</h2>
<p>The speed with which online hate travels is breathtaking. Two days after that Daily Stormer story on “Jews Destroying Their Own Graveyards,” David Duke discussed “<a href="https://web.archive.org/web/20170315192214/http://davidduke.com/dr-duke-and-andrew-anglin-expose-the-jewish-media-falso-flag-psych-war-to-stifle-criticism-of-jewish-media-domination/">the likelihood that the recent string of ‘anti-Semitic hate incidents’ are in fact false flag hoaxes</a>” on his podcast.</p>
<p><div data-react-class="Tweet" data-react-props="{"tweetId":"835136526048714752"}"></div></p>
<p>The conspiracy had also begun to echo around Twitter, where Duke was sharing a link to his podcast and spreading a new hashtag: <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/fakehatecrimes">#fakehatecrimes</a>. More people joined in, including followers tweeting “This is a hoax” and “Question the local rabbis.” A senior adviser to President Trump took to Twitter to advance his theory that ongoing threats to Jewish community centers could be <a href="http://www.rawstory.com/2017/02/trump-adviser-suggests-democrats-are-threatening-jewish-centers-to-make-conservatives-look-bad/">linked to the Democrats</a>.</p>
<p>This is but one example of how, despite recent efforts to <a href="http://www.usatoday.com/story/tech/news/2016/11/15/twitter-suspends-alt-right-accounts/93943194/">limit fanatical voices</a>, <a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/news/archive/2016/05/europe-hate-speech-social-media/484913/">social networks</a> have become incubators of toxic conspiracies. The topic of “hate crime hoaxes,” for example, has long been circulating through <a href="https://www.reddit.com/r/HateCrimeHoaxes/">Reddit</a>, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=hate+crime+hoax">YouTube</a> and even <a href="https://www.facebook.com/myiannopoulos/videos/744338082370756/">Facebook</a>. Meanwhile, in the far-right blogosphere, sites like <a href="http://www.breitbart.com/milo/2016/05/02/hate-crime-hoaxes-growing-epidemic/">Breitbart</a>, <a href="https://www.infowars.com/man-arrested-for-jewish-center-bomb-threats-is-an-anti-trump-muslim-convert/">InfoWars</a> and <a href="http://www.wnd.com/2016/11/big-spike-in-hate-crimes-not-so-fast/">WorldNetDaily</a> dedicate more space to obsessively “debunking” hate crimes than actually reporting on them. These two worlds seamlessly come together on Twitter, where conspiracies intermix with <a href="https://twitter.com/ReturnOfTheOrb/status/836704421576912898">political diatribes</a>. </p>
<p>For hate groups, this is an unprecedented opportunity to finally plug their fringe movements into a mainstream circuit. As false narratives flow through the internet’s popular networks, they intermingle with legitimate information and gradually become washed of their radical origins in the process. It’s the same trajectory that drove the <a href="http://www.politico.com/story/2011/04/birtherism-where-it-all-began-053563">birther conspiracy</a>. Questions about President Obama’s “true birthplace” began on the fringes of the web, found support in more traditional right-wing blogs like Free Republic, and then made their way onto television.</p>
<p>Technology columnist Farhad Manjoo <a href="https://www.pbs.org/newshour/amp/bb/does-the-internet-help-or-hurt-democracy">described this phenomenon</a>, which we’ve now seen morph into fake news:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>“The extreme points of views that we’re getting that couldn’t have been introduced into national discussion in the past are being introduced now by this sort of entry mechanism … people put it on blogs, and then it gets picked up by cable news, and then it becomes a national discussion.”</p>
</blockquote>
<h2>Opportunistic politicians lend credibility</h2>
<p>There is little doubt that a key reason so much bad information has spilled over into today’s national discourse is politicians who embrace and perpetuate these narratives. Of course, doing so only gives the authors of conspiracy the very exposure they seek. </p>
<p>When, a year before the 2016 election, Donald Trump <a href="http://www.politifact.com/truth-o-meter/statements/2015/nov/23/donald-trump/trump-tweet-blacks-white-homicide-victims/">tweeted false statistics</a> about the number of “whites killed by blacks” in America, white nationalists were listening. The evidence could be in seen in the celebratory headlines to follow in websites like Stormfront and Daily Stormer.</p>
<p>Credibility has always been an ultimate but elusive goal for extremists. But online, they’re learning how to dilute the message of bigotry with heavy doses of political conspiracy for which there is apparently a welcoming audience. They achieve victory simply by injecting enough fake news into the system to produce doubt and discord around our most critical cultural debates.</p>
