tag:theconversation.com,2011:/fr/topics/blacks-18233/articlesBlacks – The Conversation2022-06-30T12:22:00Ztag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1856462022-06-30T12:22:00Z2022-06-30T12:22:00ZRacial wealth gaps are yet another thing the US and UK have in common<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/470585/original/file-20220623-51459-drcbgs.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Britain's Prince William speaks during the unveiling of the National Windrush Monument on June 22, 2022.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/britains-prince-william-duke-of-cambridge-speaks-during-the-news-photo/1241451369?adppopup=true">John SibleyPOOL/AFP via Getty Images</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>It’s an old saying that Britain and America are two countries separated by a common language. </p>
<p>But they are united by racial wealth gaps that formed at a similar time for related reasons. Black Britons of the “Windrush generation,” arriving in Britain from the Caribbean between 1948 and 1973, and Black Americas from the Great Migration of the 1940s-1970s encountered similar disadvantages that were reproduced in the last 50 years.</p>
<p>Today, examining household assets, Black Britons of Caribbean backgrounds have 20 pence on the £1 compared to white Britons. Black Britons of African background – more recently arrived in Britain – have just <a href="https://www.runnymedetrust.org/publications/the-colour-of-money">10 pence</a> on the £1 compared to white Britons. </p>
<p>In the U.S., Black Americans have assets about <a href="https://www.federalreserve.gov/econres/notes/feds-notes/wealth-inequality-and-the-racial-wealth-gap-20211022.htm">15 to 20 cents</a> on the $1 compared to whites. </p>
<p>This is in large part the result of policymakers in both countries putting up roadblocks to Black advancement at the time they instituted policies to grow the middle class.</p>
<p>In my view <a href="https://calscherm.com/">as a historian</a> of slavery, capitalism and African American inequality, it’s not just the long shadow of enslavement, which Britain abolished in its western colonies in 1833 and the U.S. ended in 1865 with passage of the 13th Amendment. </p>
<p>When Black members of the British Commonwealth moved to Britain starting in 1948 and African Americans moved from the South to the North and West, they encountered new obstacles. </p>
<p>The long struggle for equal job opportunities has had a lasting effect on the ability to accrue wealth and pass it on to subsequent generations.</p>
<h2>The British illusion of opportunity</h2>
<p>The moment Black opportunity in Britain opened up was June 22, 1948, when the British ship <a href="https://www.rmg.co.uk/whats-on/national-maritime-museum/windrush-day">Empire Windrush</a> docked on the River Thames, disembarking 802 passengers of Caribbean background in England.</p>
<p>They led the first sustained Black migration, the <a href="https://www.bbc.com/news/uk-43782241">Windrush generation</a>, mostly Black and Asian, arriving in Britain between 1948 and 1973.</p>
<p>U.K. employers wanted their labor amid a post-World War II shortage. </p>
<p>About a third of Windrush passengers were veterans of the British forces who served in World War II and recruited by employers for skilled jobs. </p>
<p>Caribbean women, for instance, became vital to the new <a href="https://www.nhs.uk/">U.K. National Health Service</a> as nurses, cooks and cleaners, many <a href="https://www.versobooks.com/books/2694-the-heart-of-the-race">caring</a> for patients by night and families by day. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="A bronze statue depicts a black man looking toward the sky while holding hands with his wife and child." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/470579/original/file-20220623-51568-4m5qy2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/470579/original/file-20220623-51568-4m5qy2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/470579/original/file-20220623-51568-4m5qy2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/470579/original/file-20220623-51568-4m5qy2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/470579/original/file-20220623-51568-4m5qy2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/470579/original/file-20220623-51568-4m5qy2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/470579/original/file-20220623-51568-4m5qy2.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">The National Windrush Monument, created by Jamaican artist Basil Watson, is unveiled at Waterloo Station in London on June 22, 2022.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/the-national-windrush-monument-created-by-jamaican-artist-news-photo/1241451640?adppopup=true">John Sibley/POOL/AFP via Getty Images)</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>But, as British journalist <a href="https://www.afuahirsch.com/">Afua Hirsch</a> argues, they faced persistent discrimination in housing and jobs. Employers wanted them as laborers, not neighbors, and they faced hostility from those determined to “<a href="https://tribunemag.co.uk/2019/11/keeping-britain-white">Keep England White</a>.”</p>
<p>When a Bristol bus company refused to employ Black conductors and drivers, Black workers counter-organized, staging a successful Bristol <a href="https://www.blackhistorymonth.org.uk/article/section/civil-rights-movement/the-bristol-bus-boycott-of-1963">bus boycott</a> against employment discrimination. </p>
<p>Such action led to the <a href="https://uomhistory.com/2021/10/15/the-campaign-against-racial-discrimination-britains-answer-to-the-naacp%EF%BF%BC/">1964 Campaign Against Racial Discrimination</a>, which helped catalyze the 1965 <a href="https://www.parliament.uk/about/living-heritage/transformingsociety/private-lives/relationships/collections1/race-relations-act-1965/race-relations-act-1965/">U.K. Race Relations Act</a> banning public discrimination and made promoting hatred based on “colour, race, or ethnic or national origins” a crime. </p>
<p>Meanwhile, civil rights leaders such as <a href="https://www.blackhistorymonth.org.uk/article/section/civil-rights-movement/how-olive-morris-fought-for-black-womens-rights-in-britain/">Olive Morris</a> fought for economic inclusion through organizations like the <a href="https://tribunemag.co.uk/2020/10/the-making-of-britains-black-working-class">Black Workers Movement</a>. These efforts helped include Black workers in unionized industry and led to wage gains.</p>
<h2>The American allure of opportunity</h2>
<p>While the Windrush generation took shape, African Americans too were moving north and west in search of opportunity. Journalist Isabel Wilkerson <a href="https://www.penguin.co.uk/books/321/321351/the-warmth-of-other-suns/9780141995151.html">contends</a> that “the Great Migration had more in common with the vast movements of refugees from famine, war, and genocide in other parts of the world.”</p>
<p>In the three decades following the Great Depression, the American wage structure became more equal than at any time before or since, a process economic historians term “<a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/2118322">The Great Compression</a>.” Between 1940 and 1960, the distance between earners in the top 10% and bottom 90% narrowed by a third. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="A black boy dressed in a shirt and tie stands near a black woman in front of car with their belongings tied to the top.car" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/470595/original/file-20220623-52151-izb45a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/470595/original/file-20220623-52151-izb45a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=454&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/470595/original/file-20220623-52151-izb45a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=454&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/470595/original/file-20220623-52151-izb45a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=454&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/470595/original/file-20220623-52151-izb45a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=571&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/470595/original/file-20220623-52151-izb45a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=571&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/470595/original/file-20220623-52151-izb45a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=571&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">An African American family leaving Florida during the Great Depression.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/an-african-american-family-leaving-florida-during-the-great-news-photo/2667542?adppopup=true">MPI/Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>But policies giving white Americans a boost up the ladder tended to hamstring African Americans.</p>
<p>Social Security <a href="https://www.ssa.gov/policy/docs/ssb/v70n4/v70n4p49.html">initially excluded most Black workers</a>. Union wages rose, but African Americans were <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4300995/">underrepresented</a> in union jobs.</p>
<p>Home loan guarantees went to white families and specifically excluded Black-occupied properties in many U.S. cities. </p>
<p><a href="https://wwnorton.com/books/the-color-of-law">Redlining</a> was the practice of denying loan guarantees to properties occupied by Black and other minority residents. It became a self-fulfilling prophesy of disinvestment and declining values. </p>
<p>Meanwhile, post-WWII programs to improve social mobility, like the <a href="https://www.archives.gov/historical-docs/todays-doc/index.html?dod-date=622">1944 Servicemen’s Readjustment Act</a>, or GI Bill, <a href="https://theconversation.com/gi-bill-opened-doors-to-college-for-many-vets-but-politicians-created-a-separate-one-for-blacks-126394">largely benefited white veterans</a> by expanding the middle class with job, college and home loan assistance. </p>
<p><a href="https://mattdelmont.com/">Historian Matthew F. Delmont</a> <a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/624655/half-american-by-matthew-f-delmont">argues</a> that “by funneling resources to white veterans and denying loans to Black veterans, the GI Bill intensified the racial wealth gap and shared the terrain of opportunity in America for decades after the war.”</p>
<p>In the 1960s, legal barriers gave way to what African American Studies scholar <a href="https://aas.princeton.edu/people/keeanga-yamahtta-taylor">Keeanga-Yamahtta Taylor</a> calls “<a href="https://uncpress.org/book/9781469663883/race-for-profit/">predatory inclusion</a>” in home ownership, <a href="https://www.hup.harvard.edu/catalog.php?isbn=9780674237476">finance</a> and <a href="https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/10.1177/2329496516686620">education</a>. </p>
<p>By the time Black Americans began to narrow <a href="https://www.nber.org/system/files/working_papers/w30101/w30101.pdf">a persistent wealth gap</a>, the economy was paying diminishing returns to workers. </p>
<p>The wealth-to-earnings ratio <a href="https://eml.berkeley.edu/%7Esaez/saez-zucmanNBER14wealth.pdf">rose</a> in the U.S. <a href="https://voxeu.org/article/capital-back">and</a> U.K. after 1973, and Black Americans who had recently climbed one or two rungs on the ladder started to move backward relative to whites. </p>
<h2>Britain’s failed promise</h2>
<p>By the 1970s, multicultural Britain had taken shape. As <a href="https://www.ucl.ac.uk/institute-of-advanced-studies/professor-paul-gilroy">British sociologist Paul Gilroy</a> <a href="https://press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/T/bo3620902.html">argues</a>, Black Britain, including people of African and South Asian descent, had become a complex of class and cultures as diverse as England’s imperial geography that once included colonies in Asia, Africa and the Americas.</p>
<p>But diversity didn’t mean inclusion. Just as Black working-class Britons were making gains in unionized industry, that rung of the ladder cracked.</p>
<p>Starting in the late 1970s, factories closed or moved offshore, and ways into the middle class narrowed as the U.K. and U.S. pursued a strategy of more privatization and less government spending on social services. </p>
<p>Union strength declined across sectors, and worker wages stagnated. Many Black Britons were trapped in segregated neighborhoods and didn’t reap gains from <a href="https://www.allagents.co.uk/house-prices-adjusted/">rising home values</a>. Today, 2 in 3 white British families own homes <a href="https://www.ethnicity-facts-figures.service.gov.uk/housing/owning-and-renting/home-ownership/latest#by-ethnicity">compared</a> to 2 in 5 Black British families of Caribbean background and 1 in 5 Black British families of African background. </p>
<p>By the 2000s, those who lacked capital or technological skills in Britain had a hard time <a href="https://iariw.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/07/Sonia_Paper.pdf">climbing</a> up the economic ladder. Income inequality <a href="https://www.ons.gov.uk/peoplepopulationandcommunity/personalandhouseholdfinances/incomeandwealth/bulletins/householdincomeinequalityfinancial/financialyearending2020provisional">soared</a> between 1979 and the early 2000s, reaching levels not seen since <a href="https://www.chartbookofeconomicinequality.com/inequality-by-country/united-kingdom/">before</a> WWII.</p>
<h2>America’s reinvention of inequality</h2>
<p>Meanwhile in the United States, legal barriers fell while the economy changed in ways that disadvantaged Black workers in new ways. In 1979 the average Black worker <a href="https://www.stlouisfed.org/publications/regional-economist/july-2013/changes-in-the-racial-earnings-gap-since-1960">earned</a> 82 cents on the dollar compared to white counterparts. By 2000, the earnings gap widened to 77 cents on the dollar. </p>
<p>The Great Recession of 2008 destroyed <a href="https://www.epi.org/blog/the-great-recession-education-race-and-homeownership/">half</a> of Black wealth, and in 2015 an estimated 1.5 million Black American men were <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2015/04/20/upshot/missing-black-men.html">missing</a> from the economy, having died early, been incarcerated or shut out of the employment market – 8.2% of working-age African American men compared with 1.6% of white men in the same age range. </p>
<p>Despite wealth gains since 2016, Black wealth was more vulnerable and <a href="https://www.federalreserve.gov/econres/notes/feds-notes/disparities-in-wealth-by-race-and-ethnicity-in-the-2019-survey-of-consumer-finances-20200928">harder</a> to accumulate. </p>
<p>The earnings gap remains wide today.</p>
<p>Black women workers in the U.S. <a href="https://leanin.org/data-about-the-gender-pay-gap-for-black-women">earn 79 cents</a> on the dollar compared to white women, and Black men <a href="https://www.shrm.org/resourcesandtools/hr-topics/compensation/pages/racial-wage-gaps-persistence-poses-challenge.aspx">earn</a> 87% of white men’s wages. </p>
<h2>Discrimination across the Atlantic</h2>
<p>In the U.K., just before the pandemic, Black Britons of African and Caribbean background <a href="https://www.ons.gov.uk/employmentandlabourmarket/peopleinwork/earningsandworkinghours/articles/ethnicitypaygapsingreatbritain/2019">earned</a> 85% and 87% of the wages of white Britons, respectively. </p>
<p>According to a study by two leading U.K. inequality think tanks, British women of color <a href="https://www.runnymedetrust.org/publications/broken-ladders">endure</a> “intersecting structural barriers and discrimination faced at every point of the career pipeline, from school to university to employment.” </p>
<p>U.K. wealth is largely white, <a href="https://assets-global.website-files.com/61488f992b58e687f1108c7c/61bcc1c736554228b543c603_The%20Colour%20of%20Money%20Report.pdf">resulting</a> from the “history of economic relations between Britain and the rest of the world, especially Africa, the Caribbean and Asia,” according to the <a href="https://www.runnymedetrust.org/">Runnymede Trust</a>, an inequality think tank. </p>
<p>Over the last 80 years, the underbelly of Britain and America is that both countries reinvented racial economic disadvantages. </p>
<p>Instead of making their economies fundamentally fair, racial exclusions gave way to inclusion that came with surcharges on opportunity while failing to rectify past wrongs.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/185646/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Calvin Schermerhorn 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>The legacy of racism in both the United States and the United Kingdom has impacted the ability of Blacks and other ethnic groups to accumulate wealth.Calvin Schermerhorn, Professor of History, Arizona State UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1523232020-12-23T13:55:53Z2020-12-23T13:55:53ZWhat’s not being said about why African Americans need to take the COVID-19 vaccine<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/376068/original/file-20201220-15-6ckasf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=49%2C0%2C5472%2C3587&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Latrice Davis, a nurse at Roseland Community Hospital in Chicago, receives the COVID-19 vaccine on Dec. 18, 2020. </span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/latrice-davis-a-nurse-at-roseland-community-hospital-news-photo/1292016675?adppopup=true">Scott Olson via Getty Images</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Dr. Anthony Fauci and other national health leaders have said that African Americans need to take the COVID-19 vaccine <a href="https://www.cbsnews.com/news/fauci-black-community-covid-19-vaccine/">to protect their health</a>. What Fauci and others have not stated is that if African Americans don’t take the vaccine, the nation as whole will never get to <a href="https://theconversation.com/achieving-covid-19-herd-immunity-through-infection-is-dangerous-deadly-and-might-not-even-work-148769">herd immunity</a>. </p>
<p>The concept of herd immunity, also referred to as <a href="https://www.cdc.gov/vaccines/terms/glossary.html#commimmunity">community immunity</a>, is fairly simple. When a significant proportion of the population, or the herd, becomes immune from the virus, the entire population will have some acceptable degree of protection. Immunity can occur through natural immunity from personal infection and recovery, or through vaccination. Once a population reaches herd immunity, the likelihood of person-to-person spread becomes very low.</p>
<p>The big lie is one of omission. Yes, it is true that African Americans will benefit from the COVID vaccine, but the full truth is that the country needs African Americans and other population subgroups with lower reported COVID-19 vaccine <a href="https://doi.org/10.1016/j.eclinm.2020.100495">acceptability rates</a> to take the vaccine. Without increased vaccine acceptability, we stand little to no chance of communitywide protection. </p>
<p><a href="https://scholar.google.com/citations?user=v-vE-asAAAAJ&hl=en">I am an epidemiologist and health equity scholar</a> who has been conducting research in the African American community for 20 years. Much of my work focuses on strategies to increase <a href="https://doi.org/10.1353/cpr.2019.0064">community engagement in research</a>. I see a significant opportunity to improve COVID vaccine acceptance in the African American community.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="A crowd in New York City." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/376465/original/file-20201222-23-ib07v9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/376465/original/file-20201222-23-ib07v9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=398&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/376465/original/file-20201222-23-ib07v9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=398&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/376465/original/file-20201222-23-ib07v9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=398&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/376465/original/file-20201222-23-ib07v9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=500&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/376465/original/file-20201222-23-ib07v9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=500&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/376465/original/file-20201222-23-ib07v9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=500&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">If up to 60% of African Americans don’t take the vaccine, reaching herd immunity will be difficult.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/people-wear-protective-face-masks-while-shopping-at-the-news-photo/1289474575?adppopup=true">Noam Galai via Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Doing the coronavirus math</h2>
<p>About <a href="https://media.nature.com/original/magazine-assets/d41586-020-02948-4/d41586-020-02948-4.pdf">70% of people</a> in the U.S. need to take the vaccine for the population to reach herd immunity. Whites make up about 60% of the U.S. population. So, if every white person got the vaccine, the U.S. would still fall short of herd immunity. A <a href="https://doi.org/10.1016/j.eclinm.2020.100495">recent study suggested that 68%</a> of white people would be willing to get the COVID-19 vaccine. If these estimates hold up, that would get us to 42%. </p>
<p>African Americans make up more than <a href="https://www.census.gov/quickfacts/fact/table/US/IPE120219">13% of the American population</a>. But if up to 60% of African Americans refuse to take the vaccine, as <a href="https://doi.org/10.1016/j.eclinm.2020.100495">a recent study suggests</a>, it will be difficult to reach that 70% threshold likely needed to reach herd immunity. </p>
<p>Latinos make up just over 18% percent of the population. A study suggests that 32% percent of Latinos could reject a COVID <a href="https://doi.org/10.1016/j.eclinm.2020.100495">vaccine</a>. Add the 40% to 50% rejection rates among other population subgroups and herd immunity becomes mathematically impossible. </p>
<p>Further exacerbating the problem is that mass vaccination alone won’t <a href="https://doi.org/10.1016/S0140-6736(20)32318-7">achieve herd immunity</a>, as the effect of COVID vaccines on preventing virus transmission <a href="https://doi.org/10.1126/science.abd7343">remains unclear</a>. Ongoing preventive measures will likely still be needed to stop community spread. As the resistance to facts and science <a href="https://doi.org/10.1001/jamapediatrics.2017.2219">continues to grow</a>, the need for credible information dissemination and trust-building related to vaccines becomes more important.</p>
<p><a href="https://doi.org/10.1353/cpr.2019.0064">My research</a> offers some possible explanations for lower vaccination rates among Blacks. Historical wrongs, like the <a href="https://doi.org/10.1097/00000441-199901000-00002">Tuskegee Syphilis Experiments</a>, which ended in 1972, have played a major role in contributing to Black mistrust of the health care system. In another case, the “immortal” cells of Henrietta Lacks were shared without her consent and have been used in medical research for more than 70 years. The most recent application includes <a href="https://doi.org/10.1038/d41586-020-02494-z">COVID vaccine research</a>, yet her family has received no financial benefit. </p>