<p>When he was asked about the recent anti-Semitic threats and vandalism, President Trump told the Pennsylvania attorney general the incident was “reprehensible.” But he then went on to speculate that it might have been committed “<a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/the-fix/wp/2017/02/28/trump-is-reportedly-hinting-that-anti-semitic-incidents-are-false-flags-it-wouldnt-be-the-first-time/">to make others look bad</a>.” That feeds the very doubt that extremist groups thrive on. And the cycle continues.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/74353/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Adam G. Klein does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>Today’s radical right is remaking its profile, using online communications to spread its message farther and deeper into our society than ever possible before.Adam G. Klein, Assistant Professor of Communication Studies, Pace University Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/691862016-12-01T10:22:32Z2016-12-01T10:22:32ZBlacking up has long been part of Dutch winter festivities – finally, this seems to be changing<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/147976/original/image-20161129-17016-1lelqxl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">pluut / Shutterstock.com</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Every year in November and December, thousands of Dutch people paint themselves black or dark brown and process through towns to celebrate the feast of Saint Nicholas. After decades of activism against this tradition, the scales are finally tipping. Within a few years, opinion has shifted from an utter failure to understand the protests, to attempts at change. But how did the Dutch manage to be blind to the offensive character of this tradition for so long? Is Dutch culture perhaps more racist than its progressive reputation suggests?</p>
<p>Dutch society is certainly suffused with racism – as is Western culture generally. Yet most racism – “<a href="https://uk.sagepub.com/en-gb/eur/understanding-everyday-racism/book3570">everyday racism</a>” – is not committed deliberately, which in many ways makes it harder to challenge. It often takes the shape of casual remarks or unconscious judgements. In the Netherlands, one of the forms this everyday racism has taken is Black Pete, <em>Zwarte Piet</em>.</p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/146796/original/image-20161121-4524-rnlqyt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/146796/original/image-20161121-4524-rnlqyt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/146796/original/image-20161121-4524-rnlqyt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=995&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/146796/original/image-20161121-4524-rnlqyt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=995&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/146796/original/image-20161121-4524-rnlqyt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=995&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/146796/original/image-20161121-4524-rnlqyt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1251&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/146796/original/image-20161121-4524-rnlqyt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1251&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/146796/original/image-20161121-4524-rnlqyt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1251&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Zwarte Piet in a department store in Amsterdam.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Nik Morris/flickr</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/">CC BY-SA</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Black Pete is part and parcel of the feast of Saint Nicholas. Nicholas of Myra, Roman Catholic patron saint of children, sailors and prostitutes, has in some Protestant countries metamorphosed into Santa Claus and Father Christmas. In the partly Protestant Netherlands, his feast, which has medieval roots, continues to be celebrated separately. </p>
<p>It is the country’s largest annual celebration, eliciting more eager anticipation and mobilising more public and commercial institutions than King’s Day and Liberation Day put together. The festival peaks on December 5 but officially starts halfway through November, taking possession of the shops as early as late summer. It is primarily aimed at children, and the experiences it inspires are among the fondest childhood memories many Dutch people have. </p>
<p>The festivities have moral overtones of reward and punishment. Black Pete’s role has never been fixed, but during the last few decades it has been Pete who mediates between the anxious child and the godlike figure of Saint Nicholas. Whereas the latter evokes a degree of fear, Pete is approachable and loveable. This explains part of the attachment many Dutch feel towards Pete.</p>
<h2>Depicting Pete</h2>
<p>But clearly depicting Black Pete is no innocent business. The figure has a dual ancestry as both servant to and antagonist of the saint. In many parts of Europe, performances of Nicholas have long been accompanied by an anti-saint or devil, in order to ensure that both reward and punishment remain on the minds of their audiences. Sometimes, this devil carries a chain as a sign of his final submission to the power of good. </p>