<p>[<em><a href="https://theconversation.com/us/newsletters/the-daily-3?utm_source=TCUS&utm_medium=inline-link&utm_campaign=newsletter-text&utm_content=experts">Expertise in your inbox. Sign up for The Conversation’s newsletter and get expert takes on today’s news, every day.</a></em>]</p>
<p>A <a href="https://dx.doi.org/10.1046%2Fj.1525-1497.1999.07048.x">study led by Dr. Giselle Corbie-Smith</a> at the University of North Carolina identified distrust of the medical community as a prominent barrier to African American participation in clinical research. <a href="https://doi.org/10.1001/archinte.162.21.2458">Another of Corbie-Smith’s peer-reviewed studies</a> found that distrust in medical research is significantly higher among African Americans than whites.</p>
<p>African Americans also disproportionately experience unequal treatment in the modern-day <a href="https://doi.org/10.17226/12875">health care system</a>. These experiences <a href="https://doi.org/10.1089/heq.2020.0015">of bias and discrimination</a> fuel the problem of vaccine hesitancy and mistrust. Lower prioritization for hospital admissions and lifesaving care for COVID-19-related illness among African Americans <a href="https://www.boston.com/news/local-news/2020/04/10/massachusetts-lawmakers-ventilator-bed-guidelines-race-coronavirus">was reported in Massachusetts</a> in April 2020. Massachusetts subsequently changed its guidelines, yet across the U.S. there is a lack of data and transparent reporting on this phenomenon.</p>
<p>The current messaging of vaccine importance may seem tone-deaf to those in a community who wonder why their health is so important now, at the vaccine stage. Black health didn’t appear to be a priority during the pandemic’s first wave, <a href="https://doi.org/10.1101/2020.05.15.20096552">when race disparities in COVID emerged</a>.</p>
<p><div data-react-class="Tweet" data-react-props="{"tweetId":"1335600667319218176"}"></div></p>
<h2>Questioning the scientific process</h2>
<p>Perhaps even Operation Warp Speed has had the unintended consequence of <a href="https://doi.org/10.1080/21645515.2020.1846400">decreasing vaccine acceptance</a> in the African American community. Some ask why wasn’t such speed applied to vaccine development for HIV, which still has no FDA-approved vaccine? As of 2018, AIDS-related illness has killed an estimated <a href="https://www.cdc.gov/hiv/statistics/overview/">35 million people globally</a>. It continues to disproportionately affect people of color and other socially vulnerable populations.</p>
<p>If African Americans were honored and acknowledged in these COVID vaccine conversations and told “we need you” instead of “you need us,” perhaps more Blacks would trust the vaccine. I encourage our nation’s leaders to consider a radical shift in their approach. They must do more than pointing to the few Black scientists involved <a href="https://www.theroot.com/dr-anthony-fauci-appeals-to-black-community-the-vacc-1845853569?utm_source=theroot_newsletter&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=2020-12-11">in COVID vaccine development</a>, or making a spectacle of prominent African Americans receiving the vaccine. </p>
<p>These acts alone will likely be insufficient to garner the trust needed to increase vaccine acceptance. Instead, I believe our leaders should adopt the core values of equity and reconciliation. I’d argue that truth-telling will need to be at the forefront of this new narrative.</p>
<p>There are also multiple leverage points along the supply and distribution chains, as well as in vaccine administration, that could increase diversity, equity and inclusion. I’d recommend giving minority- and women-owned businesses fair, mandated access to contracts to get the vaccine to communities. This includes procurement and purchasing contracts for freezers needed to store the vaccine. </p>
<p>Minority health care workers should be equitably called back to work to support vaccine administration. These issues, not publicly discussed, could be transformative for building trust and increasing vaccine acceptance.</p>
<p>Without a radical shift in the conversation of true COVID equity, African Americans and many others who could benefit from the vaccine will instead get sick. Some will die. The rest will remain marginalized by a system and a society that hasn’t equally valued, protected, or prioritized their lives. I believe it’s time to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/152323/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Debra Furr-Holden receives funding from The National Institute of Minority Health and Health Disparities, the National Cancer Institute, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, The National Institute on Alcoholism and Alcohol Abuse, and The Substance Abuse Mental Health Services Administration. </span></em></p>Black people are skeptical about the new vaccines for many reasons. If public health leaders told the full story, maybe there’d be a higher chance that Black people would want to take the vaccine.Debra Furr-Holden, Associate Dean for Public Health Integration, Michigan State UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1431442020-08-26T12:20:42Z2020-08-26T12:20:42ZForced sterilization policies in the US targeted minorities and those with disabilities – and lasted into the 21st century<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/353240/original/file-20200817-18-b7q561.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=1165%2C26%2C2383%2C2314&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">An operation taking place in 1941 on South Side of Chicago.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.rawpixel.com/image/2301130">Library of Congress</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>In August 1964, the North Carolina Eugenics Board met to decide if a 20-year-old Black woman should be sterilized. Because her name was redacted from the records, we call her Bertha. </p>
<p>She was a single mother with one child who lived at the segregated O'Berry Center for African American adults with intellectual disabilities in Goldsboro. According to the North Carolina Eugenics Board, Bertha had an IQ of 62 and exhibited “aggressive behavior and sexual promiscuity.” She had been orphaned as a child and had a limited education. Likely because of her “low IQ score,” the board determined she was not capable of rehabilitation. </p>
<p>Instead the board recommended the “protection of sterilization” for Bertha, because she was “feebleminded” and deemed unable to “assume responsibility for herself” or her child. Without her input, Bertha’s guardian signed the sterilization form.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/353451/original/file-20200818-14-mzzs17.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A 1950s era pamphlet that reads: The average feebleminded parent cannot be expected to provide good heredity, a normal home, intelligent care - to say nothing of the many other things needed to bring up children successfully." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/353451/original/file-20200818-14-mzzs17.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/353451/original/file-20200818-14-mzzs17.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=513&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/353451/original/file-20200818-14-mzzs17.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=513&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/353451/original/file-20200818-14-mzzs17.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=513&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/353451/original/file-20200818-14-mzzs17.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=644&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/353451/original/file-20200818-14-mzzs17.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=644&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/353451/original/file-20200818-14-mzzs17.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=644&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A pamphlet extolling the benefit of selective sterilization published by the Human Betterment League of North Carolina, 1950.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://digital.ncdcr.gov/digital/collection/p249901coll37/id/14974/">North Carolina State Documents Collection/State Library of North Carolina</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Bertha’s story is one of the 35,000 sterilization stories we are reconstructing at the <a href="https://ssjlab.weebly.com">Sterilization and Social Justice Lab</a>. Our interdisciplinary team explores the history of eugenics and sterilization in the U.S. using data and stories. So far, we have captured historical records from North Carolina, California, Iowa and Michigan. </p>
<h2>Eugenics</h2>
<p>More than <a href="https://www.huffpost.com/entry/sterilization-united-states_n_568f35f2e4b0c8beacf68713">60,000 people were sterilized in 32 states during the 20th century</a> based on the bogus “science” of eugenics, <a href="https://doi.org/10.1051/medsci/2009256-7641">a term coined by Francis Galton in 1883</a>.</p>
<p>Eugenicists applied emerging theories of biology and genetics to human breeding. White elites with strong biases about who was “fit” and “unfit” embraced eugenics, believing American society would be improved by increased breeding of Anglo Saxons and Nordics, whom they assumed had high IQs. Anyone who did not fit this mold of racial perfection, which included most immigrants, Blacks, Indigenous people, poor whites and people with disabilities, <a href="https://www.hup.harvard.edu/catalog.php?isbn=9780674445574">became targets of eugenics programs</a>. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/353242/original/file-20200817-14-rlngdx.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="An old map of the United States showing the status of state eugenics laws in 1913. About half the states either have laws or are in the process of creating them." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/353242/original/file-20200817-14-rlngdx.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/353242/original/file-20200817-14-rlngdx.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=508&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/353242/original/file-20200817-14-rlngdx.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=508&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/353242/original/file-20200817-14-rlngdx.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=508&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/353242/original/file-20200817-14-rlngdx.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=639&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/353242/original/file-20200817-14-rlngdx.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=639&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/353242/original/file-20200817-14-rlngdx.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=639&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">By 1913, many states had or were on their way to having eugenic sterilization laws.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://collections.countway.harvard.edu/onview/files/original/3f02811d6a83b0f896c4eaa6794ecffc.jpg">Boston Medical Library in the Francis A. Countway Library of Medicine</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Indiana passed the world’s first sterilization law in 1907. Thirty-one states followed suit. <a href="https://doi.org/10.1086/ahr.114.3.776-a">State-sanctioned sterilizations</a> reached their peak in the 1930s and 1940s but continued and, in some states, rose during the 1950s and 1960s. </p>
<p>The United States was an international leader in eugenics. Its sterilization laws actually informed Nazi Germany. The Third Reich’s 1933 “<a href="https://www.ushmm.org/learn/timeline-of-events/1933-1938/law-for-the-prevention-of-offspring-with-hereditary-diseases">Law for the Prevention of Offspring with Hereditary Diseases</a>” <a href="https://press.princeton.edu/books/hardcover/9780691172422/hitlers-american-model">was modeled on laws in Indiana and California</a>. Under this law, the <a href="https://www.hup.harvard.edu/catalog.php?isbn=9780674745780">Nazis sterilized approximately 400,000 children and adults</a>, mostly Jews and other “undesirables,” labeled “defective.”</p>
<h2>Anti-Black racism and sterilization</h2>
<p>The team at the Sterilization and Social Justice Lab has uncovered some remarkable trends in eugenic sterilization. At first, sterilization programs targeted white men, expanding by the 1920s to affect the same number of women as men. The laws used broad and ever-changing disability labels like “feeblemindedness” and “mental defective.” Over time, though, women and people of color increasingly became the target, as <a href="https://www.rutgersuniversitypress.org/fit-to-be-tied/9780813578910">eugenics amplified sexism and racism</a>.</p>
<p><iframe id="SIc36" class="tc-infographic-datawrapper" src="https://datawrapper.dwcdn.net/SIc36/4/" height="400px" width="100%" style="border: none" frameborder="0"></iframe></p>
<p>It is no coincidence that sterilization rates for Black women rose as desegregation got underway. Until the 1950s, schools and hospitals in the U.S. were segregated by race, but integration threatened to break down Jim Crow apartheid. <a href="https://global.oup.com/academic/product/mothers-of-massive-resistance-9780190271718?cc=us&lang=en&">The backlash involved the reassertion of white supremacist control and racial hierarchies</a> specifically through the <a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/155575/killing-the-black-body-by-dorothy-roberts/">control of Black reproduction and future Black lives by sterilization</a>.</p>
<p>In North Carolina, which sterilized the third highest number of people in the United States – <a href="https://journalnow.com/news/local/against-their-will-north-carolinas-sterilization-program/image_acfc2fb8-8feb-11e2-a857-0019bb30f31a.html">7,600 people from 1929 to 1973</a> – women vastly outnumbered men and Black women were <a href="https://uncpress.org/book/9780807855850/choice-and-coercion/">disproportionately sterilized</a>. Preliminary analysis shows that from 1950 to 1966, Black women were sterilized at more than three times the rate of white women and more than 12 times the rate of white men. This pattern <a href="https://www.ucpress.edu/book/9780520299948/how-all-politics-became-reproductive-politics">reflected the ideas</a> that Black women were not capable of being good parents and poverty should be managed with reproductive constraint.</p>
<p>Bertha’s sterilization was ordered by a state eugenics board, but in the 1960s and 1970s, new federal programs like Medicaid also started funding nonconsensual sterilizations. <a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/population-control-politics-women-sterilization-and-reproductive-choice/oclc/1003747011">More than 100,000</a> <a href="https://nyupress.org/9780814758274/women-of-color-and-the-reproductive-rights-movement/">Black, Latino and Indigenous women were affected</a>.</p>
<p>Many <a href="http://www.pbs.org/independentlens/films/no-mas-bebes/">felt shame and shrouded these experiences in secrecy</a>, not even telling their closest relatives and friends. Others took to the streets and filed law suits to protest forced sterilization. The powerful documentary “<a href="https://www.pbs.org/independentlens/films/no-mas-bebes/">No Más Bebés</a>” tells the story of hundreds of Mexican American women coerced into tubal ligations at a county hospital in Los Angeles in the 1970s. One of them, who became a plaintiff in a case against the hospital, reflecting back decades later said <a href="https://www.nbcnews.com/news/latino/no-m-s-beb-s-looks-back-l-mexican-moms-n505256">her experience “makes me want to cry.”</a></p>
<h2>Forced sterilizations continue</h2>
<p>In the years between 1997 and 2010, unwanted sterilizations were performed on <a href="https://www.foxnews.com/entertainment/new-documentary-illuminates-the-forced-sterilization-of-women-in-california-prison">approximately 1,400 women in California prisons</a>. These operations were based on the same rationale of bad parenting and undesirable genes evident in North Carolina in 1964. The doctor performing the sterilizations told a reporter the <a href="https://www.npr.org/sections/thetwo-way/2013/07/09/200444613/californias-prison-sterilizations-reportedly-echoes-eugenics-era">operations were cost-saving measures</a>.</p>
<p>[<em>Deep knowledge, daily.</em> <a href="https://theconversation.com/us/newsletters/the-daily-3?utm_source=TCUS&utm_medium=inline-link&utm_campaign=newsletter-text&utm_content=deepknowledge">Sign up for The Conversation’s newsletter</a>.]</p>
<p>Unfortunately, forced sterilization continues on. <a href="https://www.aljazeera.com/indepth/features/2016/07/roma-women-share-stories-forced-sterilisation-160701100731050.html">Romani women have been sterilized unwillingly in the Czech Republic</a> as recently as 2007. In northern China, Uighurs, a religious and racial minority group, have been <a href="https://www.businessinsider.com/china-forcibly-sterilizing-uighur-women-xinjiang-abortions-contraception-ap-2020-6">subjected to mass sterilization</a> and other measures of extreme population control.</p>
<p>All forced sterilization campaigns, regardless of their time or place, have one thing in common. They involve dehumanizing a particular subset of the population deemed less worthy of reproduction and family formation. They merge perceptions of disability with racism, xenophobia and sexism – resulting in the disproportionate sterilization of minority groups.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/143144/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Alexandra Minna Stern receives funding from the National Institutes of Health-National Humane Genome Research Institute for portions of this research project. </span></em></p>The US has a long history of forced sterilization campaigns that were driven by the bogus ‘science’ of eugenics, racism and sexism.Alexandra Minna Stern, Professor of American Culture, History, and Women's Studies, University of MichiganLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1433392020-07-30T12:18:53Z2020-07-30T12:18:53ZEnslaved people’s health was ignored from the country’s beginning, laying the groundwork for today’s health disparities<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/350239/original/file-20200729-21-1lyimt3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=3%2C3%2C2509%2C1831&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Freed slaves on the plantation of Confederate General Thomas F. Drayton in Hilton Head, South Carolina. This photograph was taken circa 1865.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/group-of-freed-slaves-gather-on-the-plantation-of-news-photo/615304338?adppopup=true">Getty Images / CORBIS</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Some critics of Black Lives Matter say <a href="https://www.vanityfair.com/news/2016/07/black-lives-matter-all-lives-matter">the movement itself is racist</a>. Their frequent counterargument: All lives matter. Lost in that view, however, is a historical perspective. Look back to the late 18th century, to the very beginnings of the U.S., and you will see Black lives in this country did not seem to matter at all. </p>
<p>Foremost among the <a href="https://www.scielo.br/scielo.php?script=sci_arttext&pid=S0074-02762006001000017">unrelenting cruelties</a> heaped upon enslaved people was the lack of health care for them. Infants and children fared especially poorly. After childbirth, mothers were forced to return to the fields as soon as possible, often having to leave their infants without care or food. The infant mortality rate was <a href="https://ajph.aphapublications.org/doi/10.2105/AJPH.2019.305243">estimated at one time to be as high as 50%</a>. Adult people who were enslaved who showed signs of exhaustion or <a href="https://www.blackpast.org/african-american-history/mental-illness-in-black-community-1700-2019-a-short-history/">depression</a> were often beaten.</p>
<p>As a <a href="https://socialwork.iu.edu/faculty-staff/profile.php?id=Kyere_Eric_ekyere">professor of social work</a>, I study ways to stop racism, promote social justice, and help the Black community empower itself. A relationship exists between the health of enslaved Blacks and the making of America. </p>
<h2>‘Racist medical theory’</h2>
<p>White masters, often brutal and violent, dehumanized the enslaved people who worked for them and became wealthy from their work. <a href="https://doi.org/10.1093/maghis/19.5.36">Slaveholders justified their treatment</a> by relying on the widely accepted view of Black inferiority and the physical differences between Blacks and whites. Racist medical theory, the racist notion that the blacks were inherently inferior and animal-like who needed maltreatment to be sound for work, <a href="https://ajph.aphapublications.org/doi/10.2105/AJPH.2019.305243">was a critical element</a>. </p>
<p>Enslaved people were poorly fed, overworked and overcrowded, which promoted germ transmission. So did their housing – bare, cold and windowless, or close to it. Because they were not paid, slaves could not maintain personal hygiene. Clothes went unwashed, baths were infrequent, dental care was limited, and beds remained unclean. Body lice, ringworm and bedbugs <a href="https://doi.org/10.1093/maghis/19.5.14">were common</a>. </p>
<p>This treatment began in slave dungeons, built by Europeans on the coastal shores of Africa, where enslaved Blacks awaited shipment to the New World. In Ghana, for example, perhaps 200 were cloistered in tiny spaces where they ate, slept, urinated and defecated. Archaeological research has shown the dirt floors were soaked in vomit, urine, feces and menstrual blood. Conditions within the dungeon were so deadly that cleaning them was discouraged; those who tried <a href="https://doi.org/10.1080/21619441.2018.1578480">risked smallpox and intestinal infections</a>. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="In Ghana, a dungeon for enslaved females." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/349795/original/file-20200728-19-1930dpn.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/349795/original/file-20200728-19-1930dpn.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/349795/original/file-20200728-19-1930dpn.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/349795/original/file-20200728-19-1930dpn.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/349795/original/file-20200728-19-1930dpn.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/349795/original/file-20200728-19-1930dpn.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/349795/original/file-20200728-19-1930dpn.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A dungeon for enslaved females at the Cape Coast Fort in Ghana.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Eric Kyere</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/">CC BY-SA</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Sick slaves rarely saw doctors</h2>
<p>Diseases among the enslaved people in the colonies and later the states were common and at a disparate rate when compared to whites: typhus, measles, mumps, chicken pox, typhoid and more. Only as a last resort did the slave owner <a href="https://doi.org/10.1093/maghis/19.5.36">bring in a doctor</a>.
Instead, the white master and his wife would provide the health care, though rarely were either one trained physicians. Older enslaved women <a href="https://www.japss.org/upload/5.%20Bronson.pdf">also helped</a>, and brought their knowledge of herbs, roots, plants and midwifery from Africa to the Americas.<br>
As with everything else, Blacks had no say about their care. And if a doctor was involved, Black patients were not necessarily told anything about their condition. The medical report <a href="https://doi.org/10.1093/maghis/19.5.14">went directly</a> to the slave owner. </p>
<p>Black women played multiple roles. Of course, they were part of the labor force. And they took care of the sick. But they were also the machinery for producing more black bodies. <a href="https://ajph.aphapublications.org/doi/10.2105/AJPH.2019.305243">After the mid-Atlantic slave trade was banned</a>, slave owners needed a new source of labor. A pregnant enslaved woman provided that possibility. The birth of a baby born into slavery meant profits that potentially lasted generations, a product requiring little investment. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="1860. Enslaved people on a South Carolina plantation." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/349793/original/file-20200728-19-1jg4sah.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/349793/original/file-20200728-19-1jg4sah.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=393&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/349793/original/file-20200728-19-1jg4sah.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=393&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/349793/original/file-20200728-19-1jg4sah.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=393&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/349793/original/file-20200728-19-1jg4sah.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=494&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/349793/original/file-20200728-19-1jg4sah.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=494&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/349793/original/file-20200728-19-1jg4sah.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=494&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Slaves on an Edisto Island, South Carolina plantation, 1860.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/when-james-hopkinson-owner-of-a-plantation-on-edisto-island-news-photo/535796009?adppopup=true">Getty Images / Photo 12 / Universal Images Group</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Terrifying medical research</h2>
<p>Some of the <a href="https://www.usatoday.com/story/news/factcheck/2020/06/19/fact-check-j-marion-sims-did-medical-experiments-black-female-slaves/3202541001/">Black women were used in medical experiments</a>; much of the research, some conducted without anesthesia, focused on maternal health. As the white scientists inflicted tremendous pain on the pregnant women, the infants being carried <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Medical-Apartheid-Experimentation-Americans-Colonial/dp/076791547X">sometimes died</a>. Through the torture of these enslaved women, many white physicians and white medical institutions gained <a href="https://ajph.aphapublications.org/doi/10.2105/AJPH.2019.305243">considerable fame and wealth</a>. </p>
<p>Adverse health consequences for Blacks facilitated the establishment of some medical advances, <a href="https://www.usatoday.com/story/news/factcheck/2020/06/19/fact-check-j-marion-sims-did-medical-experiments-black-female-slaves/3202541001/">such as the invention of the speculum</a> for gynecological exams. One enslaved woman reportedly endured 30 gynecological surgeries without anesthesia. Medical interests and also economic and political interests were served. </p>
<p>More than 150 years later, the health disparities of Black and white Americans remain. To fix what is wrong today, an understanding of the inequities of the past is an imperative. Only then can we begin to dismantle the structural racism that is replete within the American system. Knowledge of the history is necessary to explore and identify the underlying mechanisms to understand how racism revives itself to continue to produce health disparities, and ways to interrupt it.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/143339/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Eric Kyere 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>The health care inequities suffered by Black Americans today began centuries ago.Eric Kyere, Assistant professor, social work, IUPUILicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1150382019-06-11T12:10:36Z2019-06-11T12:10:36ZMinorities face more obstacles to a lifesaving organ transplant<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/277708/original/file-20190603-69087-ypxh6m.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">People of color face more obstacles on the path to an organ transplant. </span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">pixfly/shutterstock.com</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Patients who experience organ failure need a transplant to improve their odds of survival and to achieve a better quality of life. </p>
<p>However, getting an organ transplant is often accompanied by several challenges, many of which can be attributed to factors like <a href="https://www.who.int/social_determinants/en/">the state of an individual’s living circumstances, their economic status and where they were born</a>.</p>
<p>As a result, many racial and ethnic minorities, such as African Americans, Latinx individuals and Native Americans, must <a href="https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1600-6143.2009.02561.x">unjustly wait longer for a much-needed new organ</a> – or never receive one at all because of these barriers to care.</p>
<p>Research shows that these disparities are avoidable, especially with changes <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/3068205">at the institutional level</a>. </p>
<h2>Which groups are less likely to get a transplant?</h2>
<p>Transplant trends from the United Network of Organ Sharing indicate that approximately <a href="https://unos.org/data/transplant-trends/">113,600 people are in need of a lifesaving solid organ as of June 2019</a>. The majority have been diagnosed with kidney disease and liver disease.</p>
<p><iframe id="beKLG" class="tc-infographic-datawrapper" src="https://datawrapper.dwcdn.net/beKLG/3/" height="400px" width="100%" style="border: none" frameborder="0"></iframe></p>
<p>The most recent data shows that, in 2016, the rate of kidney failure was highest among minority groups. For example, compared to whites, <a href="https://www.usrds.org/2018/view/v2_01.aspx">kidney failure</a> was 9.5 times higher among Native Hawaiians and Pacific Islanders. Latinx individuals were over 50% more likely to be diagnosed with kidney failure than those who did not identify as Latinx.</p>
<p>Although minorities are more likely to be diagnosed with kidney failure, they are less likely to be transplanted. <a href="https://optn.transplant.hrsa.gov/data/view-data-reports/national-data/">The majority of transplants in the U.S.</a> go to whites. </p>
<p><iframe id="NbOLL" class="tc-infographic-datawrapper" src="https://datawrapper.dwcdn.net/NbOLL/2/" height="400px" width="100%" style="border: none" frameborder="0"></iframe></p>
<p>These trends are also evident in groups suffering from liver disease. Asians and Latinx individuals are <a href="https://doi.org/10.1002/hep.28677">more likely to be diagnosed with liver failure</a>, but <a href="https://doi.org/10.1016/j.surg.2017.10.009">less likely to receive a transplant</a>.</p>
<h2>What’s causing these disparities?</h2>
<p>A patient has to undergo several steps <a href="https://doi.org/10.2215/CJN.11731111">before they can receive a transplant</a>. </p>
<p>These steps include a physician deciding that a transplant is medically suitable, the patient demonstrating interest in a transplant, a referral to a transplant center, completion of a pre-transplant evaluation and identification of a suitable living donor. </p>
<p>At each point of the transplant preparation process, there are opportunities for barriers to occur as a result of patient, provider, community and institutional factors. Together, these potentially create disparities in access. </p>
<p><a href="https://doi.org/10.1136/bmjopen-2015-008677">Income level</a> may play a role. Patients with organ failure who experience poverty, for instance, may face challenges <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3127035/">covering the cost of their insurance co-payments</a>, especially when they do not have comprehensive insurance or private insurance. </p>
<p><a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4946478/">Literacy issues</a>, such as gaps in formal education or English as a second language, may also impact a patient’s ability to understand the medical terminology involved in their treatment. This would affect their ability to communicate effectively with their providers. </p>
<p><a href="https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1399-0012.2006.00568.x">Limited knowledge of the benefits of transplantation</a> can also affect patients’ ability to access transplants. Patients who are unaware that transplantation is the preferred treatment may not complete the steps to transplant and instead remain on dialysis.</p>
<p>Providers can also play a role in limiting access. For example, doctors may not
<a href="https://doi.org/10.1097/01.TP.0000443223.89831.85">provide patients with the referral they need or wait longer to provide it</a>. </p>
<p><iframe id="9PpjB" class="tc-infographic-datawrapper" src="https://datawrapper.dwcdn.net/9PpjB/1/" height="400px" width="100%" style="border: none" frameborder="0"></iframe></p>
<p>Given negative historical experiences, such as the <a href="https://www.cdc.gov/tuskegee/timeline.htm">Tuskegee Syphilis Study</a>, some patients, especially those who have been historically disadvantaged or are currently marginalized, <a href="https://dx.doi.org/10.1016%2Fj.transproceed.2015.01.016">mistrust medical providers</a>. As a result, they are less likely to seek medical assistance or trust that their providers are giving them accurate information. </p>
<p>Also, patients who report experiences of <a href="https://doi.org/10.2105/AJPH.92.5.811">discrimination by their medical providers</a> are less likely to seek transplantation. They may be discouraged from seeking further medical care because they expect poor treatment by providers. </p>
<p>Low rates of organ donation also influence transplant rates. Although about 95% of Americans are in favor of organ donation, <a href="https://www.organdonor.gov/statistics-stories/statistics.html">only 58% of them are registered as organ donors</a>. These low donation rates are pronounced among racial/ethnic minorities. This could be attributed to factors such as <a href="https://doi.org/10.1080/08838151.2017.1309413">not knowing other registered donors in one’s community and mistrust of providers</a>. </p>
<h2>How can medical providers close the gap?</h2>
<p>I am a counseling psychologist whose research examines health inequities and treatment. Given the enormity of these factors, I conducted a study with my colleague, <a href="https://cph.temple.edu/socialbehavioral/faculty/heather-traino">Heather Gardiner</a>, director of the Health Disparities Research Lab at Temple University.</p>
<p>We sought to identify barriers to the pre-transplant evaluation for African American kidney patients. Patients who complete this evaluation successfully become active on the waitlist.</p>
<p>We looked at barriers at several levels: individual barriers, such as limited income; health barriers, such as having multiple health conditions in addition to kidney disease; educational barriers, such as limited knowledge about the kidney transplant process; and systemic barriers, such as long wait times for medical appointments. We also asked people what motivated them to pursue a transplant.</p>
<p>Our research leads us to believe that changing systemic problems will help address problems at the other levels.</p>
<p>For example, medical providers could consider condensing the medical appointments and testing period for the pre-transplant evaluation. Patients who are motivated to get off dialysis will be more motivated to complete the pre-transplant evaluation if they are able to complete the majority of their medical testing at one place over a short period, rather than having to attend several medical appointments over a long period of time. </p>
<h2>Policy changes also matter</h2>
<p>In order to decide who gets an organ, medical providers give liver patients a MELD score that indicates the severity of their disease.</p>
<p>The introduction of <a href="https://unos.org/wp-content/uploads/unos/MELD_PELD.pdf">the current liver allocation system</a> in 2002 <a href="https://doi.org/10.1001/jama.2008.732">reduced the number of people from minority groups who died waiting for an organ</a>. </p>
<p>Under the previous system, African Americans were more likely to die waiting for a liver transplant, because they generally had higher MELD scores, indicating that their disease was becoming worse. However, the current system prioritizes patients with high MELD scores, which has improved liver transplant rates for this group. </p>
<p>The <a href="https://optn.transplant.hrsa.gov/news/two-year-analysis-shows-effects-of-kidney-allocation-system/">2014 policy change in kidney allocation</a> allowed patients to count time spent on dialysis toward their total time spent on the waitlist, thereby reducing racial and ethnic disparities.</p>
<p>The success of these systemic changes illustrates the effectiveness of policy change. In my view, policies such as comprehensive Medicare coverage – with transportation assistance for all patients with kidney disease, for example – could potentially reduce many of the disparities along the steps to a successful transplant. </p>
<p>Countries such as Austria and Norway have seen significant improvements in their organ donation rates by using an <a href="https://www.who.int/bulletin/volumes/93/3/14-139535/en/">opt-out system, which is based on the assumption that everyone consents unless an individual notes otherwise</a>. Although this topic may be somewhat controversial in the U.S., I feel that the potential benefits of an opt-out policy are worth exploring.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/115038/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Camilla Nonterah received funding from the American Psychological Association to conduct the study described in this article. </span></em></p>Although certain racial minorities are more likely to be diagnosed with organ failure, they are less likely to be transplanted. What’s behind the gap?Camilla Nonterah, Assistant Professor of Health Psychology, University of RichmondLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1118112019-03-29T10:44:37Z2019-03-29T10:44:37ZJessie Simmons: How a schoolteacher became an unsung hero of the civil rights movement<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/261721/original/file-20190301-110110-1gxxe8e.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=20%2C11%2C410%2C386&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Jessie Dean Gipson Simmons, shown top center about age 37, c. 1961
[Clockwise: daughter Angela, sons Obadiah Jerone, Jr. and Carl,
and husband Obadiah Jerone, Sr.; daughters Carolyn and Quendelyn are not pictured]</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Simmons family archives</span>, <span class="license">Author provided</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Jessie Dean Gipson Simmons was full of optimism when she and her family moved from an apartment in a troubled area of Detroit to a new development in Inkster, Michigan in 1955.</p>
<p>With three children in tow, Jessie and her husband settled into a home on Colgate Street in a neighborhood known as “Brick City” – an idyllic enclave of single, working-class families with a shared community garden. </p>
<p>The plan was simple. Like many African Americans who left the South as part of the <a href="https://instintofemenino.org/book/454167311/download-the-promised-land-by-nicholas-lemann.pdf">Great Migration</a>, Jessie’s husband, Obadiah Sr., would find a stable factory job just outside of Detroit. Then Jessie would put to use the bachelor’s degree she had earned in upper elementary education from Grambling State University in the township of Taylor - just a few blocks from their new home.</p>
<p>But the plan went awry. Jessie first applied for a teaching position with the Taylor school district in April 1958, but was denied. The same thing happened in March 1959. And a third time in May 1959. The repeated denials may have set back Jessie’s plans, but they also set her up to fight an important battle for justice for black educators at a time when many were being pushed out of the teaching profession.</p>
<p>I interviewed Jessie’s family as part of my ongoing <a href="https://www.emeraldinsight.com/doi/abs/10.1108/S2051-231720170000006002">research</a> into the history of black women teachers from the Reconstruction Era to the 21st century.</p>
<h2>Fighting back</h2>
<p>The battle began when Jessie filed a grievance with the Michigan Fair Employment Practices Commission, or MFEPC, on Sept. 1, 1959. Jessie’s grievance detailed her conversation with the superintendent Orville Jones in March 1958, in which he told her “there would be vacancies in 1959.”</p>
<p>In August 1958, the Taylor Township Board of Education – the body overseeing the school district where Jessie wanted to teach – took up the matter of employing Negro teachers at a board meeting. The reason the item was placed on the agenda? The Superintendent at the time, Orville Jones, “felt that any handicap” – he deemed race as a handicap – “be pointed out to the board.” </p>
<p>The chair of the school board, Mr. Randall, stated applications were “considered in the order of the dates they were received.” Since the Taylor school board was now on record regarding its hiring practices for teachers, Jessie used that statement in her grievance. </p>
<p>Jessie’s decision to file a grievance would be a costly one for her family. The couple had planned on two steady incomes. In 1959, now a mother of five children, Jessie took a job as a waitress and a cook in a cafe to make ends meet. Her job drew scorn from family members in Louisiana who knew she was severely underemployed. And though her children didn’t know it at the time, Jessie and her husband “gave up meals so the children could eat,” according to Jessie’s oldest son, Obidiah Jr. </p>
<p>In 1960 the MFEPC held a public hearing for the grievance filed by Jessie and Mary Ruth Ross - a second black teacher who was also denied employment by the Taylor board of education. According to the Detroit Courier, Jessie and Mary “were passed over for employment in favor of white applicants who lacked degrees.” Records uncovered by the MFEPC found that 42 non-degreed teachers hired between 1957 through 1960 were all white and “had a maximum of 60 hours of college credits.” Jessie and Mary, on the other hand, were both degreed teachers with some credits toward a graduate degree. </p>
<h2>How the Brown decision hurt black teachers</h2>
<p>While the 1954 <a href="https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/history-of-education-quarterly/article/displacement-of-black-educators-postbrown-an-overview-and-analysis/39F33F06BE781D421943FBC057BA0499">Brown v. Board of Education decision</a> is often celebrated and considered a legal victory, many scholars believe it had a harmful effect on black teachers. In 1951, scholars writing in the <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/2966458?casa_token=hJWNsTvlBvcAAAAA:m9du8py5MgBpuKGHXkjVy4qANlHnyn3NuQNRyT50IFS1Vfc1PfilIsSiioJVodnYGcZ6rHjX6z6Hg9EcxJfCCJVnCr3yFDgC4NyfDwyFmhDgn2OpWZLtgw&seq=1#metadata_info_tab_contents">Journal of Negro Education</a> rightly warned that Brown “might conceivably” impact “Negro teachers”. Nationwide, school district leaders pushed back against Brown in two ways.</p>
<p>First, school leaders slow-walked the implementation of Brown – for many school districts as late as the <a href="https://eric.ed.gov/?id=ED293936">mid-1980s</a>. Second, black teachers across the country lost their once-secure teaching jobs by the tens of thousands after Brown when black schools closed and black children integrated into white schools. In the South, for example, the number of black teachers had soared to around 90,000 pre-Brown. But by 1965 nearly half had <a href="https://academic.oup.com/jah/article-abstract/91/1/43/798551?redirectedFrom=fulltext">lost their jobs</a>. A 1965 report from the National Education Association, a leading labor union for teachers, concluded school districts had “no place for Negroes” in the wake of Brown. School officials railed against Brown and refused to hire black teachers like Jessie, turning them into what sociologist Oliver Cox described as <a href="https://scholar.google.com/scholar?hl=en&as_sdt=0%2C44&q=Cox%2C+Oliver+C.+%E2%80%9CNegro+Teachers%3A+Martyrs+to+Integration%3F%2C%E2%80%9D+The+Nation%2C+Vol.+176+%28April+25%2C+1953%29%3A+347%E2%80%93348.&btnG=">“martyrs to integration</a>.”</p>
<p>My own <a href="https://www.emeraldinsight.com/doi/abs/10.1108/S2051-231720170000006002">research</a> confirms that the forced exodus of black women from the teaching profession was ignited by Brown. Discrimination by school leaders fueled the demographic decline of black teachers and remains one of the leading factors for their <a href="https://graduate.lclark.edu/live/files/18709-twp-li-2515-minority-teacher-fact-or">under-representation in the profession today</a>. </p>
<h2>First ruling of its kind</h2>
<p>At the eight-day public hearing, Jones admitted that “the hiring of Negro teachers would be something new and different and something we had not done before.” He stated he felt that the Negro teachers were “not up to par.” The hearing eventually revealed that applications for “Negroes” were kept in distinct folders – separated from the submissions of the white applicants.</p>
<p>After more than a year, the MFEPC issued a ruling in Jessie’s case. The decision got a <a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=YK8DAAAAMBAJ&printsec=frontcover&hl=En&source=gbs_ge_summary_r&cad=0#v=onepage&q&f=false">brief mention</a> from Jet Magazine on Dec. 1, 1960:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>In the first ruling of its kind, the MFEPC ordered the Taylor Township School Board to hire Mrs. Mary Ruth Ross and Mrs. Jessie Simmons, two Negro teachers, and pay them back wages for the school years of 1959-60 and 1960-61. FEPC Commissioner Allan A. Zaun said the teachers were refused employment on the basis of race.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>The attorney for the Taylor board of education, Harry F. Vellmure, threatened to challenge the ruling in court - all the way “to the Supreme Court if necessary,” according to the Detroit Courier. The board stuck to its position that Jessie and Mary were given full and fair consideration for teaching jobs and simply lost out to better qualified teachers.</p>
<p>As a result of noncompliance with the MFEPC’s order, Carl Levin, future U.S. senator and general counsel for the Michigan Civil Rights Commission, filed a discrimination lawsuit against the Taylor school district on Jessie’s and Mary’s behalf. Even though the matter did not reach higher courts, Vellmure filed several appeals that effectively slowed down the commission’s order for seven years.</p>
<p>As the lawsuit dragged on, Jessie became an elementary school teacher with the Sumpter School District in 1961. By 1965, she left Sumpter for the Romulus Community School District. According to Jessie’s children, they would continue in the Taylor school district and were known as the kids “whose mother filed the lawsuit against the school district.”</p>
<p>In 1967, after seven years of fighting the Taylor school district in local court, Jessie and Mary prevailed. They were awarded two years back pay and teaching positions. Saddled by hurt feelings after a long fight with the Taylor school district, Jessie declined the offer and continued teaching in Romulus. </p>
<p>The Simmons moved into a larger, newly constructed home on Lehigh Avenue. Jessie gave birth to her sixth child, Kimberly, one month before moving in. Although the new home was only two blocks south of their old home on Colgate Avenue, Jessie’s four surviving children recall that their lifestyle improved and their childhood was now defined by two eras: “before lawsuit life and after lawsuit life.” And by 1968, Jessie earned a master’s degree in education from Eastern Michigan University.</p>
<h2>Unsung civil rights hero</h2>
<p>At her retirement in 1986, Jessie’s former students recalled that she was an effective teacher of 30 years who was known as a disciplinarian with a profound sense of commitment to the children of Romulus.</p>
<p>Jessie’s story is a reminder that the civil rights movement did not push society to a better version of itself with a singular, vast wave toward freedom. Rather, it was fashioned by little ripples of courage with one person, one schoolteacher, at a time.</p>
<hr>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/bjdtVDDUXvE?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">The Loss of Black Women Teachers.</span></figcaption>
</figure><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/111811/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Valerie Hill-Jackson 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>When Jessie Simmons applied for a teaching job in 1958, her application went to a separate file for “Negro teachers” and got rejected. An education scholar recounts how Simmons fought back and won.Valerie Hill-Jackson, Clinical Professor of Educator Preparation and Director, Educator Preparation and School Partnerships, Texas A&M UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1114832019-02-28T11:41:42Z2019-02-28T11:41:42ZWhy wealth equality remains out of reach for black Americans<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/260799/original/file-20190225-26152-du20oj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">When it comes to wealth, black families still lag far behind in the U.S.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/hands-family-together-holding-house-green-535369429?src=VaQXdcR-kbWL6rgu8oWQrA-1-100">Twinsterphoto/shutterstock.com</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Black History Month has become the time to reflect on all the progress black Americans have made, but the sobering reality is that when it comes to wealth – the paramount indicator of economic security – there has been virtually no progress in the last 50 years. </p>
<p>Based on data from <a href="https://www.federalreserve.gov/econres/scfindex.htm">the Federal Reserve’s Survey of Consumer Finance</a>, the typical black family has only 10 cents for every dollar held by the typical white family.</p>
<p>While there is no magic bullet for racism, access to wealth, and the security to pass it down from one generation to the next, would go a long way toward changing the economic trajectory for blacks. </p>
<p><a href="https://scholar.google.com/citations?user=11fhzgEAAAAJ&hl=en">As researchers</a> <a href="https://scholar.google.com/scholar?hl=en&as_sdt=0%2C48&q=trevon+logan&btnG=">who study</a> historical and contemporary racial inequality, we mostly conceive of wealth as a maker of success, but its true value is functional: the independence and economic security that it provides.</p>
<p><iframe id="BKKgy" class="tc-infographic-datawrapper" src="https://datawrapper.dwcdn.net/BKKgy/2/" height="400px" width="100%" style="border: none" frameborder="0"></iframe></p>
<h2>Out of slavery</h2>
<p>Until the end of legal slavery in the U.S., enslaved people were considered valuable assets and a form of wealth. In the South, entrepreneurs and slave owners <a href="https://doi.org/10.1017/S0022050717000493">took loans out against the collateral value of their property</a> in the form of people to fund new businesses. </p>
<p>The U.S. government has a long history of facilitating wealth for white Americans. From at least <a href="https://www.archives.gov/education/lessons/homestead-act">the Land Act of 1785</a>, Congress sought to transfer wealth to citizens on terms that were quite favorable. In some instances, land could be attained by the luck of the draw – <a href="https://doi.org/10.1093/qje/qjw014">but only if you were a white man.</a></p>