<p>The chain returns gruesomely in the more recent tradition, beginning in the 19th century, that portrays Pete as an African man in the service of a European saint. Although dark-skinned servants in the Netherlands could not technically be enslaved in that period, slavery did very much exist in the overseas territories of the Dutch empire. It is this history that most activists point to as being silenced by the uncritical acceptance of Pete in his existing shape. To aggravate matters, in the 20th century Pete merged with the Sambo caricature, the stereotypically lazy and docile plantation slave with his red lips, golden earrings and infantile behaviour that could be found in many (children’s) books.</p>
<p>The endurance of Black Pete always comes as a shock to those unfamiliar with the Dutch custom, particularly those from English-speaking countries. Anti-racism activists in the Netherlands have made grateful use of this cultural disjunction between the Anglophone and the Germanic world (blacking up also occurs in countries such as Belgium and Germany) by <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AMuQtk0Reqo">confronting their compatriots with the judgement of international experts</a>, or through use of <a href="http://www.documentairenet.nl/review/2doc-zwart-als-roet-colonial-hangover/">the British vox pop</a>.</p>
<p>This approach, coupled with demonstrations and judicial action, seems to be taking effect. Although there have been protests since the 1960s, these were never picked up by the mainstream media or in national politics on the scale we are seeing now. This year, an unprecedented number of Dutch intellectuals and celebrities spoke out against the stereotype; national politicians have taken a stance; and sellers of seasonal sweets and decorations have deemed it wise to change their marketing strategy.</p>
<h2>Innocence</h2>
<p>So why has Pete been able to pose as innocent for so long? </p>
<p>Lacking a civil rights movement like the one in the US, including subsequent educational reforms, the Dutch have not learnt to recognise the racist Sambo character. Various academic studies have also noted a second factor: the cherished Dutch self-image of being an open and fair society. </p>
<p>A large part of the Dutch public, as well as the political establishment, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fk2YkZ2gGDI">including prime minister Mark Rutte</a>, have responded to criticism with outright denial. They refuse to let their fond memories be tinged with the hateful epithet of racism. Anger at the suggestion that their childhood friend might be a racist fantasy has been running so high that <a href="http://nos.nl/artikel/2142263-honderden-agenten-om-rust-te-bewaren-bij-intocht-sint.html">riot police had to be on stand-by</a> for this year’s opening of the festive season.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/146797/original/image-20161121-4531-ahdy4t.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/146797/original/image-20161121-4531-ahdy4t.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/146797/original/image-20161121-4531-ahdy4t.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/146797/original/image-20161121-4531-ahdy4t.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/146797/original/image-20161121-4531-ahdy4t.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/146797/original/image-20161121-4531-ahdy4t.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/146797/original/image-20161121-4531-ahdy4t.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">As King.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Anna Geurts</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Still, because much of the critique has focused on blackface in the narrow sense, there is now a tendency to erase representations of people of African descent altogether. In children’s books, for instance, Pete is increasingly pale, and a large Dutch internet company has even completely eliminated Pete from its adverts, <a href="http://nos.nl/artikel/2135176-jumbo-doet-afbeelding-sinterklaas-in-de-ban.html">now only showing the old white saint</a>. </p>
<p>These steps run the risk of replacing a racism of ridicule with a racism of marginalisation. Surely it is not Pete’s colour which is racist, but the servile and subhuman features of Nicholas’s “cheerful little help” that existing depictions have associated with that colour for so long. Possibly, existing celebrations elsewhere might offer inspiration. This winter in racist Europe, I encountered a popular representation of a dark-skinned man, not as a slave or servant, but as a king.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/69186/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Anna P H Geurts does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>After decades of activism, the scales are finally tipping against the St Nicholas Day tradition of Black Pete.Anna P H Geurts, Teacher and researcher in history and Dutch Studies, University of SheffieldLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/640412016-08-25T09:52:23Z2016-08-25T09:52:23ZDavid Duke, Donald Trump and the dog whistle<p>David Duke, the blow-dried wizard of Louisiana politics, is back. This time he is running to represent Louisiana in the U.S. Senate.</p>
<p>When asked by journalist <a href="http://www.upress.state.ms.us/books/628">Tyler Bridges</a> if he appealed to the same voters as Donald Trump, <a href="http://www.politico.com/magazine/story/2016/03/how-david-dukes-very-live-ghost-haunts-donald-trump-213720">Duke replied</a>: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>“He’s getting the same kinds of votes that I have gotten in Louisiana. He’s getting the same kinds of votes that [Pat] Buchanan got. He’s getting the same votes as George Wallace.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>As scholars of southern politics, political campaigns and public opinion, we thought Duke’s time had come and gone. His reemergence during the deeply divisive Donald Trump presidential campaign gives testament to William Faulkner’s observation in “Requiem for a Nun” that “the past isn’t dead, it isn’t even past.”</p>
<p>The seeds for Duke’s reemergence as a candidate – ironically enough, we contend – were sown by the election of the nation’s first African-American president. Rather than bridging racial divides, those divides have <a href="http://www.press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/O/bo10443910.html">deepened</a> over the course of Barack Obama’s administration. Issues not traditionally associated with race, such as health care, have <a href="http://mst.michaeltesler.com/uploads/ajps11full.pdf">become racialized</a>. Old-fashioned and outspoken racism has replaced the softer, coded and unspoken <a href="http://mst.michaeltesler.com/uploads/jop_rr_full.pdf">symbolic racism</a> that has defined the past several decades.</p>
<p>What Duke represented and still represents – the lingering stain of racial resentment – remains an unfortunate but resilient strand of American political thought. In the America of 2016, racists can put down their dog whistles and just yell for their dogs.</p>
<p>Or, they can run for the U.S. Senate.</p>
<h2>From racist to representative</h2>
<p>Duke spent his college days at Louisiana State University from 1968 to 1974, preaching white supremacy while recruiting for the Ku Klux Klan. He was <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/morning-mix/wp/2016/03/01/trump-said-he-needed-to-research-people-like-david-duke-we-did-it-for-him/">dismissed</a> by <a href="http://articles.sun-sentinel.com/1991-02-10/features/9101070810_1_david-duke-love-seat-oysters/2">journalists</a> as one of those asteroids following its own orbit in the lunatic fringe. Throughout the 1970s and ‘80’s he was active in white supremacist circles, creating his own civil rights group, the National Association for the Advancement of White People, and running as a perennial Democratic <a href="http://www.uncpress.unc.edu/browse/book_detail?title_id=1987">candidate</a> for offices ranging from the state legislature to the presidency. Then in 1989, running as a Republican, he won a special election to the Louisiana House of Representatives, where he served from 1989 to 1992.</p>
<p>Success fueled Duke’s ambition and provided the springboard for two serious bids for statewide office. Foreshadowing the Trump campaign, the GOP establishment disavowed Duke. Nonetheless, he won 43 percent of the vote in his 1990 Senate race against incumbent U.S. Senator Bennett Johnston. Then, he won 39 percent in an encore performance in the gubernatorial election against the ethically challenged Edwin Edwards in 1991. </p>
<p>In both contests, Duke won the bulk of the white vote while running against experienced and well-known officeholders. Edwards won thanks to high turnout, especially among African-Americans motivated by the <a href="https://news.google.com/newspapers?nid=1914&dat=19911115&id=CoEpAAAAIBAJ&sjid=iWUFAAAAIBAJ&pg=4285,2996286">call</a> to “vote for the crook, it’s important.” Perhaps ironically, both the crook Edwin Edwards and the Klansman David Duke would later spend time in a U.S. penitentiary: Edwards for <a href="http://www.nola.com/politics/index.ssf/2011/01/former_gov_edwin_edwards_out_o.html">bribery and extortion</a> and <a href="http://articles.latimes.com/2003/mar/13/nation/na-duke13">Duke for</a> “bilking his supporters and cheating on his taxes.” </p>
<p>In 1996, his novelty having worn off, Duke <a href="http://www.sos.la.gov/ElectionsAndVoting/GetElectionInformation/FindResultsAndStatistics/Pages/default.aspx">won</a> only 11 percent of the vote in his second run for the Senate. In 1999, he took 19 percent in a special U.S. House of Representatives contest.</p>
<h2>Duke and Trump: Overlapping voters?</h2>