<p>While <a href="https://www.harpercollins.com/9780062354518/reconstruction-updated-edition/">the 1866 Homestead Act</a> sought to include blacks specifically in the transfer of public lands to private farmers, <a href="https://global.oup.com/academic/product/the-republic-for-which-it-stands-9780199735815?cc=us&lang=en&">discrimination and poor implementation doomed the policy</a>. Black politicians during Reconstruction attempted to use tax policy <a href="https://www.nber.org/papers/w24190">to force land on the market</a>, but this was met with violent resistance.</p>
<p>While blacks did make gains in wealth acquisition after chattel slavery ended, the pace was slow and started from a base of essentially nothing. Whites could use violence to force blacks from their property via the terrorism of <a href="https://definitions.uslegal.com/w/whitecapping/">whitecapping</a>, where blacks were literally run out of town and their possessions stolen. This includes the race riots, as <a href="https://tennesseeencyclopedia.net/entries/memphis-race-riot-of-1866/">in Memphis in 1866</a> and <a href="https://www.history.com/topics/roaring-twenties/tulsa-race-riot">Tulsa in 1921</a>, which systematically destroyed or stole the wealth blacks had acquired, and <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/44113425">lowered the rate of black innovation</a>. Black wealth was tenuous without the rule of law to prevent unlawful seizures. </p>
<p>By 1915, <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/1810013">black property owners in the South</a> had <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/1805145">less than one-tenth of the wealth of white landowners</a>. </p>
<p>This trend remained stable for the next 50 years. In 1965, 100 years after Emancipation, blacks were more than 10 percent of the population, but held less than 2 percent of the wealth in the U.S., <a href="https://doi.org/10.1007/BF03040684">and less than 0.1 percent of the wealth in stocks</a>. Wealth had remained fundamentally unchanged and structurally out of reach of the vast majority of blacks.</p>
<p><iframe id="HPeJI" class="tc-infographic-datawrapper" src="https://datawrapper.dwcdn.net/HPeJI/1/" height="400px" width="100%" style="border: none" frameborder="0"></iframe></p>
<h2>Housing assistance and education</h2>
<p>These racially exclusionary systems endured well into the 20th century. </p>
<p>A complicit Federal Housing Administration permitted the use of restrictive covenants, which forbade home sales to blacks; redlining, which defined black communities as hazardous areas, directly reducing property values and increasing rates; and general housing and lending discrimination against African-Americans through the <a href="https://doi.org/10.1257/aer.p20171081">20th</a> and <a href="https://doi.org/10.1177/0003122410380868">21st centuries</a>.</p>
<p>Moreover, blacks were largely excluded from the New Deal and World War II public policies, which were responsible for the asset creation of an American middle class. </p>
<p>The GI Bill is one example of several postwar policies in which the federal government invested heavily in the greatest growth of a white asset-based American middle class, to the exclusion of blacks. <a href="https://books.wwnorton.com/books/detail.aspx?id=8023">Historian Ira Katznelson</a> documents that, by 1950, via the GI Bill, the American government spent more on education than the Marshall Plan that rebuilt Europe. But most American colleges and universities were closed to blacks, or open to only but a few in token numbers.</p>
<p>Meanwhile, GI benefits in education, employment, entrepreneurship and housing assistance were all distributed overwhelmingly toward whites. In the Jim Crow segregated South, there was a truncated housing supply. These factors limited the ability of historically black colleges and universities to <a href="https://prospect.org/article/why-black-colleges-and-universities-still-matter">accommodate the education and housing needs of black veterans</a>.</p>
<p>It is important to note that it was never the case that a white asset-based middle class simply emerged. Rather, it was government policy, and to some extent literal government giveaways, that provided whites the finance, education, land and infrastructure to accumulate and pass down wealth. In contrast, blacks were largely excluded from these wealth generating benefits. When they were able to accumulate land and enterprise, it was often stolen, destroyed or seized by government complicit theft, fraud and terror.</p>
<h2>Building new wealth</h2>
<p>Nonetheless, blacks have still been able to overcome tremendous odds, particularly in acquiring education. Social science research indicates that blacks attain more years of schooling and education credentials than whites from families <a href="https://doi.org/10.1007%2Fs12552-010-9037-8">with comparable resources</a>. In other words, blacks place a premium on education as a means of mobility. </p>
<p>Despite this investment, the racial wealth gap expands at higher levels of education. Black families where the head graduated from college have less wealth than white families where the <a href="http://www.insightcced.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/08/Umbrellas_Dont_Make_It_Rain_Final.pdf">head dropped out of high school</a>.</p>
<p><iframe id="GhcbJ" class="tc-infographic-datawrapper" src="https://datawrapper.dwcdn.net/GhcbJ/2/" height="400px" width="100%" style="border: none" frameborder="0"></iframe></p>
<p>Rather than education leading to wealth, it is wealth that facilitates the acquisition of an expensive education. The essential value of wealth is its functional role; the financial security to take risks and the financial agency that wealth affords is transformative.</p>
<p>In our view, education alone cannot address the centuries-long exclusion of blacks from the benefits of wealth-generating policies and the extraction of whatever wealth they may have. The most just approach would be a comprehensive reparation program that acknowledges these grievances and offers compensatory restitution, including ownership of land and other means of production.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/111483/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Trevon Logan receives funding from Washington Center for Equitable Growth. </span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Darrick Hamilton 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>Thanks to a long history of exclusionary government programs, the typical black family now has only 10 cents for every dollar held by the typical white family.Darrick Hamilton, Executive Director of the Kirwan Institute for the Study of Race and Ethnicity, The Ohio State UniversityTrevon Logan, Hazel C. Youngberg Distinguished Professor of Economics, The Ohio State UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/1013542018-08-19T12:44:00Z2018-08-19T12:44:00ZSwimming while Black<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/232139/original/file-20180815-2891-1n0srsn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">United States' Simone Manuel who won the Olympic gold medal for the U.S. in the 100-meter freestyle at the 2016 Summer Olympics in Rio, said she hopes for a day when there are more Black swimmers.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">(AP Photo/Natacha Pisarenko)</span></span></figcaption></figure><iframe style="width: 100%; height: 250px; border: none; position: relative; z-index: 1;" src="https://narrations.ad-auris.com/widget/the-conversation-canada/swimming-while-black" width="100%" height="400"></iframe>
<p>Why did the Black boy drown? Because he couldn’t swim.</p>
<p>And he couldn’t swim because learning to swim is one of those intersections where race, space and class collide. <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/40034351?seq=1#page_scan_tab_contents">Black people in the United States drown at five times the rate of white people</a>. And most of those deaths occur in public swimming pools.</p>
<p><a href="https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/toronto/jeremiah-perry-funeral-1.4219642">Jeremiah Perry drowned on a school trip</a> last summer. The group of 33 teenagers and their teachers were enjoying a classic Canadian experience – canoeing in the wilderness. The group stood out in Algonquin Park because most of the kids were Black. And finding <a href="https://nationalpost.com/news/canada/canadas-adventure-gap-why-it-doesnt-makes-sense-for-the-great-outdoors-to-be-such-a-white-space">Black people in the woods</a> is rare. </p>
<p>The swimming ability of the group quickly became a key issue in the preliminary investigation into Perry’s death. It turned out that <a href="https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/toronto/criminal-negligence-nicholas-mills-jeremiah-perry-drowning-1.4763287">half of the kids could not swim.</a> </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/232152/original/file-20180815-2918-12wwvk2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/232152/original/file-20180815-2918-12wwvk2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/232152/original/file-20180815-2918-12wwvk2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/232152/original/file-20180815-2918-12wwvk2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/232152/original/file-20180815-2918-12wwvk2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/232152/original/file-20180815-2918-12wwvk2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/232152/original/file-20180815-2918-12wwvk2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Jeremiah Perry in an undated photo.</span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Swimming lessons</h2>
<p>Swimming lessons are a rite of passage for most Canadian children. But race complicates the splashes, shrieks and laughter in swimming pools.</p>
<p>In Canada, <a href="https://www.thestar.com/news/gta/2010/07/15/drowning_risk_greater_for_immigrants.html">immigrants are less likely to learn to swim</a> or to swim as recreation. Most Canadian newcomers hail from Asia, Africa and the Caribbean. Jeremiah Perry was a recent immigrant from Guyana.</p>
<p>In my old multicultural Toronto neighbourhood of Parkdale, some 90 per cent of the kids learning to swim were white. In my new neighbourhood of Regent Park, which started with Toronto’s oldest social housing project, <a href="https://globalnews.ca/news/243057/background-torontos-regent-park/">more than half the population are people of colour and recent immigrants</a>. They don’t appear to like swimming because the free municipal pool still overflows with white people. Yet the park around the pool is filled with brown and Black people enjoying the outdoors and frolicking in the sprinkler fountains. For them, taking the step from outside to inside the swimming pool seems to be as hard as trying to swim across the Atlantic Ocean.</p>
<h2>‘No trees in the water’</h2>
<p>Warm seas and golden sandy beaches are standard icons in tourism images of the Caribbean. So too are hotels with deep blue swimming pools. Surrounded by so much water, one would expect Caribbean people to be expert swimmers. They are not.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/232154/original/file-20180815-2912-1tmuwtc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/232154/original/file-20180815-2912-1tmuwtc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=338&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/232154/original/file-20180815-2912-1tmuwtc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=338&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/232154/original/file-20180815-2912-1tmuwtc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=338&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/232154/original/file-20180815-2912-1tmuwtc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=425&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/232154/original/file-20180815-2912-1tmuwtc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=425&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/232154/original/file-20180815-2912-1tmuwtc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=425&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Most swimming pools in Jamaica are owned by hotels catering to tourists.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Shutterstock</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The majority of Caribbean swimming pools are owned by hotels and cater to tourists. Race colours the pools. Most of the people in the pools are white visitors, while those cleaning or serving cocktails at the pool-side bar are Black locals. </p>
<figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/232148/original/file-20180815-2921-10i7jeb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/232148/original/file-20180815-2921-10i7jeb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/232148/original/file-20180815-2921-10i7jeb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/232148/original/file-20180815-2921-10i7jeb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/232148/original/file-20180815-2921-10i7jeb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1005&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/232148/original/file-20180815-2921-10i7jeb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1005&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/232148/original/file-20180815-2921-10i7jeb.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1005&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">‘Smile Orange’ (1976) takes a critical look at tourism in Jamaica.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Smile Orange/Knuts Production</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Seen through this lens, as shown in the classic movie, <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0075237/"><em>Smile Orange</em></a>, hotel swimming pools are the continuation of the old colonial project — white people at play, cooling off in the water, in a country club style setting. Black people at work, sweating in the hot sun. <a href="https://www.dukeupress.edu/an-eye-for-the-tropics">Not allowed in the pools.</a> </p>
<p>Most people in the Caribbean don’t have access to swimming pools. If they want to learn to swim, they must do so in a natural body of water such as the sea or a river.</p>
<p>As a child in Jamaica, my grandmother forbade us to go to the sea. “There are no trees in the water,” she warned us. Every year some child drowned, going out of their depth, <a href="https://www.theglobeandmail.com/life/first-person/article-i-was-a-young-lifeguard-but-id-already-learned-how-quickly-kids/">silently sinking to a salty, watery grave.</a> </p>
<h2>Drowning in racism</h2>
<p>I learned to swim in England, where weekly swimming classes were a standard part of the school curriculum. A <a href="http://www.swimming.org/%7Ewidgets/ASA_Research_Library/Black%20Minority%20Ethnic%20Swimming/ExBME8%20Sporting%20Equals%20BME%20Communities%20and%20Swimming%202012.pdf">report from the Amateur Swimming Association</a> showed that there is a pent up demand for swimming from Black people in England. Most don’t go to the pool because they don’t see other Black people swimming. The same report indicated South Asians are the least likely to venture into the water.</p>
<p><a href="https://scholarworks.bgsu.edu/ijare/vol8/iss3/4/">Swimming and African Americans are not a classic pairing either</a>. Imagine a pool party. The Black people mingle around the pool, while the white people are in the pool. </p>
<figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/232177/original/file-20180815-2912-12par3n.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/232177/original/file-20180815-2912-12par3n.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=936&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/232177/original/file-20180815-2912-12par3n.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=936&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/232177/original/file-20180815-2912-12par3n.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=936&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/232177/original/file-20180815-2912-12par3n.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1176&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/232177/original/file-20180815-2912-12par3n.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1176&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/232177/original/file-20180815-2912-12par3n.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1176&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">June 1964. Black children integrate the swimming pool of the Monson Motel in St. Augustine, Fla. To force them out, the manager of the motel pours acid into the water.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Horace Cort</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>African Americans’ antipathy towards swimming is rooted in segregation and racism. It was not so long ago that public beaches and pools in the United States displayed “Whites Only” signs. Blacks who entered these beaches were chased off or got a good beating. <a href="http://journals.sagepub.com/doi/abs/10.1177/0193723513520553">Pools were drained if a Black person got in. One Black person contaminated the whole thing.</a></p>
<p>Segregation continues today, but it is more subtle. Most white children learn to swim in pools that are in private recreational clubs in the suburbs. Black children often contend with poorly maintained and over-crowded public pools in the urban centres — if pools exist at all. </p>
<p>If parents can’t swim, it is less likely that their children will learn to swim. Parents fear of drowning means they are unlikely to sign up their kids for swimming lessons, even when these are available.</p>
<h2>Drowning while Black</h2>
<p>I like to do laps in the swimming pool for an hour or so. Front-crawl up the length of the pool and breast-stroke on the return. Dreadlocks streaming down my back. Keeping time with the clock. Every so often I will get the look. Whether from a Black or white person, it expresses surprise that I am at ease in the water. Sometimes, it starts a conversation.</p>
<p>How many times have I heard that Black people can’t swim <a href="https://pdfs.semanticscholar.org/decd/9240f4fa7efd0c1f81bf10fc5a5625cc6ce0.pdf">because our bones are too dense? Or we can’t float as our big bottoms drag us down under the water?</a></p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/232175/original/file-20180815-2912-yq9xul.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/232175/original/file-20180815-2912-yq9xul.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/232175/original/file-20180815-2912-yq9xul.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/232175/original/file-20180815-2912-yq9xul.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/232175/original/file-20180815-2912-yq9xul.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=504&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/232175/original/file-20180815-2912-yq9xul.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=504&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/232175/original/file-20180815-2912-yq9xul.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=504&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Led by the activist Edward T. Coll, a group of parents and children from inner-city Hartford lead a protest march in the 1970s in front of seaside mansions in Old Saybrook, Conn.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="http://www.bobadelman.net/">Copyright and courtesy Bob Adelman</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>These comments attempt to <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/10646175.2014.888380">use genetics to explain the low rate of swimming among Blacks.</a> Scientific racism is nothing new when it comes to the Black community. Its original purpose was <a href="https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/the-hanging-of-angelique-book-review/">to justify slavery</a>.</p>
<p>The echoes of past stereotypes continue to shape Black lives. In the case of swimming, scientific racism now claims that Black people are less likely to swim as, <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2008/aug/25/race.olympics2008">our muscles don’t twitch at the right speed.</a></p>
<p>These explanations avoid looking at how swimming and systemic racism intersect. They do so on so many levels in my local pool. The pool’s general advertising reaches middle-class white people from outside the neighbourhood, they drive to it attracted by its <a href="https://www.canadianarchitect.com/features/governor-generals-regent-park/">award-winning architecture</a>. The pool has done little outreach targeting the Black community, including advertising swimming lessons for its children. </p>
<h2>Swimming to the future</h2>
<p>Swimming is part of the cultural capital of a middle-class lifestyle. The poorer you are the less likely you are to learn to swim or visit a pool. The spectre of colonialism lurks. The high drowning rates among Black people is merely another symptom of the <a href="https://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=6955366">after-life of slavery</a>.</p>
<figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/232176/original/file-20180815-2921-1k9q7ze.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/232176/original/file-20180815-2921-1k9q7ze.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=398&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/232176/original/file-20180815-2921-1k9q7ze.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=398&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/232176/original/file-20180815-2921-1k9q7ze.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=398&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/232176/original/file-20180815-2921-1k9q7ze.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=501&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/232176/original/file-20180815-2921-1k9q7ze.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=501&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/232176/original/file-20180815-2921-1k9q7ze.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=501&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Enith Brigitha was the first Black swimmer to win a gold medal in 1976.</span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Olympic swimmers are the apex of achievement in sport. For a long time, Black people were absent from the elite swimming teams. The <a href="http://curacaochronicle.com/social/good-to-know-first-black-athlete-to-win-swimming-medal-in-the-olympics-was-from-curacao/">first Black person to win an Olympic medal in swimming was Enith Brigitha in 1976 Montreal Olympics.</a> She was from Curacao in the Caribbean and swam on the Dutch team. In 1988, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LEJKDVtjlk0">Anthony Nesty from Suriname became the first Black man to win an Olympic gold in swimming.</a></p>
<p>Each decade the number of <a href="https://mediadiversified.org/2016/08/17/its-time-to-address-the-persistent-stereotype-that-black-people-cant-swim/">Black swimmers at the Olympics Games increases</a>. The latest was <a href="https://www.macleans.ca/olympics/simone-manuel-becomes-first-african-american-woman-to-win-swim-gold/">Simone Manuel, the first Black woman to win a gold for the U.S.</a> in swimming at the 2016 Rio Olympics. </p>
<p>Black swimmers at the Olympics gives hope that swimming is shifting from a white sport to a more diverse one. As attitudes shift, more Black children should learn to swim and the drowning rate should fall.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/101354/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>Summer time and time to cool off in a pool or lake? The statistics reveal that race complicates the issue: in the U.S., Black people drown at five times the rate of white people.Jacqueline L. Scott, PhD Student, Social Justice Education, University of TorontoLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/985302018-06-19T10:27:20Z2018-06-19T10:27:20ZJuneteenth: Freedom’s promise is still denied to thousands of blacks unable to make bail<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/223675/original/file-20180618-85849-1akbwxg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Black men occupy a disproportionate share of prison cells in the U.S.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">sakhorn/Shutterstock.com</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>June 19 marks Juneteenth, a celebration of the de facto end of slavery in the United States. </p>
<p>For hundreds of thousands of African-Americans stuck in pretrial detention – accused but not convicted of a crime, and unable to leave because of bail – that promise remains unfulfilled. And coming immediately after Father’s Day, it’s also a reminder of the loss associated with the forced separation of families.</p>
<p>On a very personal level, I know how this separation feels. Every Father’s Day since 2011, I’ve been reminded of the unexpected death of my dad at the age of 48. But also on a professional level, as a criminologist who has been <a href="https://scholar.google.com/citations?user=CwF5k6YAAAAJ&hl=en">researching mass incarceration</a> for the past decade, I understand the disproportionate impact it’s had on African-Americans, <a href="http://journals.sagepub.com/doi/abs/10.1177/0002716208324850">destabilizing black families</a> in the process. </p>
<h2>Blacks behind bars</h2>
<p>Juneteenth is a celebration of African-Americans’ triumph over slavery and access to freedom in the U.S., which occurred in Galveston, Texas, in June of 1865, over two and a half years after President Lincoln’s <a href="https://www.history.com/topics/american-civil-war/emancipation-proclamation">Emancipation Proclamation</a>. </p>
<p>While Juneteenth is a momentous day in U.S. history, it is important to appreciate that the civil rights and liberties promised to African-Americans have yet to be fully realized. As legal scholar Michelle Alexander <a href="https://thenewpress.com/books/new-jim-crow">forcefully explains</a>, this is a consequence of Jim Crow laws and the proliferation of incarceration that began in the 1970s, including the increase of people placed in <a href="https://heinonline.org/HOL/Page?handle=hein.journals/bulr97&div=4&id=&page=&collection=journals">pretrial detention</a> and <a href="https://link.springer.com/content/pdf/10.1007/s12111-001-1013-3.pdf">other criminal justice policies</a>. </p>
<p><a href="https://www.prisonpolicy.org/reports/pie2018.html">There are 2.3 million people</a> currently incarcerated in American prisons and jails – including those not convicted of any crime. Black people <a href="https://www.prisonpolicy.org/reports/pie2018.html">comprise 40 percent of them</a>, even though they represent just 13 percent of the U.S. population. </p>
<figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/223672/original/file-20180618-85858-igkuau.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/223672/original/file-20180618-85858-igkuau.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=784&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/223672/original/file-20180618-85858-igkuau.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=784&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/223672/original/file-20180618-85858-igkuau.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=784&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/223672/original/file-20180618-85858-igkuau.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=985&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/223672/original/file-20180618-85858-igkuau.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=985&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/223672/original/file-20180618-85858-igkuau.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=985&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Protesters march through Harlem in the March for Justice.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Rainmaker Photo/MediaPunch/IPX</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Not yet guilty but not free</h2>
<p>More troubling is the number of incarcerated individuals currently held in jail for crimes of which they have not yet been convicted. </p>
<p>The <a href="https://www.prisonpolicy.org/">Prison Policy Initiative</a>, a nonpartisan think tank that focuses on mass incarceration, <a href="https://www.prisonpolicy.org/reports/pie2018.html">has reported</a> that over a half million citizens are languishing in pretrial detention. And like most criminal justice outcomes, the burden of this <a href="https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/abs/10.1111/soc4.12576">disproportionately falls on minorities</a>, especially black <a href="http://www.pretrial.org/release-jail-tied-black-poor/">men</a> and <a href="https://storage.googleapis.com/vera-web-assets/downloads/Publications/overlooked-women-and-jails-report/legacy_downloads/overlooked-women-and-jails-fact-sheet.pdf">women</a>. </p>
<p>In local jails alone, over 300,000 people are awaiting trial for property, drug or public order crimes. And again, these <a href="https://www.brennancenter.org/sites/default/files/publications/Racial%20Disparities%20Report%20062515.pdf">disproportionately black defendants</a> are confined and separated from their families, friends and jobs simply because they lack the means to post cash bail – the only reason they can’t get out. </p>
<h2>Toll on families</h2>
<p>It should be no surprise, then, that <a href="http://www.pewtrusts.org/%7E/media/legacy/uploadedfiles/pcs_assets/2010/collateralcosts1pdf.pdf">1 in 9 black children</a> now has a parent behind bars, compared with the national rate of 1 in 28. </p>
<p>And many of these children are at an increased likelihood of experiencing <a href="http://pediatrics.aappublications.org/content/131/4/e1188.short">physical and mental health issues</a>, <a href="https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1111/j.1745-9125.2011.00257.x">academic struggles</a> and a range of <a href="https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1111/j.1360-0443.2010.03110.x">other behavioral problems</a>. Children of incarcerated mothers are also at heightened odds of <a href="http://heinonline.org/hol-cgi-bin/get_pdf.cgi?handle=hein.journals/uclalr59&section=42&casa_token=_1TPFIpjGMEAAAAA:t0nAOwVTZjH2WNjPI7gpIbxNoBEZmJN9C0vNJBJxo_YZnvCvxCKGd8i_HDOM2vvoAX-potSUuA">ending up in foster care</a> and <a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/politics/archive/2015/12/why-children-with-parents-in-prison-are-especially-burdened/433638/">being exposed to other traumas</a>.</p>
<p>Being the partner of an incarcerated individual is another <a href="https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s10964-015-0318-9">often stressful experience</a> that also falls disproportionately on black citizens, particularly women.</p>
<h2>Some good news</h2>
<p>The good news is that such injustices are receiving growing attention nationwide. </p>
<p><a href="https://justcity.org/">Just City</a>, a nonprofit organization working to reduce the harms of the criminal justice system, <a href="https://justcity.kindful.com/mcbf/just-city">has campaigned</a> to raise funds and promote awareness of its <a href="https://justcity.org/what-we-do/#memphis-cbf">Memphis Community Bail Fund</a> project for Father’s Day – in part because nearly half a million of the black men behind bars <a href="http://www.pewtrusts.org/%7E/media/legacy/uploadedfiles/pcs_assets/2010/collateralcosts1pdf.pdf">are dads</a>. </p>
<p><a href="https://justcity.org/what-we-do/">The aim of the project</a> is to provide both financial and legal support for defendants lacking resources to independently secure their pretrial release, with <a href="https://justcity.kindful.com/mcbf/just-city">the goal of the campaign</a> being the release of jailed fathers so that they could be with their kids for the holiday.</p>
<p>Bail funds similar to Just City’s have <a href="https://nashvillebailfund.org">proliferated</a> <a href="https://www.detroitjustice.org/blog/2018/3/18/h3bjobbh3-were-launching-a-bail-fund-in-detroit-apply-to-be-a-full-time-bail-disruptor">throughout</a> the U.S.</p>
<p>On one hand, the multiplication of these organizations is encouraging and reason for optimism. On the other, their growth is another reminder that many of the freedoms celebrated on Juneteenth remain unrealized.</p>
<h2>A long road continues</h2>
<p>In cities like Detroit, <a href="http://www.pewtrusts.org/%7E/media/assets/2009/03/02/pspp_1in31_report_final_web_32609.pdf">where 1 in 7 adult males is under some form of correctional control in some communities</a>, it is a monumental task to make sense of the short- and long-term impacts of incarceration for black families. </p>
<p>Children suffer. Parents struggle. Relationships deteriorate. And as a result, so too do so many African-American communities. Lost wages matter to families, but they also matter to communities. The lower tax base that results makes it <a href="https://maketheroadny.org/pix_reports/Justice%20Reinvestment%20Final%20Report.pdf">more difficult</a> for struggling public institutions, like schools, to progress. And with such a large share of individuals removed from some communities due to incarceration, and <a href="https://www.nbcnews.com/politics/politics-news/states-rethink-prisoner-voting-rights-incarceration-rates-rise-n850406">branded as felons</a> upon their release, these communities lose potential voters and the political capital they carry. They are too often disenfranchised and stripped of their full power and potential.</p>
<p>Juneteenth celebrates the freedom of black Americans and the long, hard road they were forced to traverse to gain that freedom. But as criminologists like me have maintained time and again, the U.S. criminal justice system remains biased, albeit implicitly, against them.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/98530/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Matthew Larson 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>Just as with so many other criminal justice policies, pretrial detention disproportionately affects African-American men and women, destabilizing black families in the process.Matthew Larson, Assistant Professor of Criminal Justice, Wayne State UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/940022018-04-30T10:45:19Z2018-04-30T10:45:19ZBlack employees in the service industry pay an emotional tax at work<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/216761/original/file-20180429-135837-f3fq1t.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Starbucks workers in Seattle.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">AP Photo/Ted S. Warren, File</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>The arrests of two black men who were <a href="https://www.reuters.com/article/us-philadelphia-starbucks/starbucks-ceo-says-arrests-of-two-black-men-reprehensible-idUSKBN1HN2AL">waiting for a friend</a> at a Starbucks in Philadelphia last year raised questions about how race determines how customers are treated.</p>
<p>But does race also affect how the employees are treated within the service industry?</p>
<p>Prior research shows that black workers in people-oriented occupations – health care, service and sales – are <a href="http://amj.aom.org/content/53/2/238.short">rated lower</a> by customers and supervisors than are white workers, even when their performance is objectively the same. Because of this, black workers have a harder time obtaining competitive raises or promotions. But it is unclear why or what workers can do about it.</p>
<p>In the U.S. workforce, blacks are disproportionately represented in <a href="http://www.nbcnews.com/id/38168029/ns/business-careers/t/lowest-paying-jobs-america/#.WrmwjMPwbIU">low-paying</a> service jobs like cashiers, call center employees and food service workers compared to higher-status jobs. So this issue has serious implications for the financial and professional lives of a large segment of black workers.</p>
<h2>Race impacts perception of performance</h2>
<p>Friendliness is key to performing well in the service industry. My colleagues <a href="https://scholar.google.com/citations?user=w4HHMQwAAAAJ&hl=en&oi=ao">Lawrence Houston III</a>, <a href="https://scholar.google.com/citations?user=C8ZuPScAAAAJ&hl=en&oi=ao">Derek R. Avery</a> and <a href="https://scholar.google.com/citations?user=TYnFrXMAAAAJ&hl=en&oi=ao">I</a> found that negative stereotypes about blacks – that they are unfriendly, hostile or rude – explain lower performance evaluations of black service providers compared to white service providers.</p>
<p>We found that in order for the performance of black service providers to be rated equivalent to whites, blacks had to amplify and fake positive emotions to override those negative racial stereotypes. In other words, to be seen as good as white employees, black employees need to perform more “emotional labor,” a concept <a href="https://www.ucpress.edu/book.php?isbn=9780520272941">introduced by sociologist Arlie Hochschild</a>.</p>
<p>Perhaps just like the two men at Starbucks, black service employees are assumed to have hostile intentions unless they put in extra effort to put forth a smile and show they are not a threat.</p>
<h2>Across three studies</h2>
<p>We drew these conclusions from <a href="http://journals.sagepub.com/doi/full/10.1177/0149206318757019">a series of studies</a> we conducted over several years. </p>
<p>In our first study, we asked a representative sample of people for their impressions of an employee described as holding an emotional labor job, a hotel desk clerk. They saw a photo of either a black or white person with a neutral expression, but otherwise the same job qualifications. Regardless of the respondents’ own race, education or income, they saw the black employee as less friendly and more hostile than the white employee.</p>
<p>In the second study, people watched a video of either a black or a white sales clerk ringing up sales in a home goods shop. They saw the clerk acting either warm and friendly or just polite. In all videos the sales clerk was efficient and knowledgeable. </p>
<p>When viewers saw the employee performing less emotional labor – just being polite and efficient – the black employee was rated as less friendly and a worse performer than the white employee. In contrast, after watching the friendly condition, the viewers rated the black and white employees similarly. </p>
<p>In short, just being polite was not enough for the black employee; putting on a big smile was necessary to get the same performance ratings as the white employee.</p>
<p>Both of the above studies were experiments. In a third study, we surveyed actual service employees and their supervisors.</p>
<p>Again, we found that supervisors rated black grocery store clerks as worse performers than white clerks, which could not be explained by job experience or motivation. Yet, black clerks who reported amplifying and faking their positive emotions when interacting with customers – more emotional labor – saw the racial disparity in the performance evaluations disappear. </p>
<p>Notably, white clerks were rated highly regardless of the frequency of their emotional labor. For black clerks to be rated as highly as the white clerks, they had to more consistently exaggerate their smile in customer interactions.</p>
<h2>High cost of ‘service with a smile’</h2>
<p>All service employees must sometimes put on a fake smile when having an off day, and sometimes they might let the mask slip. Our research shows that white employees who do less emotional labor can still be viewed positively, but black employees are not given the benefit of the doubt. Black employees constantly “fake it to make it” in service jobs.</p>
<p>Being a black service provider requires routinely putting forth more emotional effort – a bigger smile, a more enthusiastic tone of voice, maintained across time and customers – to be evaluated similarly to a white co-worker. If a black employee gets tired of faking that smile, there is a resulting decline in performance evaluation. This also means fewer opportunities for promotions, raises and career advancement.</p>
<p>Though putting on a smile might seem like a small price to pay to get ahead at work, <a href="http://amj.aom.org/content/46/1/86.short">research shows</a> that keeping up a friendly façade is a path to job burnout, a state of complete exhaustion linked to a desire to quit and health issues. Recognizing this situation is a first step to improving conditions for black employees and customers alike.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/94002/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Alicia Grandey 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>Three studies found that customers and managers rate black employee performance lower than white employees because they’re perceived as unfriendly or rude.Alicia Grandey, Professor of Psychology, Penn StateLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/927952018-03-30T16:30:18Z2018-03-30T16:30:18ZMartin Luther King Jr. had a much more radical message than a dream of racial brotherhood<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/212711/original/file-20180329-189827-l3ylbh.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. addresses marchers during his 'I Have a Dream' speech at the Lincoln Memorial in Washington.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">AP Photo</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Martin Luther King Jr. has come to be revered as a hero who led a nonviolent struggle to reform and redeem the United States. His birthday is celebrated as a national holiday. Tributes are paid to him on his death anniversary each April, and his legacy is honored in multiple ways. </p>
<p>But from my perspective as a <a href="http://paulharvey.org/about">historian of religion and civil rights</a>, the true radicalism of his thought remains underappreciated. The “civil saint” portrayed nowadays was, by the end of his life, a social and economic radical, who argued forcefully for the necessity of economic justice in the pursuit of racial equality. </p>
<p>Three particular works from 1957 to 1967 illustrate how King’s political thought evolved from a hopeful reformer to a radical critic. </p>
<h2>King’s support for white moderates</h2>
<p>For much of the 1950s, King believed that white southern ministers could provide moral leadership. He thought the white racists of the South could be countered by the ministers who took a stand for equality. At the time, his concern with economic justice was a secondary theme in his addresses and political advocacy. </p>
<p><a href="http://okra.stanford.edu/transcription/document_images/Vol04Scans/184_1957_The%20Role%20of%20the%20Church.pdf">Speaking at Vanderbilt University in 1957</a>, he professed his belief that “there is in the white South more open-minded moderates than appears on the surface.” He urged them to lead the region through its necessary transition to equal treatment for black citizens. He reassured all that the aim of the movement was not to “defeat or humiliate the white man, but to win his friendship and understanding.”</p>
<p>King had hope for this vision. He had worked with white liberals such as <a href="https://kinginstitute.stanford.edu/king-papers/documents/myles-horton-1">Myles Horton</a>, the leader of a center in Tennessee for training labor and civil rights organizers. King had developed friendships and crucial alliances with white supporters in other parts of the country as well. His vision was for the fulfillment of basic American ideals of liberty and equality. </p>
<h2>Letter from Birmingham Jail</h2>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/212712/original/file-20180329-189830-1cycrcv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/212712/original/file-20180329-189830-1cycrcv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=407&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/212712/original/file-20180329-189830-1cycrcv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=407&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/212712/original/file-20180329-189830-1cycrcv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=407&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/212712/original/file-20180329-189830-1cycrcv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=512&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/212712/original/file-20180329-189830-1cycrcv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=512&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/212712/original/file-20180329-189830-1cycrcv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=512&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A handwritten copy of ‘Letter From a Birmingham Jail.’</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">AP Photo/Richard Drew, file</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>By the early 1960s, at the peak of the civil rights movement, King’s views had evolved significantly. In early 1963, King came to Birmingham to lead a campaign for civil rights in a city known for its history of racial violence. </p>
<p>During the Birmingham campaign, in April 1963, he issued a masterful public letter explaining the motivations behind his crusade. It stands in striking contrast with his hopeful 1957 sermon. </p>
<p>His “<a href="https://www.africa.upenn.edu/Articles_Gen/Letter_Birmingham.html">Letter From a Birmingham Jail</a>” responded to a newspaper advertisement from eight local clergymen urging King to allow the city government to enact gradual changes. </p>
<p>In a stark change from his earlier views, King devastatingly <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/retropolis/wp/2018/01/15/martin-luther-king-jr-s-scathing-critique-of-white-moderates-from-the-birmingham-jail/?utm_term=.21b80fcd96ad">targeted white moderates</a> willing to settle for “order” over justice. In an oppressive environment, the avoidance of conflict might appear to be “order,” but in fact supported the denial of basic citizenship rights, he noted.</p>
<p>“We merely bring to the surface the hidden tension that is already alive,” King wrote. He argued how oppressors never voluntarily gave up freedom to the oppressed – it always had to be demanded by “extremists for justice.” </p>
<p>He wrote how he was “gravely disappointed with the white moderate … who paternalistically believes he can set the timetable for another man’s freedom.” They were, he said, a greater enemy to racial justice than were members of the white supremacist groups such as the Ku Klux Klan and other white racist radicals. </p>
<h2>Call for economic justice</h2>
<p>By 1967, King’s philosophy emphasized economic justice as essential to equality. And he made clear connections between American violence abroad in Vietnam and American social inequality at home. </p>
<p>Exactly one year before his assassination in Memphis, King stood at one of the best-known pulpits in the nation, at <a href="https://www.trcnyc.org/history/">Riverside Church in New York</a>. There, he explained how he had come to connect the struggle for civil rights with the fight for economic justice and the early protests against the Vietnam War. </p>
<p><a href="http://kingencyclopedia.stanford.edu/encyclopedia/documentsentry/doc_beyond_vietnam/">He proclaimed:</a></p>
<blockquote>
<p>“Now it should be incandescently clear that no one who has any concern for the integrity and life of America today can ignore the present war. If America’s soul becomes totally poisoned, part of the autopsy must read ‘Vietnam.’ It can never be saved so long as it destroys the hopes of men the world over.”</p>
</blockquote>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/212710/original/file-20180329-189821-fwse6h.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/212710/original/file-20180329-189821-fwse6h.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=440&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/212710/original/file-20180329-189821-fwse6h.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=440&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/212710/original/file-20180329-189821-fwse6h.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=440&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/212710/original/file-20180329-189821-fwse6h.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=553&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/212710/original/file-20180329-189821-fwse6h.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=553&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/212710/original/file-20180329-189821-fwse6h.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=553&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">U.S. President Lyndon B. Johnson, right, talks with civil rights leaders at the White House in Washington, Jan. 18, 1964.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">AP Photo</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>He angered crucial allies. King and President Lyndon Johnson, for example, had been allies in achieving significant legislative victories in 1964 and 1965. Johnson’s “Great Society” launched a series of initiatives to address issues of poverty at home. But beginning in 1965, after the <a href="http://www.pbs.org/johngardner/chapters/4c.html">Johnson administration</a> increased the number of U.S. troops deployed in Vietnam, King’s vision grew radical. </p>
<p>King continued with a searching analysis of what linked poverty and violence both at home and abroad. While he had spoken out before about the effects of colonialism, he now made the connection unmistakably clear. He said: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>“I speak for those whose land is being laid waste, whose homes are being destroyed, whose culture is being subverted. I speak for the poor in America who are paying the double price of smashed hopes at home, and death and corruption in Vietnam.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>King concluded with the famous words on <a href="https://www.carnegiefoundation.org/blog/the-fierce-urgency-of-now/">“the fierce urgency of now,”</a> by which he emphasized the immediacy of the connection between economic injustice and racial inequality. </p>
<h2>The radical King</h2>
<p>King’s <a href="https://www.archives.gov/files/press/exhibits/dream-speech.pdf">“I Have a Dream,”</a> speech at the March on Washington in August 1963 serves as the touchstone for the annual King holiday. But King’s dream ultimately evolved into a call for a fundamental redistribution of economic power and resources. It’s why he was in Memphis, <a href="http://kingencyclopedia.stanford.edu/encyclopedia/encyclopedia/enc_memphis_sanitation_workers_strike_1968/">supporting a strike by garbage workers</a>, when he was assassinated in April 1968. </p>
<p>He remained, to the end, the <a href="http://kingencyclopedia.stanford.edu/encyclopedia/encyclopedia/enc_nonviolent_resistance/">prophet of nonviolent resistance</a>. But these three key moments in King’s life show his evolution over a decade. </p>
<p>This remembering matters more than ever today. Many states are either passing or considering measures that would make it <a href="https://blog.oup.com/2016/12/religion-second-redemption">harder for many Americans</a> to exercise their fundamental right to vote. It would roll back the huge gains in rates of political participation by racial minorities made possible by the Voting Rights Act of 1965. At the same time, there is a <a href="https://www.americanprogress.org/issues/race/reports/2018/02/21/447051/systematic-inequality/">persistent wealth gap</a> between blacks and whites.</p>
<p>Only sustained government attention can address these issues – the point King was stressing later in his life.</p>
<p>King’s philosophy stood not just for “opportunity,” but for positive measures toward economic equality and political power. Ignoring this understanding betrays the “dream” that is ritually invoked each year.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/92795/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Paul Harvey 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>King Jr., remembered today mainly for his non violent resistance, was a radical reformer who called for a fundamental redistribution of economic power and resources .Paul Harvey, Professor of American History, University of Colorado Colorado SpringsLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/773672018-02-07T11:28:05Z2018-02-07T11:28:05ZSuicide isn’t just a ‘white people thing’<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/204328/original/file-20180131-157495-x84g93.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Research suggests that suicides by racial and ethnic minorities are undercounted. </span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/africanamerican-veteran-sitting-cemetery-los-angles-177027794?src=z6Az1NAzH8xMdm2FByv9yw-1-0">Joseph Sohm/shutterstock.com</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>As a sociologist and criminologist, I often do community outreach on mental health prevention. I urge organizations and programs to avoid “one size fits all” approaches. There are many ways that mental health issues can impact individuals, depending upon race and ethnicity, gender identity, sexual identity, religion and more.</p>
<p>But I have found mental health conditions and suicide are often still considered a “white people’s problem.” When I speak with African-Americans and non-white Hispanics – groups that are often overlooked by the mental health community – I’m often asked why I’m “wasting time” addressing race, ethnicity and other cultural variations. </p>
<p>In some ways, this is not surprising. Whites make up <a href="https://www.census.gov/quickfacts/fact/table/US/PST045216">more than 70 percent of the total U.S. population</a> and have the <a href="https://ucr.fbi.gov/crime-in-the-u.s/2012/crime-in-the-u.s.-2012/tables/43tabledatadecoverviewpdf">highest rate of suicide</a> relative to population size.</p>
<p>In the African-American community, there’s a tendency to label suicide and mental health conditions as <a href="https://www.nami.org/Blogs/NAMI-Blog/July-2017/You-Can-t-Pray-Away%E2%80%9D-a-Mental-Health-Condition">“crazy” or evidence that you aren’t praying enough.</a> People in this culture, as well as Hispanic, Asian and American Indian communities, are less likely to acknowledge the possibility of having a health condition or seek mental health services. Or, as some commentators and academics have said, suicide is seen as a “<a href="http://doi.org/10.1177/0095798406290552">white thing</a>” – “<a href="https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2015/jul/28/not-white-thing-suicide-african-americans">African-Americans don’t ‘do’ suicide</a>.”</p>
<p>Unfortunately, despite the existence of culturally specific support systems, many cultures still experience silence and shame around mental health issues. This is reflected in the care that’s provided as well. Based on false assumptions, many health professionals and health services end up, intentionally or unintentionally, catering to predominantly white consumers. </p>
<h2>Counting errors</h2>
<p>The problem is partly due to data.</p>
<p>Whites have a suicide rate of <a href="https://www.sprc.org/racial-ethnic-disparities">18.5 per 100,000 people</a>, leading to the <a href="https://www.cdc.gov/nchs/data/nvsr/nvsr65/nvsr65_04.pdf">highest total number of suicides</a> for any racial or ethnic group in the U.S. Whites also comprise the majority of membership in suicide prevention organizations and have greater access to resources needed to seek out <a href="http://doi.org/10.1377/hlthaff.27.2.393">mental health services</a>. </p>
<p>Meanwhile, African-Americans make up about 12 to 13 percent of the U.S. population and are <a href="https://doi.org/10.1186/1471-244X-10-35">underrepresented in suicide data</a>. Data suggest that African-Americans have approximately 6 percent of the recorded rate of suicide compared to whites. But this data is likely incomplete – thanks to deaths that have been misclassified. </p>
<p>African-American, Hispanic and American Indian suicides have historically been <a href="https://doi.org/10.1016/j.socscimed.2006.05.017">more misclassified</a> than white suicide – and still are to this day. <a href="https://www.cdc.gov/nchs/data/hestat/suicide/rates_1999_2014.pdf">No one knows</a> which specific deaths have been misclassified. However, researchers believe that these errors can be largely attributed to either the coroner’s misclassification of cause of death as homicide or undetermined or the family’s desire not to record the accurate cause of death. That leaves data at the local, state and national level incomplete. </p>
<p>Over the last 40 years, there has been <a href="https://doi.org/http://dx.doi.org/10.1001/archgenpsychiatry.2011.66">slight decline</a> in the number of suicides misclassified as <a href="https://doi.org/10.1016/j.socscimed.2006.05.017">undetermined or unintentional</a>, although this trend varies by demographics and cultures. </p>
<p>There’s no clear reason why the cause of death is becoming more accurately classified. Possible causes include more research on misclassification; better record keeping by law enforcement and coroners; and family awareness of cause of death. </p>
<h2>Failing to seek help</h2>
<p>Societal attitudes towards African-American men may also partly explain why suicide data is incomplete. </p>