<p>Duke’s relative success spawned a <a href="http://journals.cambridge.org/action/displayAbstract?fromPage=online&aid=6284272&fileId=S002238160007585X">small</a> <a href="http://journals.cambridge.org/action/displayAbstract?fromPage=online&aid=6150372&fileId=S0022381600045199">cottage</a> <a href="http://www.upress.state.ms.us/books/628">industry</a> of academic <a href="http://www.vanderbilt.edu/university-press/book/9780826512666">research</a> as scholars grappled with what the electoral viability of a Klansman meant to democratic governance. </p>
<p>The research uncovered that long before Trump entered the nation’s consciousness as a reality show host, Duke honed a message that resonated with white working-class voters struggling economically, angry at an economic and political system that had grown callous to their needs, resentful of establishment career politicians, and ready to scapegoat emerging minorities. When asked in early August if Trump voters were also his voters, <a href="http://www.npr.org/sections/thetwo-way/2016/08/05/488802494/former-kkk-leader-david-duke-says-of-course-trump-voters-are-his-voters">Duke observed</a>: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>“Well, of course they are! Because I represent the ideas of preserving this country and the heritage of this country, and I think Trump represents that as well.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Duke’s claim has merit. Looking at votes cast for Trump in the 2016 GOP primary by county, what Louisiana calls “parishes,” shows that Louisianans voted similarly to how they voted for Duke in the gubernatorial primary in 1991. In 40 of Louisiana’s 64 parishes, Trump’s actual support in the 2016 presidential primary is within five percentage points of an estimate from a statistical model based only on Duke’s percentage of the vote in 1991. This is not just partisanship at work, as Louisiana uses a closed presidential primary system, which prevents strategic Democratic voting.</p>
<p>Why is this the case?</p>
<p>Both Duke and Trump received larger shares of the vote in parishes where the population is mostly white, rural and less educated. They both did relatively poorly in more urban parishes like New Orleans, East Baton Rouge and Caddo with large African-American populations and more college-educated residents. </p>
<p>Using statistical models based on these data, we found that relative to David Duke’s vote, Trump’s vote is more closely associated with education, meaning he pulls more strongly from less educated voters. Duke’s vote is more closely associated with race. But, if there are differences in their bases of support, the similarities are even more striking, especially given that a quarter of a century has passed since Duke’s 1991 campaign.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/135357/original/image-20160824-30246-ywv6ij.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/135357/original/image-20160824-30246-ywv6ij.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/135357/original/image-20160824-30246-ywv6ij.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=338&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/135357/original/image-20160824-30246-ywv6ij.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=338&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/135357/original/image-20160824-30246-ywv6ij.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=338&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/135357/original/image-20160824-30246-ywv6ij.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/135357/original/image-20160824-30246-ywv6ij.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/135357/original/image-20160824-30246-ywv6ij.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Donald Trump and David Duke support explained by education and race.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">fad</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Given the similarities in their support, it is not surprising that Duke <a href="http://www.politico.com/story/2016/02/david-duke-trump-219777">endorsed</a> Trump. Trump, as has been his pattern, reacted in multiple ways – feigning ignorance of Duke and his past before shying away. Regardless, they share the same base of racially resentful voters. </p>
<p>As political scientist Phil Klinkner <a href="http://www.vox.com/2016/6/2/11833548/donald-trump-support-race-religion-economy">recently concluded</a>, racial resentment, even more than economic anxiety, was driving voters to Donald Trump. David Duke was smart enough to read the tea leaves. If Trump was winning nationally, Duke’s message might once again find resonance locally in Louisiana. </p>