<p>When criminologists talk about <a href="http://www.children.gov.on.ca/htdocs/English/professionals/oyap/roots/volume5/chapter09_subculture_violence.aspx">violence</a>, we often focus on how demographic factors such as race and ethnicity, socioeconomic status and gender apply to outward violence, or violence toward other people. But I believe that we should also talk about how these factors influence inward violence, or violence toward oneself. </p>
<p>The number one recorded cause of death for African-American males between the ages of 15 and 34 is <a href="https://www.cdc.gov/healthequity/lcod/men/2011/LCODBlackmales2011.pdf">homicide</a>. But are these deaths often characterized by law enforcement, coroners and family as accidental or homicidal when, in fact, the individual wanted or expected to die? </p>
<p>African-American masculinity is arguably more confined than white masculinity. African-American boys and men are even more likely to be labeled “weak” and “not a real man” when <a href="https://doi.org/10.1111/ajop.12015">in need of help</a>. In the “<a href="http://books.wwnorton.com/books/Code-of-the-Street/">code of the street</a>” described by sociologist Elijah Anderson, African-American boys and men must learn to hide weakness and appear strong and resilient.</p>
<p>Society tends to view <a href="https://journals.auctr.edu/index.php/challenge/article/view/151">African-American men</a> as heteromasculine, unemotional and aggressive. As boys and as men, they are taught to never admit <a href="http://www.cjhp.org/Volume4_2006/Issue3/187-197-watkins.pdf">mental or physical pain</a>.</p>
<p>Research shows that some African-American boys and men do not expect to live long. They grow accustomed to hiding their feelings, <a href="https://apa.org/pi/about/newsletter/2015/11/black-males-cry.aspx">expressing negative emotions through violence</a>. This can lead them to enter harmful, dangerous environments with the anticipation that it could lead to death. </p>
<h2>Expanding our definition</h2>
<p>The false sense that “suicide is a white people thing” has created and perpetuated a problematic cycle. </p>
<p>Suicide and suicidal self-harm among <a href="https://www.cdc.gov/violenceprevention/pdf/suicide-datasheet-a.pdf">American Indians and Alaskan Natives</a> is an example of this. In 2015, American Indians and Alaskan Natives had the highest suicide rate of any race or ethnicity: 21.39 suicides per 100,000 people, while representing <a href="http://www.ncai.org/about-tribes/demographics">approximately 3 percent of the total U.S. population</a>.</p>
<p>American Indians and Alaskan Natives tend to suffer from <a href="https://www.samhsa.gov/capt/sites/default/files/resources/suicide-ethnic-populations.pdf">feelings of alienation</a> and have <a href="https://www.cbpp.org/blog/improving-health-care-access-for-american-indians-and-alaska-natives">less access to health services</a>. This contributes to <a href="https://pubs.niaaa.nih.gov/publications/arh22-4/253.pdf">alcoholism</a> and <a href="https://www.nihb.org/docs/09182017/Opioids%20One%20pager.PDF">opioid addiction</a>, as well as suicide and suicidal self-harm.</p>
<p>Cultural factors mean American Indians and Alaskan natives are less likely to recognize health issues and seek health services. In turn, the majority of health services are not designed for this minority group or any minority group.</p>
<p>There are mental health <a href="https://nonprofitquarterly.org/2017/10/31/american-indian-nations-respond-opioid-epidemic-communities/">organizations</a> and <a href="https://www.nbcnews.com/pop-culture/music/hip-hop-works-break-down-mental-health-stigma-black-men-n819461">programs</a> specifically designed to reach underserved groups. But all mental health and suicide organizations need to capture these cultural differences in their services. </p>
<p>Race and ethnicity – and other demographic and cultural factors – are often seen as merely a subtopic, reserved for special occasions or <a href="http://www.apa.org/news/press/releases/2015/04/mental-health-awareness.aspx">particular times of the year</a>, such as <a href="https://www.nami.org/Get-Involved/Awareness-Events/Minority-Mental-Health-Awareness-Month">Minority Mental Health Awareness Month</a>. As these identities are so important in shaping our beliefs and experiences, I believe that they cannot be left as merely a side topic for one or two days out of the year. </p>
<p>Schools and programs that train mental health professionals should rethink their courses. Mainstream mental health and suicide prevention organizations should rethink their delivery of care. Conduct annual assessments of the demographics represented at all events. Find practical ways to use funding and resources to reach demographically and cultural diverse populations. </p>
<p>It’s important to challenge mainstream organizations that provide health services, rather than just creating organizations and programs focused on minorities. This is a form of segregation. Health segregation allows mainstream health organizations to pretend health is culturally neutral and that services are “one size fits all.” I believe it’s important to change the structure of mainstream health organizations so we can reach all cultures and communities.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/77367/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Dr. Kimya Nuru Dennis 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>Many cultures still experience silence and shame around mental health issues. But that doesn’t mean they don’t need help.Dr. Kimya Nuru Dennis, Associate Professor of Sociology and Criminal Studies; Creator and Coordinator of Criminal Studies Program, Salem CollegeLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/900932018-02-01T11:40:36Z2018-02-01T11:40:36ZWhy I teach a course called ‘White Racism’<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/204346/original/file-20180201-157485-ptxtjt.PNG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Florida Gulf Coast University professor Ted Thornhill discusses his course on 'White Racism.'</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Aaron Nunes-Zaller</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span></figcaption></figure><p><strong>This article was published on Feb. 1, 2018. Prof. Thornhill now teaches at Western Washington University.</strong></p>
<p>The need for students to learn about racism in American society existed long before I began teaching a course called “White Racism” at Florida Gulf Coast University earlier this year.</p>
<p>I chose to title my course <a href="https://gulfline.fgcu.edu/pls/fgpo/szkschd.p_showdetail?termcode=201801&crn=12999">“White Racism”</a> because I thought it was scholarly and succinct, precise and powerful. </p>
<p>But others saw it differently. Many white Americans (and some people of color) <a href="https://townhall.com/columnists/toddstarnes/2018/01/10/universitys-white-racism-course-sounds-like-blame-the-white-guy-101-n2432697">became upset</a> when they learned about this course. </p>
<p>Thousands took to social media and far right <a href="http://www.foxnews.com/us/2017/11/28/white-racism-course-at-florida-university-teaches-that-america-is-white-supremacist-society.html">news sites</a> and racist blogs to <a href="https://saboteur365.wordpress.com/2017/11/10/black-professors-course-on-white-racism-creating-controversy/">attack the course and me personally</a>.</p>
<p>Some 150 of these individuals sent me hateful and threatening <a href="http://time.com/5098776/white-racism-class-fgcu/">messages</a>. </p>
<p>It might be tempting to blame the hostility to my course on the current political climate in which the president of the United States routinely makes overtly <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2018/01/15/opinion/leonhardt-trump-racist.html">racist statements</a> and receives some of his strongest <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/post-nation/wp/2017/08/13/one-group-loved-trumps-remarks-about-charlottesville-white-supremacists/?utm_term=.22ce6984fc2c">support</a> from members of white racist hate groups. But I cannot recall a time when scholarly critiques of white supremacy in the United States have not been met with scorn. </p>
<p>For instance, an identically titled <a href="https://catalog.uconn.edu/soci/">course</a> taught at the University of Connecticut also <a href="http://articles.courant.com/1996-11-19/news/9611190253_1_race-and-racism-white-racism-sociology">ignited controversy</a> when it made its debut in the 1990s.</p>
<h2>‘White racism’ is nothing new</h2>
<p>Whether a course is titled <a href="http://www.newsweek.com/tackling-whiteness-college-campuses-725212">“White Racism,”</a>or <a href="https://african.wisc.edu/content/problem-whiteness">“The Problem of Whiteness,”</a> or any other appropriate term, in no way diminishes the academic legitimacy of the course. <a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=jcijJkoD6AoC&printsec=frontcover&dq=inauthor:%22Joe+R.+Feagin%22&hl=en&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwiW6Z3klfzYAhURzlMKHUrTAcEQ6AEIPzAE#v=onepage&q&f=false">Scholars</a>
have used the term for decades.</p>
<p>I’ve taught courses on racial stratification in the U.S. for nearly a <a href="https://fgcu.academia.edu/TedThornhill/CurriculumVitae">decade</a> myself. The course, and others like it, are all anchored in a damning body of historical and contemporary <a href="https://www.routledge.com/Racist-America-Roots-Current-Realities-and-Future-Reparations-3rd-Edition/Feagin/p/book/9780415704014">scholarship</a>. That scholarship shows that Europeans and their white descendants colonized what would become the United States as well as other places around the <a href="https://books.google.com/books?hl=en&lr=&id=sTzRKLqcmbUC&oi=fnd&pg=PA35&dq=global+white+supremacy+book&ots=4zWYKnx6vh&sig=G5NE-R0kBZDjvtudKsoN3FtKjek#v=onepage&q&f=false">globe</a>. They practiced all manner of inhumanity against non-whites. This has included <a href="https://yalebooks.yale.edu/book/9780300181364/american-genocide">genocide</a>, <a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/17700/17700-h/17700-h.htm">slavery</a>, murder, <a href="https://rowman.com/ISBN/9781442230286/Jim-Crow's-Legacy-The-Lasting-Impact-of-Segregation">rape</a>, torture, theft, <a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2014/06/the-case-for-reparations/361631/">chicanery</a>, <a href="http://books.wwnorton.com/books/The-Color-of-Law/">segregation</a>, discrimination, intimidation, <a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/photo/2011/08/world-war-ii-internment-of-japanese-americans/100132/">internment</a>, humiliation and marginalization. This is inarguable.</p>
<figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/204055/original/file-20180130-107687-t4ua3z.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/204055/original/file-20180130-107687-t4ua3z.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=902&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/204055/original/file-20180130-107687-t4ua3z.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=902&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/204055/original/file-20180130-107687-t4ua3z.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=902&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/204055/original/file-20180130-107687-t4ua3z.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1134&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/204055/original/file-20180130-107687-t4ua3z.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1134&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/204055/original/file-20180130-107687-t4ua3z.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1134&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Young male students protest school integration in Birmingham, Alabama, in 1963.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="http://www.apimages.com/metadata/Index/Watchf-AP-A-AL-USA-APHS268312-African-American-/e7382a8b2ba748c8a073f188913d5af3/4/0">AP</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Most Americans may have a general awareness of <a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/17700/17700-h/17700-h.htm">the trans-Atlantic slave trade</a>, <a href="http://books.wwnorton.com/books/webad.aspx?id=10235">Jim Crow laws</a>, <a href="http://store.doverpublications.com/0486779998.html">lynchings</a>, housing and labor market discrimination, and <a href="https://www.vox.com/michael-brown-shooting-ferguson-mo/2014/8/19/6031759/ferguson-history-riots-police-brutality-civil-rights">police brutality</a>. Where we differ is about the gravity and scope of these white racist practices and the extent to which their effects continue to this day.</p>
<p>This disagreement is due in large part to many white Americans (and more than a few folks of color) subscribing to what <a href="https://www.academia.edu/7934256/_If_People_Stopped_Talking_about_Race_It_Wouldnt_be_a_Problem_Anymore_Silencing_the_Myth_of_a_Color-Blind_Society">I</a> and <a href="https://www.ucpress.edu/ebook.php?isbn=9780520938755">others</a> refer to as the myth of a colorblind society.</p>
<p>This myth holds that the United States is a “post-racial” society where race is no longer related to individuals’ life chances. Some buy into this myth to the point where it prevents them from recognizing the everyday realities that show the United States is <a href="http://www.sup.org/books/title/?id=20253">white supremacist in nature</a>.</p>
<p>But the myth of a colorblind society crumbles underneath a substantial body of social science research that documents how race still matters in numerous areas of American life. For instance, the evidence shows that race still matters in the <a href="https://scholar.harvard.edu/files/pager/files/pager_ajs.pdf">labor market</a> and <a href="http://journals.sagepub.com/doi/abs/10.1177/0002764211433805">workplace</a>, <a href="https://global.oup.com/academic/product/despite-the-best-intentions-9780195342727?cc=us&lang=en&#">education</a>, and even in access to <a href="http://www.michigan.gov/documents/mdcr/VFlintCrisisRep-F-Edited3-13-17_554317_7.pdf">clean water</a>. Race matters in <a href="https://www.nap.edu/read/12875/chapter/1">health care</a>, <a href="https://thenewpress.com/books/chokehold">the criminal justice system</a>, and even everyday <a href="http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/j.1559-1816.2009.00489.x/full">retail</a> and <a href="http://journals.sagepub.com/doi/abs/10.1177/0010880403260105">dining</a> experiences.</p>
<p>Still, many refuse to believe that racism persists. They point to the civil rights legislation of the 1960s or, more recently, the election of Barack Obama as the 44th president of the United States, as <a href="https://www.routledge.com/Yes-We-Can-White-Racial-Framing-and-the-Obama-Presidency-2nd-Edition/Harvey-Wingfield-Feagin/p/book/9780415645386">evidence</a> of the <a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=QNV3XwST4WIC&printsec=frontcover&source=gbs_ge_summary_r&cad=0#v=onepage&q&f=false">“end of racism”</a> or at least the <a href="http://press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/D/bo13375516.html">“declining significance of race.”</a></p>
<p>Some might suggest that it would be easier to talk about white racism if it were done in less inflammatory or offensive ways. Perhaps this delicate approach — one that takes into account what author Robin DiAngelo refers to in her <a href="https://books.google.com/books/about/White_Fragility.html?id=ZfQ3DwAAQBAJ&source=kp_cover">forthcoming book</a> as “<a href="http://libjournal.uncg.edu/ijcp/article/view/249">white fragility</a>” — might be desirable or necessary for those who are fearful of the consequences of speaking unvarnished truth on racial matters. But when it comes to professors who deal with racial stratification, we should not be whitewashing reality.</p>
<h2>Can there be ‘black racism’?</h2>
<p>The most common complaint about my course that I’ve encountered thus far is that anybody can be racist. They ask indignantly: What about “black racism”? Or what about other forms of racism they <a href="http://journals.sagepub.com/doi/abs/10.1177/1745691611406922">believe</a> exist on the part of Latinos, Asian Americans and Native peoples. My answer is: There is no such thing as <a href="https://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/reverse-racism-isnt-a-thing_us_55d60a91e4b07addcb45da97">black racism.</a> </p>
<p>I am in no way the only one who holds this view. As <a href="https://sociology.duke.edu/people/eduardo-bonilla-silva">Eduardo Bonilla-Silva</a>, president of the American Sociological Association, <a href="http://news.wgcu.org/post/white-racism-textbook-author-speaks-fgcu-0">said here at FGCU recently</a> when asked if it would be fair to have classes such as “Asian Racism” or “Latino Racism”: “We can all be prejudiced, yeah? So, black people can be anti-white, but there is a big difference between having prejudiced views about other people and having a system that gives systemic privilege to some groups.” </p>
<p>Indeed, blacks did not develop and benefit from a centuries-old comprehensive system of racial oppression comprised of laws, policies, practices, traditions and an accompanying ideology — one that promotes the biological, intellectual and cultural superiority of whites to dominate other groups. Europeans and their white descendants, however, did. This is <a href="https://www.routledge.com/Systemic-Racism-A-Theory-of-Oppression/Feagin/p/book/9780415952781">systemic racism</a>. And students in courses such as mine are introduced to the scholarship that attests to this reality, past and present.</p>
<p>For instance, students will read and discuss pieces by and about <a href="http://www.simonandschuster.com/books/Black-Reconstruction-in-America-1860-1880/David-Levering-Lewis/9780684856575">W.E.B. Du Bois</a>, <a href="https://rowman.com/ISBN/9781442276222/Racism-without-Racists-Color-Blind-Racism-and-the-Persistence-of-Racial-Inequality-in-America-Fifth-Edition">Eduardo Bonilla-Silva</a>, <a href="https://www.routledge.com/Racist-America-Roots-Current-Realities-and-Future-Reparations-3rd-Edition/Feagin/p/book/9780415704014">Joe Feagin</a>, <a href="http://www.law.columbia.edu/faculty/kimberle-crenshaw">Kimberlé Crenshaw</a>, <a href="https://www.scholars.northwestern.edu/en/publications/racial-exploitation-and-the-wages-of-whiteness">Charles Mills</a>, <a href="https://thenewpress.com/books/chokehold">Paul Butler</a>, <a href="https://www.nikkikhanna.com/">Nikki Khanna</a>, and <a href="https://nyupress.org/books/9780814719701/">Derrick Bell</a>, among many others. They will also do work that will strengthen their ability to identify and confront <a href="https://rowman.com/ISBN/9781442276222/Racism-without-Racists-Color-Blind-Racism-and-the-Persistence-of-Racial-Inequality-in-America-Fifth-Edition">colorblind racist statements</a>.</p>
<h2>Public money for a public problem</h2>
<p>Some detractors of my course have suggested that students stand a better shot at getting a good grade in my course if their racial politics align with my own. This is nonsense. If a student finds peer-reviewed empirical evidence counter to that covered in the course, I would welcome the opportunity to review it.</p>
<p>Agreeing with my take on racial matters doesn’t impact a student’s grade. Whether a student earns an “A” in any of my courses is entirely dependent on the quality of the work they produce.</p>
<p>Another criticism I’ve heard is that I am teaching a course titled “White Racism” at a public university at taxpayer expense. Not only should my course and others like it be taught at public colleges and universities, they must be taught at such institutions. </p>
<p>Florida Gulf Coast University President Michael Martin has strongly and publicly supported my academic freedom to teach my “White Racism” course.</p>
<p>“Reviewing the course content is much more instructive than passing judgment based on a two-word title,” he said in a <a href="http://mediad.publicbroadcasting.net/p/wgcu/files/201801/statement_re_white_racism__11-29-17_from_president_martin.pdf">statement</a>. “At FGCU, as at all great universities, we teach our students critical thinking skills by challenging them to think independently and critically about important, even if controversial, issues of our times.”</p>
<p>Indeed, white supremacy and white racism remain terrible and intractable features of American society. It is in the public interest that students be provided with not only an opportunity to learn about the origin, logic and consequences of white racial domination but also how to challenge and dismantle it. The public university classroom is among the best places for this to occur.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/90093/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Ted Thornhill is affiliated with the American Sociological Association and the Midwest Sociological Society. </span></em></p>Controversy ignited when a Florida Gulf Coast University professor began teaching a ‘white racism’ course this year. Ted Thornhill says his course is rooted in a ‘damning body’ of evidence.Ted Thornhill, Assistant Professor, Florida Gulf Coast UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/869022017-12-07T19:18:10Z2017-12-07T19:18:10ZCan Atlanta’s new mayor revive America’s ‘black mecca’?<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/198212/original/file-20171207-11325-hmznti.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Keisha Lance Bottoms.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">AP Photo/John Bazemore</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>The Atlanta mayoral showdown between Keisha Lance Bottoms and Mary Norwood was a political battle 30 years in the making.</p>
<p>Atlanta was poised to elect its first white mayor in decades. However, Bottoms, who is black, claimed a <a href="http://www.myajc.com/news/local-govt--politics/recount-unlikely-favor-norwood-atlanta-mayor-race/deIcq2TERof8fpeXJVkueK/">narrow victory</a> with a few hundred votes more than her opponent. Norwood, who is white, has called for a recount that is unlikely to alter the results.</p>
<p>The election demonstrated the complicated nature of race, class and gender in southern politics. The world has watched Atlanta – the “Black Mecca” – emerge as the vanguard for political inclusion through black electoral politics. Yet, tensions have <a href="http://www.atlantamagazine.com/great-reads/marta-tsplost-transportation/">long simmered</a> just below the surface of the so-called City Too Busy to Hate, as I write in my book, “<a href="https://www.uncpress.org/book/9781469635354/the-legend-of-the-black-mecca">The Legend of the Black Mecca</a>.” Atlanta’s pomp and circumstance of the “Black Mecca” is in jeopardy.</p>
<p>Will keeping Atlanta’s executive leader black help resolve these tensions?</p>
<h2>The black new South</h2>
<p>It has been 44 years since <a href="https://saportareport.com/lets-salute-maynard-jackson-40-years-after-becoming-atlantas-mayor-changing-citys-history/">Maynard Jackson Jr.</a> became the first black mayor of Atlanta. And yet, by and large, Atlanta’s working and poorer classes have suffered as the city has risen to global prominence.</p>
<p>The 1980s dealt a deafening blow when President Ronald Reagan <a href="https://www.thenation.com/article/reagans-real-legacy/">cut federal funding</a> to American cities. During that time period, Atlanta’s mayors had no choice but to expand the city through developments made by international investors with profit in mind, but no interest in helping the city’s poor. For example, by the 1980s, Atlanta had the second-highest poverty rate in the country, a large homeless population, a high high school dropout rate along with a drug crisis and a recession. As I explain in my book, Atlanta was also one of the <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/1989/12/14/us/drugs-in-atlanta-a-lost-generation.html">top-ranked cities</a> in the country for incidence of violent crimes. </p>
<p>In 1987, Atlanta’s white business community and the black city government started a bid to host the Centennial Olympic Games. In the bidding process, they promoted the city to the world but did little for Atlanta’s natives. Since then, as I see it, Atlanta’s black leadership has been compromised. </p>
<p>The city’s white business elite saw the Olympic bid as a means to recapture Atlanta’s urban center from blight, triggered by white flight of prior generations. They constructed the <a href="http://www.1ac.com/thelocation.php">Atlantic Center</a>, a master-planned, multiphase office complex with 3 million square feet of premium office space. They also created the <a href="http://www.ajc.com/news/local/red-dog-disbanded/YX52PfLGA4pDORgnbcgJCK/">Red Dogs</a>, a military-style police outfit, an aggressive police force in black neighborhoods with high occurrence of drug sales and use as well as violent drug-related crimes. In just seven months after its founding, the Red Dogs were responsible for 721 felony arrests.</p>
<p>During this time, white money transcended black political power. Black politicians became pawns between the city’s white business, black middle classes and poor, and international Olympic delegations.</p>
<h2>Atlanta anticipated</h2>
<p>As I explain in my book, the popular political sentiment of the black masses is one of distrust and resentment toward leadership. They believe black leaders pursued policies that benefited white and black elites to the exclusion of the vast majority of black citizens who had brought them to power. </p>
<p>Take housing, for example. From 1974 to 1984, funding for the city’s public housing was slashed by 74 percent. So, Atlanta’s leadership demolished much of it, displacing thousands. The city is now 30 years into a 40-year plan to take back downtown real estate and set housing at market prices – making it unaffordable to working Atlantans who don’t have generational wealth.</p>
<p>I am disheartened by my generation’s negligence. As of Dec. 5, 2017, 640,861 voters <a href="https://www.atlantaga.gov/government/2017-city-of-atlanta-general-election/2017-election-results">were registered</a> in Atlanta’s Fulton County and DeKalb County districts. Only 92,169 voters cast ballots for the mayoral race. For black Gen Xers, this mayoral race demonstrates how negligent we are in understanding history. Our parents bore witness to disenfranchisement and second-class citizenship until the mid-1960s, only for us – the black electorate of Atlanta – to became idolaters of power and popularity, splitting the black vote and forgetting to perform politically.</p>
<p>Narrowly, black Atlantans delivered this election for Bottoms. The vote was divided by race. Maps show that Bottoms’s victory came from <a href="https://atlanta.curbed.com/2014/6/2/10092862/how-segregated-is-atlanta">predominantly black</a> neighborhoods of Atlanta’s west, southwest, south, southeast and east sides. Norwood carried neighborhoods in the predominantly white northern half of the city. Strikingly, the numbers indicate <a href="http://www.myajc.com/news/atlanta-mayoral-runoff-election-2017-precinct-results-map/nnKzoJYBcvkd4E5Hit38CM/">poor voter turnout</a> for both candidates. What does this mean for the future of a city branded as “the City Too Busy to Hate,” “The Black Mecca” and “Hotlanta”?</p>
<p>Let’s be clear: Atlanta is liberated territory for black, brown and other communities on the fringes. Yet, it may be too much to ask our city to live up to all of its competing images. Journalist John Helyar once wrote, “If New York is the Big Apple and New Orleans is the Big Easy, Atlanta is the Big Hustle.” Perhaps Atlanta can focus inwardly – recalibrating virtue and merit – casting aside its conniving spirit.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/86902/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Maurice J. Hobson 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>The city’s image as a model for black mobility and civil rights is crumbling. An expert on race and class politics takes us behind the veneer of one of the South’s most important cities.Maurice J. Hobson, Assistant Professor of African-American Studies, Georgia State UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/869702017-11-09T04:00:31Z2017-11-09T04:00:31ZCould Atlanta be on track to elect a white mayor?<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/193866/original/file-20171109-14167-2b7kxo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Atlanta mayoral candidates Keisha Lance Bottoms (left) and Mary Norwood will face off in December.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">AP Photo/David Goldman</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>On Nov. 7, none of the 12 candidates for mayor of Atlanta received more than 50 percent of the vote.</p>
<p>That means the two candidates with the most votes, Councilwomen Keisha Lance Bottoms and Mary Norwood, will face off in a Dec. 5 runoff. Lance Bottoms is black. Norwood is white.</p>
<p>Could 2017 be the year that Atlanta elects its first white mayor in more than a generation?</p>
<p>Going into the runoff, I anticipate that the African-American candidate, Councilwoman Lance Bottoms, has the advantage. She won the most votes on the first ballot, and black voters are still a force to be reckoned with in this city. Still, the race demonstrates the ways that changing urban demographics can alter the contours of political competition within historically black cities.</p>
<p>As majority black cities welcome increasing numbers of new, nonblack residents into their city limits, the probability that nonblacks will run for and win top leadership posts increases. However, it is important to realize that even under these conditions, African-Americans can and do win elections in jurisdictions where blacks comprise less than a majority of the population. </p>
<h2>Race to the runoff</h2>
<p>Until early October, polls showed that Mary Norwood had an early, consistent lead in a crowded field. Norwood is no stranger to Atlanta mayoral races. In 2009, she came within <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2009/12/10/us/10atlanta.html">714 votes</a> of beating now-incumbent Mayor Kasim Reed in a runoff.</p>
<p>In addition to Norwood, reporters were also following the trajectory of Peter Aman, the city’s former chief operating officer, who is also white. Aman emerged from obscurity in the early polls to become a contender, leading some to speculate that it was quite possible that two white candidates could emerge from the original slate to challenge each other in a runoff. </p>
<p>That didn’t happen. Norwood won second place. Aman finished a respectable fourth – after Cathy Woolard, the former city council president, who is also white. The strong performances by these candidates, who represent a range of ideological perspectives and have different bases of support, suggest that white candidates are viable in this city which once boasted a supermajority black population. </p>
<p>For years, African-Americans in Atlanta leveraged the concentration of blacks in the city – in part due to white flight – to become key players in city politics. The city’s black majority population has elected black mayors for more than four decades. However, the city’s black population has been shrinking for a generation. Whereas blacks comprised <a href="https://www.census.gov/population/www/documentation/twps0076/twps0076.pdf">two-thirds of the city’s population in 1990</a>, that number dropped to 54 percent by the <a href="https://factfinder.census.gov/faces/tableservices/jsf/pages/productview.xhtml?src=CF">2010 census</a>. Given the amount of development and gentrification going on the city today that is pricing older, poorer black residents out of the city, it is probable that the 2020 census will reveal an even smaller black population. As the population shifts, it is reasonable to assume that nonblack candidates will emerge as viable candidates for high-profile offices that blacks have held for nearly two generations.</p>
<h2>Don’t count black politicians out yet</h2>
<p>Despite Atlanta’s shrinking black population, African-American voters remain an important, influential voting bloc. While the performance of candidates Norwood, Woolard and Aman is notable, we must also remember that Councilwoman Lance Bottoms qualified for the runoff in first place. She benefited from the endorsement of outgoing Mayor Reed. Public polling also suggests that she had started to <a href="https://twitter.com/wsbtv/status/926573560822452225/photo/1?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw&ref_url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.wsbtv.com%2Fnews%2Flocal%2Fatlanta-mayoral-race-new-poll-shows-shakeup-at-top%2F638346105">consolidate the African-American vote</a>, while Norwood, who was polling as high as about 20 percent among blacks <a href="https://media-beta.wsbtv.com/document_dev/2017/03/10/Atl%20Poll%20March%208th%20_7504877_ver1.0.pdf">in the spring</a>, started <a href="https://media-beta.wsbtv.com/document_dev/2017/08/29/Landmark%20Communications%2C%20Inc.%2C%20Poll%202%20City%20of%20Atlanta%20Mayor%20%20election_8997146_ver1.0.pdf">to lose black support</a>.</p>
<p>As we turn to the runoff, we should remember a few things. </p>
<p>First, we should seek to understand how demography matters in elections. As my colleagues Michael Leo Owens and Jacob Brown showed in a <a href="http://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1111/juaf.12067">paper about the 2009 Atlanta mayoral election</a>, racially polarized voting is a real phenomenon in Atlanta politics and should not be ignored. However, demography is not destiny in the ways that we think it is. </p>
<p>For starters, just because Atlanta’s black population is shrinking does not mean that black candidates cannot win office. As the 2014 election of Mayor Muriel Bowser in Washington, D.C. demonstrates, black candidates can still win office in larger cities even when their population falls below 50 percent. And one cannot discount the ability for black candidates to even win election in cities with few to no black residents. For instance, Wilmot Collins made history on Nov. 7 by being elected the first black mayor of Helena, Montana. He follows in the tradition of politicians like Wellington Webb of Denver and Norm Rice of Seattle, who, in 1989, became the first black mayors in majority white cities.</p>
<p>We often forget this, but in 1970 the Census Bureau estimated Atlanta’s black population to be only 51 percent. Three years later, Maynard Jackson became the city’s first black mayor.</p>
<p>Since the 1960s, Atlanta has billed itself as <a href="http://www.coca-colacompany.com/stories/the-night-atlanta-truly-became-the-city-too-busy-to-hate-">“The City Too Busy to Hate.”</a> That slogan belies a complex racial history, but it connotes city leaders’ desire to demonstrate a progressive racial politics. As political scientist Clarence Stone showed in his classic “<a href="https://kansaspress.ku.edu/subjects/political-science-urban-politics/978-0-7006-0416-6.html">Regime Politics</a>,” electing black mayors has served as an important manifestation of the mantra. </p>
<p>One day, Atlanta will elect a nonblack mayor. However, that does not mean that Atlanta will no longer be “The City Too Busy to Hate,” “Black Mecca” or any of the other monikers that people popularly invoke to describe Atlanta as being a hub of black social, economic and political mobility. And it does not mean that all of a sudden, blacks can no longer be competitive candidates for citywide office or that black voters will not remain influential in determining the outcome of elections. It just means that contests will take on a new dimension of competitiveness.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/86970/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Andra Gillespie has received funding from the National Science Foundation and the Ford Foundation. She directs an Institute funded by the Mellon Foundation.</span></em></p>Atlanta is a black majority city that has elected black mayors since 1973. Two candidates now face a runoff in December.Andra Gillespie, Associate Professor, Political Science, Emory UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/868252017-11-08T11:18:43Z2017-11-08T11:18:43ZGun violence in the US kills more black people and urban dwellers<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/193708/original/file-20171108-6715-1no2pxk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">A man changes a flag to half-staff near the First Baptist Church of Sutherland Springs.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">AP Photo/Eric Gay</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>On Nov. 5, just 35 days after the deadly Las Vegas <a href="https://www.reviewjournal.com/local/the-strip/at-least-58-dead-shootings-surpass-worst-in-u-s-history/">shooting</a>, a man walked into a church in a small Texas town and murdered <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2017/11/05/us/church-shooting-texas.html">26 people</a> with an assault rifle. The coverage dominated the news.</p>
<p>But the day before, even more people – <a href="http://www.gunviolencearchive.org/reports/number-of-gun-deaths?page=3">43</a> – were shot to death in cities and towns around the country. And nobody really seemed to notice.</p>
<p>Shootings kill <a href="https://webappa.cdc.gov/sasweb/ncipc/mortrate.html">more than 36,000</a> Americans each year. Every day, <a href="https://webappa.cdc.gov/sasweb/ncipc/mortrate.html">90 deaths</a> and <a href="https://everytownresearch.org/gun-violence-by-the-numbers/#Injuries">200 injuries</a> are caused by gun violence. Unlike terrorist acts, the everyday gun violence that impacts our communities is accepted as a way of life.</p>
<p>Of all firearm homicides in the world, <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/26551975">82 percent</a> occurs in the United States. An American is <a href="https://everytownresearch.org/gun-violence-by-the-numbers/">25 times more likely</a> to be fatally shot than a resident of other high-income nations. </p>
<p>As public health scholars who study firearm violence, we believe that our country is unique in its acceptance of gun violence. Although death by firearms in America is a public health crisis, it is a crisis that legislators accept as a societal norm. Some have <a href="https://www.propublica.org/article/how-the-gun-control-debate-ignores-black-lives">suggested</a> it is due to the fact that it is blacks and not whites who are the predominant victims, and our data support this striking disparity. </p>
<h2>Urban and racial disparities</h2>
<p>Within the United States, the odds of dying from firearm homicide are much higher for Americans who reside in cities. Twenty percent of all firearm homicides in the U.S. occur in the country’s <a href="https://everytownresearch.org/reports/strategies-for-reducing-gun-violence-in-american-cities/">25 largest cities</a>, even though they contain just over <a href="https://ballotpedia.org/Largest_cities_in_the_United_States_by_population">one-tenth</a> of the U.S. population. <a href="https://webappa.cdc.gov/sasweb/ncipc/mortrate.html">Data</a> from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention show that of the 12,979 firearm homicides in 2015, 81 percent occurred in urban areas.</p>
<p>There is even more to the story: CDC data also show that within our nation’s cities, black Americans are, on average, eight times more likely to be killed by firearms than those who are white. The rate of death by gun homicide for black people exceeds those among whites in all 50 states, but there is tremendous variation in the magnitude of this disparity. In 2015, a black person living in Wisconsin was <a href="https://webappa.cdc.gov/sasweb/ncipc/mortrate.html">26 times more likely</a> to be fatally shot than a white person in that state. At the same time, a black person in Arizona was “only” 3.2 times more likely than a white person to be killed by a gun. The combination of being black and living in an urban area is even more deadly. In 2015, the black homicide rate for urban areas in Missouri was higher than the total death rate from any cause in New York state.</p>
<p>These differences across states occur primarily because the gap between levels of disadvantage among white and black Americans differs sharply by state. For example, Wisconsin – the state with the highest disparity between black and white <a href="https://webappa.cdc.gov/cgi-bin/broker.exe">firearm homicide rates</a> – has the second-highest gap of any state between black and white <a href="https://www.prisonpolicy.org/graphs/raceinc.html">incarceration rates</a>, and the second-highest gap between black and white <a href="http://www.epi.org/publication/state-unemployment-rates-by-race-and-ethnicity-at-the-end-of-2016-show-progress-but-not-yet-full-recovery/">unemployment rates</a>. Racial disparities in advantage translate into racial disparities in firearm violence victimization.</p>
<p>Americans are <a href="http://www.businessinsider.com/death-risk-statistics-terrorism-disease-accidents-2017-1">128 times more likely</a> to be killed in everyday gun violence than by any act of international terrorism. And a black person living in an urban area is almost 500 times more likely to be killed by everyday gun violence than by terrorism. From a public health perspective, efforts to combat firearm violence need to be every bit as strong as those to fight terrorism.</p>
<p>The first step in treating the epidemic of firearm violence is declaring that the everyday gun violence that is devastating the nation is unacceptable. Mass shootings and terrorist attacks should not be the only incidents of violence that awaken Americans to the threats to our freedom and spur politicians to action.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/86825/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Michael Siegel receives funding from the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation Evidence for Action program to develop a database of state firearm laws and examine the impact of these laws on firearm violence. </span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Anita Knopov and Molly Pahn 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>Data show the vast majority of people killed by gun violence are black and live in urban areas.Molly Pahn, Research Manager, Boston UniversityAnita Knopov, Research fellow, Boston UniversityMichael Siegel, Professor of Community Health Sciences, Boston UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/839132017-09-15T10:22:36Z2017-09-15T10:22:36ZRoots of racism: 6 essential reads<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/185917/original/file-20170913-1514-vl1gl3.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">www.shutterstock.com</span></span></figcaption></figure><figure class="align-left ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/185914/original/file-20170913-20251-11v6x8i.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/185914/original/file-20170913-20251-11v6x8i.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=514&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/185914/original/file-20170913-20251-11v6x8i.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=514&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/185914/original/file-20170913-20251-11v6x8i.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=514&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/185914/original/file-20170913-20251-11v6x8i.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=646&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/185914/original/file-20170913-20251-11v6x8i.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=646&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/185914/original/file-20170913-20251-11v6x8i.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=646&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p><em>On Friday, Sept. 15, “<a href="http://www.ozy.com/topic/third-rail">Third Rail with OZY</a>” will discuss racism in the United States.</em></p>
<p><em>These stories from The Conversation archive explore where racism came from and why it persists.</em> </p>
<hr>
<h2>1. Going back to Europe</h2>
<p>American University historian <a href="https://theconversation.com/profiles/ibram-x-kendi-277652">Ibram Kendi</a> has traced the history of racist ideas in the U.S. back to the European societies that largely populated our nation. <a href="https://theconversation.com/uncovering-the-roots-of-racist-ideas-in-america-71467">In an essay</a> based on his award-winning book “Stamped from the Beginning,” Kendi rejects the conventional wisdom that hate and ignorance breed racist policies. </p>
<p>Rather, Kendi writes: “Time and again, powerful and brilliant men and women have produced racist ideas in order to justify the racist policies of their era.”</p>
<h2>2. Myths of slavery</h2>
<p>Arguably, the most racist policy of any era was the one that allowed whites in this country to call black people property – chattel slavery.</p>
<p>Many people connect the origins of racism to slavery without knowing much about that history. <a href="https://theconversation.com/profiles/daina-ramey-berry-141237">Daina Ramey Berry</a>, a historian at University of Texas at Austin, lays out <a href="https://theconversation.com/american-slavery-separating-fact-from-myth-79620">four major myths of slavery</a> – including the idea that it happened too long ago to have much impact on our contemporary society.</p>
<p>“Truth: African-Americans have been free in this country for less time than they were enslaved,” Berry writes. “Do the math: Blacks have been free for 152 years, which means that most Americans are only two to three generations away from slavery.”</p>
<h2>3. Teach your children well</h2>
<p>One reason racism persists into contemporary times is because racist ideas are passed down from one generation to the next. Psychologist <a href="https://theconversation.com/profiles/marjorie-rhodes-317040">Marjorie Rhodes</a> looks at the importance of <a href="https://theconversation.com/combatting-stereotypes-how-to-talk-to-your-children-71929">how adults speak to children</a>.</p>
<p>“Hearing generalizations, even positive or neutral ones, contributes to the tendency to view the world through the lens of social stereotypes,” Rhodes writes.</p>
<h2>4. Not just city folk</h2>
<p>One stereotype people hold is that American cities are diverse while rural areas are mostly white.</p>
<p>However, research by <a href="https://theconversation.com/profiles/jennifer-van-hook-312964">Jennifer Van Hook</a> and <a href="https://theconversation.com/profiles/barrett-lee-325213">Barrett Lee</a> at Penn State shows “the populations of <a href="https://theconversation.com/diversity-is-on-the-rise-in-urban-and-rural-communities-and-its-here-to-stay-69095">communities throughout the nation are being transformed</a>,” as the scholars write. “Nine out of 10 rural places experienced increases in diversity between 1990 and 2010, and these changes occurred in every region of the country.”</p>
<p>The researchers argue this trend is past the tipping point. “Despite the initial importance of migration, racial and ethnic diversity is now self-sustaining,” they write. “Minority groups will soon be maintained by ‘natural increase,’ when births exceed deaths, rather than by new immigration.”</p>
<h2>5. Learning while black</h2>
<p><a href="https://theconversation.com/profiles/kevin-oneal-cokley-247888">Kevin O'Neal Cokley</a> of the University of Texas, Austin is an African-American scholar who studies <a href="https://theconversation.com/what-it-means-to-be-black-in-the-american-educational-system-63576">the experiences of black college students</a>.</p>
<p>“The unfortunate reality is that black Americans experience subtle and overt discrimination from preschool all the way to college,” Cokley writes. “Black boys are almost three times as likely to be suspended than white boys, and black girls are four times as likely to be suspended than white girls.”</p>
<p>The issue is not restricted to primary education. Black men are also underrepresented in college – even compared to black women. “According to data from the U.S. Census Bureau, there were 887,000 black women enrolled in college versus 618,000 black men,” Cokley writes.</p>
<h2>6. A hopeful message</h2>
<p>“How can we heal a nation that is divided along race, class and political lines?” <a href="https://theconversation.com/profiles/joshua-f-j-inwood-315335">Joshua F.J. Inwood</a> of the Rock Ethics Institute at Penn State asked. He suggests that remembering Martin Luther King Jr.’s message of love <a href="https://theconversation.com/why-a-fractured-nation-needs-to-remember-kings-message-of-love-68643">could bring our fractured nation together</a>.</p>
<p>“For King,” Inwood writes, “love is a key part of creating communities that work for everyone and not just the few at the expense of the many.”</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/83913/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
When were the seeds of racism sown in the US and why is it so hard to root out?Emily Costello, Director of Collaborations + Local News, The Conversation USDanielle Douez, Associate Editor, Politics + SocietyLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/814272017-07-26T01:55:29Z2017-07-26T01:55:29Z100 years ago African-Americans marched down 5th Avenue to declare that black lives matter<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/179312/original/file-20170722-28515-16wxxmn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Silent protest parade in New York against the East St. Louis riots, 1917.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="http://www.loc.gov/pictures/item/95517074/">Library of Congress</a></span></figcaption></figure><p><em>Editor’s Note: This article was published on July 25, 2017.</em></p>
<p>The only sounds were those of muffled drums, the shuffling of feet and the gentle sobs of some of the estimated 20,000 onlookers. The women and children wore all white. The men dressed in black. </p>
<p>On the afternoon of Saturday, July 28, 1917, nearly 10,000 African-Americans marched down Fifth Avenue, in silence, to protest racial violence and white supremacy in the United States.</p>
<p>New York City, and the nation, had never before witnessed such a remarkable scene. </p>
<p>The “Silent Protest Parade,” as it came to be known, was the first mass African-American demonstration of its kind and marked a watershed moment in the history of the civil rights movement. As I have written in my book <a href="https://www.uncpress.org/book/9781469609850/torchbearers-of-democracy/">“Torchbearers of Democracy</a>,” African-Americans during the World War I era challenged racism both abroad and at home. In taking to the streets to dramatize the brutal treatment of black people, the participants of the “Silent Protest Parade” indicted the United States as an unjust nation. </p>
<p>This charge remains true today.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/179691/original/file-20170725-2133-1td69y0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/179691/original/file-20170725-2133-1td69y0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/179691/original/file-20170725-2133-1td69y0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=390&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/179691/original/file-20170725-2133-1td69y0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=390&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/179691/original/file-20170725-2133-1td69y0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=390&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/179691/original/file-20170725-2133-1td69y0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=490&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/179691/original/file-20170725-2133-1td69y0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=490&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/179691/original/file-20170725-2133-1td69y0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=490&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Several thousand people attended a Seattle rally to call attention to minority rights and police brutality in April 2017.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">AP Photo/Ted S. Warren</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>One hundred years later, as black people continue to insist that “Black Lives Matter,” the “Silent Protest Parade” offers a vivid reminder about the power of courageous leadership, grassroots mobilization, direct action and their collective necessity in the fight to end racial oppression in our current troubled times. </p>
<h2>Racial violence and the East St. Louis Riot</h2>
<p>One of the great accomplishments of the Black Lives Matter movement has been to demonstrate the continuum of racist violence against black people throughout American history and also the history of <a href="https://global.oup.com/academic/product/the-making-of-black-lives-matter-9780190601348?cc=us&lang=en&">resistance against it</a>. But as we continue to grapple with the <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2017/06/20/us/police-shooting-castile-trial-video.html?_r=0">hyper-visibility of black death</a>, it is perhaps easy to forget just how truly horrific racial violence against black people was a century ago. </p>
<p>Prior to the “Silent Protest Parade,” <a href="https://archive.org/details/thirtyyearsoflyn00nati">mob violence and the lynching</a> of African-Americans had grown even more gruesome. In Waco, a mob of 10,000 white Texans attended the May 15, 1916, lynching of a black farmer, <a href="http://www.tamupress.com/product/First-Waco-Horror,1483.aspx">Jesse Washington</a>. One year later, on May 22, 1917, a black woodcutter, <a href="https://www.memphisflyer.com/memphis/memphis-burning/Content?oid=4438125">Ell Persons</a>, died at the hands of over 5,000 vengeance-seeking whites in Memphis. Both men were burned and mutilated, their charred body parts distributed and displayed as souvenirs.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/a-short-history-of-black-women-and-police-violence-139937">A short history of black women and police violence</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>Even by these grisly standards, <a href="http://www.press.uillinois.edu/books/catalog/57mbk5qp9780252009518.html">East St. Louis</a> later that same summer was shocking. Simmering labor tensions between white and black workers exploded on the evening of July 2, 1917.</p>
<p>For 24 hours, white mobs indiscriminately stabbed, shot and lynched anyone with black skin. Men, women, children, the elderly, the disabled – no one was spared. Homes were torched and occupants shot down as they attempted to flee. White militia men stood idly by as the carnage unfolded. Some actively participated. The death toll likely ran as high as 200 people.</p>
<p>The city’s surviving 6,000 black residents became refugees. </p>
<figure class="align-left zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/179539/original/file-20170724-11166-omtn8e.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/179539/original/file-20170724-11166-omtn8e.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/179539/original/file-20170724-11166-omtn8e.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=747&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/179539/original/file-20170724-11166-omtn8e.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=747&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/179539/original/file-20170724-11166-omtn8e.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=747&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/179539/original/file-20170724-11166-omtn8e.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=939&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/179539/original/file-20170724-11166-omtn8e.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=939&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/179539/original/file-20170724-11166-omtn8e.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=939&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Ida B. Wells.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="http://www.loc.gov/pictures/item/93505758/">Library of Congress</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>East St. Louis was an <a href="http://www.ohioswallow.com/book/American+Pogrom">American pogrom</a>. The fearless African-American anti-lynching activist <a href="https://www.harpercollins.com/9780061972942">Ida B. Wells</a> traveled to the still smoldering city on July 4 and <a href="http://gildedage.lib.niu.edu/islandora/object/niu-gildedage%3A24051">collected firsthand accounts</a> of the aftermath. She described what she saw as an “awful orgy of human butchery.” </p>
<p>The devastation of East St. Louis was compounded by the fact that America was at war. <a href="https://wwi.lib.byu.edu/index.php/Wilson's_War_Message_to_Congress">On April 2</a>, President Woodrow Wilson had thrown the United States into the maelstrom of World War I. He did so by asserting <a href="https://theconversation.com/1917-woodrow-wilsons-call-to-war-pulled-america-onto-a-global-stage-75022">America’s singularly unique place on the global stage</a> and his goal to make the world “safe for democracy.” In the eyes of black people, East St. Louis exposed the hypocrisy of Wilson’s vision and America itself. </p>
<h2>The NAACP takes action</h2>