<p>While this explains Duke’s decision to run, we have our doubts about his ability to run competitively or win statewide in 2016. Duke’s days as the messenger of racial resentment are hopefully long gone. Twenty-five years have passed since we thought of him and his message as an echo. The Trump campaign serves as a reminder that Duke’s message still finds resonance with voters, and voice from ambitious, unscrupulous politicians. Donald Trump is only the latest and most visible example tapping into this undercurrent of American political thought.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/64041/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>The former KKK grand wizard from Louisiana is hopeful Trump supporters will turn out for his bid for U.S. Senate. Political scientists who have studied his career consider his chances.Kirby Goidel, Professor of Communication, Texas A&M UniversityCharles S. Bullock III, Professor of Political Science, University of GeorgiaKeith Gaddie, Professor of Political Science, University of OklahomaLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/455992015-08-04T19:36:26Z2015-08-04T19:36:26ZWhat psychology says about how you should respond to racist behaviour<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/90733/original/image-20150804-12011-1feklqo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Goodes did the right thing when he confronted a 13-year-old girl who called him an ape at a 2013 AFL game in Melbourne.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://62e528761d0685343e1c-f3d1b99a743ffa4142d9d7f1978d9686.ssl.cf2.rackcdn.com/files/24427/article/original/zwg7tqpx-1369536130.jpg">Twitter/Channel 7</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>The recent controversy around certain football fans incessantly booing Adam Goodes has sparked collective soul-searching as we struggle to distinguish the line between racism and benign on-field antics. Regardless of what we might call it, there are things that you can do when you witness behaviour such as this. </p>
<p>Goodes being booed while playing football is a very public case of “<a href="https://theconversation.com/explainer-what-is-casual-racism-30464">everyday racism</a>”. Everyday racism is more normalised and less recognised than other more blatant forms of racism, such as <a href="http://theconversation.com/the-ape-insult-a-short-history-of-a-racist-idea-14808">calling Goodes an “ape”</a> as a 13-year-old girl did during a 2013 <a href="http://theconversation.com/the-afls-indigenous-round-and-the-innocent-face-of-racism-14659">game in Melbourne</a>. </p>
<p>Any one of us can do something about such instances, but before we go on, here are some provisos. We’re not saying that everybody who booed Goodes was racist. Nor do we consider whether this incident signals a deep-seated national racism as <a href="http://www.abc.net.au/news/2015-08-01/tapp-drum-tv-indigenous-ep/6665312">others have argued</a>. </p>
<p>What we’re concerned about here is the hurt inflicted through everyday racism and what we, as a community, can do about it. </p>
<h2>Importance of bystanders</h2>
<p>Part of the difficulty in calling out racism – and the strength in doing so – is that many cases of everyday racism appear benign; racist jokes, for instance, are frequently seen as just “<a href="http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/j.1742-9544.2010.00015.x/abstract;jsessionid=7611BB58455A274FA8FAA84E41977856.f02t02?userIsAuthenticated=false&deniedAccessCustomisedMessage=">having a laugh</a>”. </p>
<p>And when we’re uncertain or unclear about something, we often turn to the reactions of other people to help us make sense of the situation. The reactions of these bystanders help us understand what’s going on and take appropriate action. This is known as <a href="http://psycnet.apa.org/index.cfm?fa=search.displayRecord&uid=1992-97487-000">social influence</a>. </p>
<p>In the Adam Goodes case, we’re all bystanders: the immediate crowd, the people watching from their homes, the broader community, which has been participating in the discussion about what racism is and isn’t, as well as those who have publicly supported the footballer. And it’s vital that we do something about it because bystander action fulfils multiple <a href="http://www.firstmonday.dk/ojs/index.php/bsi/article/view/120">important social functions</a>. </p>
<p>It shows people who express marginalising beliefs that their views are not supported and <a href="http://psycnet.apa.org/journals/psp/90/5/784/">may make them think twice</a> about expressing such beliefs again. It also demonstrates support for victims of racism, potentially <a href="https://scholar.google.com.au/scholar?hl=en&q=The+hopeful+and+exclusionary+politics+of+Islam+in+Australia%3A+looking+for+alternative+geographies+of+%27Western+Islam%27&btnG=&as_sdt=1%2C5&as_sdtp=.">alleviating some of the suffering</a> caused by such incidents.</p>
<p>Finally, bystander action performs an important societal function – a cohesive society is built on collaboration between different cultural groups. If one group is antagonistic or racist towards another, disharmony rather than cohesiveness follows. And that isn’t good for anybody. </p>
<h2>Taking action</h2>
<p>Bystander action can be both interpersonal (one person confronting another) or organised at a mass, collective level. An Eagles supporter confronting another Eagles supporter for booing Goodes is an example of bystander action at the interpersonal level. </p>
<p>And the grassroots solidarity campaign <a href="http://www.smh.com.au/sport/fans-turn-out-to-the-scg-in-solidarity-with-adam-goodes-20150801-gipgpu.html">#istandwithAdam</a>, the joint statement by the <a href="http://www.aflplayers.com.au/article/stand-with-us-afl-captains-back-adam-goodes/">AFL captains supporting Goodes</a>, as well as the flash mob organised yesterday by the University of Melbourne, are all examples of bystander action organised at the collective level. </p>
<p>The dynamics of emotion and identity are central to understanding these types of acts. Emotional reactions are highly visible and can tell us much about how the people around us are interpreting the situation. </p>
<p>A chortle of laughter or the red face of anger communicates volumes about the position of a bystander witnessing racism. Someone who is uncertain about whether this “is” or “isn’t” racism may think: if everyone is laughing, then how can this possibly be racism, since everyone knows that racism isn’t funny. </p>
<p>We also tend to feel an affiliation towards and identify with <a href="http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/j.1475-6811.2004.00071.x/abstract">people we laugh with</a> – and the people we “boo” with. But displays of solidarity tend to be initiated by a spark of anger. </p>
<p><a href="https://www.researchgate.net/profile/Brian_Parkinson3/publication/14244251_Emotions_are_social/links/02bfe50d04e536b242000000.pdf">Anger communicates disapproval</a> of an event, but also suggests that others should also disapprove. Bystanders can use this shared emotional response to respond collectively – and either confront the perpetrators or provide support for the victim. </p>
<p>Depending on the emotional reactions of other bystanders (laughter or anger), an ambiguous set of actions can be dismissed as “<a href="http://psp.sagepub.com/content/34/2/159.short">just a joke</a>”, “all part of the game”; or as a pervasive and particularly marginalising form of racism. We’re more likely to act when we feel certain our views are legitimate and supported. And our sense of <a href="http://psp.sagepub.com/content/31/4/443.short">identifying with the victim</a> and other bystanders allows us to unconsciously coordinate an appropriate response.</p>
<h2>What to do</h2>
<p>Racism isn’t confined to certain sporting codes and people can call it out when they witness it in daily life. Goodes himself set a good example when he confronted a teenage girl for calling him an ape. </p>
<p>But it’s important to first be mindful of your personal safety. Only confront racism if you feel you are safe in doing so. There have been a number of well-publicised incidents where a very <a href="http://www.theage.com.au/victoria/train-hero-who-defended-muslim-women-against-abuse-forgives-others-for-not-stepping-in-20150526-ghafqg.html">aggressive person is abusing another person</a>. </p>
<p>Such aggression may make it difficult to intervene, but you can show your support in other ways. You could offer support for the victim, implicitly and explicitly challenging the perpetrator’s views. Or you could record the encounter on your phone, or report it to the authorities – or both. After all, racial vilification is an offence in Australia.</p>
<p>Remember that any challenge to someone who is being racist is likely to be more productive if it’s done <a href="http://link.springer.com/article/10.1023/A:1006623213355#page-1">without overt anger</a>. Anger can be misinterpreted as aggression and may provoke hostility, inadvertently producing an unsafe situation. </p>
<p>Since people who endorse racist beliefs are paradoxically more likely to believe that others <a href="http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1002/casp.964/abstract">support their marginalising worldviews</a>, one of the most effective things you can do when confronting someone about racism is to simply disagree. In a similar vein, a racist joke will not seem funny if nobody is laughing.</p>
<p>This case has guided the public spotlight on something <a href="http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2015/jul/30/i-can-tell-you-how-adam-goodes-feels-every-indigenous-person-has-felt-it">experienced by many Indigenous people</a> all <a href="http://psp.sagepub.com/content/29/4/474.short">too often</a>. As bystanders – on-field and off – we all have a powerful role to play in mitigating the social and personal harm caused by everyday racism.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/45599/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Emma Thomas receives funding from the Australian Research Council.</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Anne Pedersen receives funding from ARC Linkage and is affiliated with AllTogetherNow. </span></em></p>Not everyone who boos footballer Adam Goodes may be racist. But there are things you can do if you witness both overt and subtle, everyday racism.Emma Thomas, Senior Lecturer in Social Psychology, Murdoch UniversityAnne Pedersen, Associate Professor in Psychology, Murdoch UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.