<p>The <a href="http://www.naacp.org/">National Association for the Advancement of Colored People</a> quickly responded to the massacre. Founded in 1909, the NAACP had yet to establish itself as a truly representative <a href="http://thenewpress.com/books/lift-every-voice">organization for African-Americans across the country</a>. With the exception of <a href="https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781466841512">W.E.B. Du Bois</a>, one of the NAACP’s co-founders and editor of The Crisis magazine, the national leadership was all white. Branches were overwhelmingly located in the North, despite the majority of African-Americans residing below the Mason-Dixon line. As a result, the NAACP had largely failed to respond with a sense of urgency to the everyday horrors endured by the masses of black folk. </p>
<figure class="align-left ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/179628/original/file-20170725-31338-oegjci.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/179628/original/file-20170725-31338-oegjci.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=777&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/179628/original/file-20170725-31338-oegjci.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=777&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/179628/original/file-20170725-31338-oegjci.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=777&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/179628/original/file-20170725-31338-oegjci.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=976&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/179628/original/file-20170725-31338-oegjci.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=976&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/179628/original/file-20170725-31338-oegjci.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=976&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">James Weldon Johnson.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:James_Weldon_Johnson.jpg">Twentieth Century Negro Literature</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p><a href="http://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/321968/along-this-way-by-james-weldon-johnson/9780143105176/">James Weldon Johnson</a> changed things. Lawyer, diplomat, novelist, poet and songwriter, Johnson was a true African-American renaissance man. In 1916, Johnson joined the NAACP as a field secretary and made an immediate impact. In addition to growing the organization’s southern membership, Johnson recognized the importance of expanding the influence of the NAACP’s existing branches beyond the black elite.</p>
<p>Johnson raised the idea of a silent protest march at an executive committee meeting of the NAACP Harlem branch shortly after the East St. Louis riot. Johnson also insisted that the protest include the city’s entire black community. Planning quickly got underway, spearheaded by Johnson and local black clergymen. </p>
<h2>A historic day</h2>
<p>By noon on July 28, several thousand African-Americans had begun to assemble at 59th Street. Crowds gathered along Fifth Avenue. Anxious New York City police officers lined the streets, aware of what was about to take place but, with clubs at the ready, prepared for trouble.</p>
<p>At approximately 1 p.m., the protest parade commenced. Four men carrying drums began to slowly, solemnly play. A group of black clergymen and NAACP officials made up the front line. W.E.B. Du Bois, who had recently returned from conducting an <a href="http://library.brown.edu/pdfs/1292426769648500.pdf">NAACP investigation in East St. Louis</a>, and James Weldon Johnson marched side by side. </p>
<p>The parade was a stunning spectacle. At the front, women and children wearing all-white gowns symbolized the innocence of African-Americans in the face of the nation’s guilt. The men, bringing up the rear and dressed in dark suits, conveyed both a mournful dignity and stern determination to stand up for their rights as citizens.</p>
<p>They carried signs and banners shaming America for its treatment of black people. Some read, “Your hands are full of blood,” “Thou Shalt Not Kill,” “Mothers, do lynchers go to heaven?” Others highlighted the wartime context and the hollowness of America’s ideals: “We have fought for the liberty of white Americans in six wars; our reward was East St. Louis,” “Patriotism and loyalty presuppose protection and liberty,” “Make America safe for Democracy.”</p>
<p>Throughout the parade, the marchers remained silent. The New York Times <a href="https://timesmachine.nytimes.com/timesmachine/1917/07/29/96262006.html?pageNumber=12">described the protest</a> as “one of the most quiet and orderly demonstrations ever witnessed.” The silence was finally broken with cheers when the parade concluded at Madison Square. </p>
<h2>Legacy of the Silent Protest Parade</h2>
<p>The “Silent Protest Parade” marked the beginning of a new epoch in the long black freedom struggle. While adhering to a certain <a href="http://www.hup.harvard.edu/catalog.php?isbn=9780674769786">politics of respectability</a>, a strategy employed by African-Americans that focused on countering racist stereotypes through dignified appearance and behavior, the protest, within its context, constituted a radical claiming of the public sphere and a powerful affirmation of black humanity. It declared that a “New Negro” had arrived and launched a black public protest tradition that would be seen in the parades of the <a href="http://lsupress.org/books/detail/the-world-of-marcus-garvey/">Universal Negro Improvement Association</a>, the civil rights demonstrations of the 1960s and the Black Lives Matter marches of today. </p>
<p>[<em>Context on today’s headlines, each day.</em> <a href="https://theconversation.com/us/newsletters?utm_source=TCUS&utm_medium=inline-link&utm_campaign=newsletter-text&utm_content=context">You can get it with The Conversation’s email newsletter</a>.]</p>
<p>The “Silent Protest Parade” reminds us that the fight against racist violence and the killing of black people remains just as relevant now as it did 100 years ago. Black death, whether at the hands of a <a href="http://www.cnn.com/2017/05/03/us/alton-sterling-doj-death-investigation/index.html">Baton Rouge police officer</a> or <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/world/national-security/charleston-church-shooter-i-would-like-to-make-it-crystal-clear-i-do-not-regret-what-i-did/2017/01/04/05b0061e-d1da-11e6-a783-cd3fa950f2fd_story.html">white supremacist in Charleston</a>, is a specter that continues to haunt this nation. The expendability of black bodies is American tradition, and history speaks to the long endurance of this violent legacy.</p>
<p>But history also offers inspiration, purpose and vision. </p>
<p>Ida B. Wells, James Weldon Johnson and other freedom fighters of their generation should serve as models for activists today. That the “Silent Protest Parade” attracted black people from all walks of life and backgrounds attests to the need for organizations like the NAACP, following its recent national convention, to remember and embrace its origins. And, in building and sustaining the current movement, we can take lessons from past struggles and work strategically and creatively to apply them to the present. </p>
<p>Because, at their core, the demands of black people in 2017 remain the same as one of the signs raised to the sky on that July afternoon in 1917: </p>
<p>“Give me a chance to live.”</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/81427/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Chad Williams 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>Thousands marched in silence against racial violence after a riot left hundreds of blacks dead and thousands homeless. The demands of black people in 2017 remain the same as they did in 1917.Chad Williams, Associate Professor of African and Afro-American Studies, Brandeis UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/785622017-06-29T23:51:11Z2017-06-29T23:51:11ZWill women vote for women in 2018? It depends on if they’re married<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/176255/original/file-20170629-16051-1cwjfo1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">EMILY's List helps elect pro-choice Democratic women candidates to office.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">AP Photo/Charles Dharapak</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>The 2018 elections promise to be the “<a href="http://www.nbcnews.com/news/us-news/trump-backlash-could-make-2018-new-year-women-ballot-box-n718976">Year of the Woman</a>,” with more women planning to step into local, state and federal elections than ever before. </p>
<p>This represents a significant change. The United States has some of the lowest female political representation in the world. Only 24.8 percent of <a href="http://www.ncsl.org/legislators-staff/legislators/womens-legislative-network/women-in-state-legislatures-for-2017.aspx">state legislature seats are occupied by women</a>. As more women consider entering politics in response to Donald Trump’s sexist <a href="http://www.nbcnews.com/news/us-news/trump-backlash-could-make-2018-new-year-women-ballot-box-n718976">remarks during the election</a> and the <a href="http://www.npr.org/2017/02/23/515438978/trumps-election-drives-more-women-to-consider-running-for-office">historic Hillary Clinton loss</a>, findings from <a href="http://journals.sagepub.com/doi/abs/10.1177/1065912917702499">our study</a> on voter attitudes offer a warning: Candidates shouldn’t assume women will vote for other women.</p>
<p>This was evident in the 2016 presidential election. Hillary Clinton worked to appeal to female voters but performed <a href="http://time.com/4566748/hillary-clinton-firewall-women/">poorly among white women</a>. Some have argued Clinton’s personality caused her inability to <a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/politics/archive/2016/11/white-women-support-gop/507617/">emotionally connect to voters</a>. </p>
<p>However, our research indicates that Clinton’s failure to capture the white female vote is, in part, based in something more fundamental – marriage.</p>
<h2>The fate of women</h2>
<p>We used data from the <a href="http://www.electionstudies.org/">American National Election Study</a>, which has collected data on American voters’ attitudes since 1948. In 2012, more than 2,000 women were asked: “Do you think that what happens generally to women in this country will have something to do with what happens in your life?” </p>
<p>Those who answered “yes” were then asked to report the extent to which what happens to others affects them. We used this measure to identify “gender-linked fate,” or the extent to which women see their futures as tied to those of other women. We found that married white and Latina women were less likely to view their fate as tied to other women. </p>
<p>We then tested whether this impacted their political attitudes. We found that when married white women felt disconnected from other women, answering “no” to the question above, they were less likely to identify as a Democrat, and more likely to hold conservative political views.</p>
<p>In contrast to these married white and Latina women, single and divorced whites and Latinas were more likely to see their futures tied to other women. As a result, they were also more likely to identify as Democrats and liberals.</p>
<p>Black women, regardless of marital status, were most likely to see their futures as tied to those of other women and consistently voted democratically and held progressive attitudes.</p>
<p>In part, this captures a difference in message. While the Republican Party has focused their efforts to redress gender inequality in a <a href="https://www.gop.com/issue/family-values/canonical/">platform that emphasizes family values</a>, Democrats have focused more explicitly on equalizing opportunity by <a href="https://www.democrats.org/party-platform">reducing institutional gender discrimination</a>. </p>
<p>Single and divorced women resonate more with the Democrats’ message, with four times as many respondents in our data reporting that the Democratic Party did a better job looking out for women’s interests than the Republican Party.</p>
<p>So why does marriage alter white and Latina married women’s political alliances? And, why do black women not follow the same trend?</p>
<h2>You and me: Marriage and changing behaviors</h2>
<p>Research suggests that marriage generally shifts individuals’ attitudes and behaviors. For example, evidence shows married women become more conservative on gender-related issues over the course of their marriage and perceive themselves as having <a href="http://journals.cambridge.org/article_S0003055400096404">less in common with other women</a>. In part, this captures the fact that many married couples become more similar to each other in their <a href="http://journals.cambridge.org/article_S0003055400096404">attitudes and behaviors</a>. </p>
<p>Someone could reasonably ask, why does marriage make married women more conservative, rather than making men more feminist? It’s a matter of <a href="http://escholarship.org/uc/item/9s54f2mc">power and resources</a>.</p>
<p>Women consistently earn less money and hold less power, which fosters <a href="http://search.proquest.com/openview/dd0061f9909b9804f40e0bca440d047d/1?pq-origsite=gscholar&cbl=25922">women’s economic dependency on men</a>. This dependency increases if women reduce employment and rely on husbands’ earnings following the birth of a child. Thus, it is within married women’s interests to support policies and politicians who protect their husbands and improve their status. </p>
<p>Some married women <a href="http://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/026098279190018P">perceive advances</a> for women, such as lawsuits to mitigate pay discrimination, as coming <a href="http://journals.sagepub.com/doi/abs/10.2307/1389781">at the expense</a> of <a href="http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/0162-895X.00253/full">their male partners</a>. In part, this captures the shift in married women’s alliances from the individual to the marital union. Women who depend on their own income are <a href="https://muse.jhu.edu/article/179725/summary">more supportive of feminist issues</a> such as abortion, sexual behavior, gender roles and family responsibilities, which widens the political gap between single and married women. </p>
<p>It follows that politicians cannot expect married women to vote as a block on women’s issues. </p>
<p>The only exception to this rule may be black women. An existing <a href="http://www.hup.harvard.edu/catalog.php?isbn=9780674325401">body of research shows</a> that blacks are better able to identify systematic forms of discrimination because of their experiences with it. Thus, they are more likely to see their futures as tied to other blacks. Our study shows this extends to gender as well. Black women are better able to identify gender discrimination regardless of marital status and, as a consequence, they vote more progressively.</p>
<h2>Lessons for female politicians</h2>
<p>Given that married women make up about <a href="http://edition.cnn.com/election/results/exit-polls">30 percent of the electorate</a>, what lessons might 2018 hopefuls draw from our research? </p>
<p>First, targeting messages to the demographics of the audience can make a difference – and this includes race, class and marital status.</p>
<p>Second, don’t assume that married women will connect to other women based on a notion of shared womanhood. Rather, feminist messages of discrimination and sexism may be more compelling to women who shoulder disproportionate levels of <a href="https://books.google.com.au/books?hl=en&lr=&id=qvhyAwAAQBAJ&oi=fnd&pg=PP1&dq=Continuity++and+Change+in+the+American+Family&ots=UFAJphSZLG&sig=C4W3P1Pz87TxrMF5jO6ebCCYabw">inequality, poverty and job insecurity</a> – single, divorced and black women.</p>
<p>Finally, messages about economic struggles should be expanded to the family level, to better capture the challenges of married couples. </p>
<p>As we deepen our understanding of women’s voting patterns, the 2018 elections may prove a momentous expansion of women’s political representation.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/78562/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Leah Ruppanner receives funding from the Australian Research Council. </span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Christopher Stout and Kelsy Kretschmer 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>Research shows that married women tend not to relate as much to other women. This makes a big difference when a woman is on the ballot.Leah Ruppanner, Senior Lecturer in Sociology, The University of MelbourneChristopher Stout, Assistant Professor of Political Science, Oregon State UniversityKelsy Kretschmer, Assistant Professor of Sociology, Oregon State UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/761382017-06-02T20:00:28Z2017-06-02T20:00:28ZDoes changing style of hair or dress help black people avoid stigma?<p>On the eve of the NBA Finals, superstar LeBron James found the “N-word” spray painted on his home. Not even <a href="http://www.espn.com/nba/story/_/id/19505341/police-looking-racial-slur-sprayed-front-gate-lebron-james-home-los-angeles">James</a>, with all his wealth, fame and success, is exempt from being <a href="https://theconversation.com/uncovering-the-roots-of-racist-ideas-in-america-71467">attacked with classic racist slurs</a>.</p>
<p>In the United States, blackness is stamped with centuries-old <a href="http://www.publicaffairsbooks.com/book/hardcover/stamped-from-the-beginning/9781568584638">images and ideas</a> that assign it to <a href="http://press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/S/bo21386376.html">perpetual “last place</a>.”</p>
<p>One way blacks have historically responded to stigma – a discredited or disgraced identity – is by displaying what they understand as mainstream values associated with white elites. This strategy, often referred to as “respectability,” is intended to put on display black people’s fitness for full cultural and social citizenship, thereby protecting them from stigma or lowering their exposure to it.</p>
<p>We know from prior research that consumption has been an important <a href="http://www.springer.com/us/book/9780306460890">part of this strategy</a> since a full-fledged mass market emerged in the U.S. in the late 1800s. The mass market brought with it standard product quality, package sizes and prices. Before that, <a href="https://www.uncpress.org/book/9780807848067/american-dreams-in-mississippi/">as historian Ted Ownby has detailed</a>, blacks had little chance to escape discrimination and stigmatized treatment at local general stores. The mass market, at least in principle, provided an opportunity to express equality with whites in a very tangible way.</p>
<p>These everyday acts of consumption may seem simple, but they gave birth to the Montgomery bus boycott and other acts of anti-racist resistance. Rosa Parks and Montgomery’s riders protested more than the indignity of “back of the bus” treatment. They protested paying full fare for less than full service. Likewise, the student sit-ins at lunch counters throughout the Jim Crow South, as well as protests at leisure places in the North <a href="http://www.upenn.edu/pennpress/book/15035.html">like swimming pools, golf courses and amusement parks</a>, protested for the rights of blacks to engage fully as consumers.</p>
<p>As a researcher who studies sociological aspects of consumption, <a href="https://www.researchgate.net/profile/David_Crockett2/publications">including racial inequality</a>, I examine the question of how well consumption works to manage everyday anti-black stigma in a forthcoming study in the <a href="http://academic.oup.com/jcr/article/doi/10.1093/jcr/ucx049/3064204/Paths-to-Respectability-Consumption-and-Stigma?guestAccessKey=04bdd54a-31c8-47b4-b394-972286268627">Journal of Consumer Research</a>.</p>
<p>Here’s what I found.</p>
<h2>Two approaches</h2>
<p>My analysis shows that members of the contemporary black middle class continue to use consumption to combat stigma. However, after the end of the civil rights movement by 1970, the strategy splintered into two approaches.</p>
<p>The most traditional approach involves avoiding stigmatized objects and practices. The other approach, which emerged after 1970, uses cultural features of blackness to destigmatize objects and practices.</p>
<p>People at times use both strategies to combat “[Fill in the blank] while black” treatment at <a href="http://scholarship.sha.cornell.edu/articles/587/">restaurants</a>, <a href="http://www.ebony.com/news-views/black-bank-profiling-lawsuit">banks</a>, in <a href="http://losangeles.cbslocal.com/2016/02/02/city-council-oks-airport-ban-on-cab-drivers-who-refuse-customers-based-on-race/">taxis</a> or <a href="https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2016-10-31/study-finds-racial-discrimination-by-uber-and-lyft-drivers">using a ride-hailing app</a> like Uber or Lyft. </p>
<h2>How well do these strategies work?</h2>
<p><em>Note: To protect the anonymity of study participants, I do not identify specific locations. I also use pseudonyms.</em></p>
<p><strong>Case 1: When avoiding stigmatized things or actions works</strong>. No one better embodies this than former President Barack Obama and First Lady Michelle Obama (not participants in my study, unfortunately). Their entire public persona <a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/politics/archive/2013/05/how-the-obama-administration-talks-to-black-america/276015/">scrupulously avoids anti-black stigma</a>. </p>
<p>Many study participants likewise reported an emphasis on avoiding stigmatized objects and practices. For example, one person was critical of “sagging” pants or shorts as a style because it invites stigmatized treatment. They feel that this vigilance in avoiding stigma helps them “fit in” in predominantly white settings. </p>
<p><strong>Case 2: When avoiding stigmatized things or actions fails</strong>. Rather than 1950s-style discrimination or open racial hostility, participants emphasized seeing fewer benefits from middle-class status than their white counterparts. For instance, a group of participants who each migrated to a small, rural southern town from more cosmopolitan settings found that avoiding stigmatized objects and practices did not help them or their children fit in with white middle-class peers. They felt they were not granted the status that presumably comes with middle-class occupations, accomplishments and households. </p>
<p>A participant spoke about coming to terms with this in the context of his daughters’ experience at school. In a story I heard repeated, he said:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>“You know when it hit me? Prom. That’s when it finally – when my daughter had to go to prom with her girlfriends… I was like how tough is this for you to be an A student, an athlete, doing the right thing, and you can’t even date these knuckleheads because they want certain things that you’re not ready to compromise?”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Prom, with its formal dresses and tuxedos, bouquets and boutonnieres, hair, makeup and limousines, is the quintessential consumption event of adolescence. It is also where the politics of race, class and gender became crystal clear to this dad. His daughter refused to accept last-place stigma, which for black girls means the <a href="http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=10057104">presumption of openness to sexual advances</a>. Although she conformed to the classic “good girl” norms of achievement and chastity, this did not shield her from last place stigma. It also left her dateless on prom night. </p>
<p><strong>Case 3: When “oppositional respectability” succeeds</strong>. My study is the first to identify this approach to combating stigma, which emerged after 1970. Rather than avoid stigmatized things and actions, it seeks to remove stigma using features of black culture. For instance, one participant, Adam, does this by cultivating an identity as a cosmopolitan consumer of fine arts who especially loves African-American and African art.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/165153/original/image-20170412-25898-1j88v7x.PNG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/165153/original/image-20170412-25898-1j88v7x.PNG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=487&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/165153/original/image-20170412-25898-1j88v7x.PNG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=487&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/165153/original/image-20170412-25898-1j88v7x.PNG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=487&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/165153/original/image-20170412-25898-1j88v7x.PNG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=612&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/165153/original/image-20170412-25898-1j88v7x.PNG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=612&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/165153/original/image-20170412-25898-1j88v7x.PNG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=612&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Pieces from Adam’s art collection.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>His extensive art collection is an expression of pride in his cultural heritage, although black art is historically stigmatized as <a href="http://www.journals.uchicago.edu/doi/abs/10.1086/496153?journalCode=wp">“low-brow” and unrefined</a>. So how does he destigmatize these objects?</p>
<p>In my interview with him, his extensive knowledge of pieces with slave themes allow him to craft a story that centers (rather than minimizes) slavery as an ordeal that forged great strength of character. In his telling, that character – and in effect, the art – is part of his cultural heritage.</p>
<p><strong>Case 4: when “oppositional respectability” fails</strong>. Cynthia, a young, single, corporate attorney, lives in a midsized southern city. She migrated there, the city of her childhood, after law school. It’s a traditional black working-class and poor neighborhood derisively known as “Black Bottom.” She was one of few blacks to be part of a wave of gentrification in the neighborhood. Like Adam, she sought to combat last-place stigma by removing stigma from the neighborhood. The ways <a href="https://newsone.com/3114333/gentrification-is-racist-brooklyn-landlord/">gentrification exacerbates racial inequality</a> are well-documented, yet has also <a href="http://press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/H/bo3643926.html">helped remove last-place stigma</a> attached to certain neighborhoods.</p>
<p>The market reinforced her efforts, as it did Adam’s. Builders renovated older homes and buildings in anticipation of newcomers. But many of the first wave of gentrifiers moved away for fear of crime. When perceptions of neighborhood disorder become widespread they almost invariably exceed reality, but they are very <a href="http://myweb.fsu.edu/bstults/ccj5625/readings/sampson_raudenbush-spq-2004.pdf">difficult to change</a>.</p>
<p>Cynthia did not see her move to combat stigma as successful. When I interviewed her, she was contemplating leaving the area, as life there became less tolerable. Many traditional residents saw her as just another gentrifying intruder. And without any real change in the neighborhood stigma, Cynthia felt navigating crime in the neighborhood wasn’t worth it, even if it wasn’t as bad as its reputation suggested.</p>
<h2>Shaking stigma</h2>
<p>Avoiding stigmatized things and actions is the classic approach for many African-Americans. For them, “Pull up your pants!” has an unassailable logic. But my research suggests that, whatever other benefits may come from hiking up one’s britches, that won’t always effectively combat stigma. </p>
<p>Many participants shared instances of their refusal to internalize anti-black stigma, and how they expressed that through things like art collections, home displays, and personal hair and clothing styles. This approach works best when people can craft stories that disavow stigma and the marketplace reinforces their stories.</p>
<p>Yet for many, stigma still attaches more strongly to black identity than to <a href="http://www.apa.org/news/press/releases/2014/03/black-boys-older.aspx">specific behaviors or objects</a>. Once attached, it can <a href="https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=2538616">survive for a long time</a>.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/76138/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>David Crockett received funding for this study from the Institute for African American Research at the University of South Carolina. </span></em></p>Research on how black people try to avoid racism in their daily lives shows that following white, mainstream standards can have mixed results.David Crockett, Associate Professor of Marketing, University of South CarolinaLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/717802017-02-10T04:06:32Z2017-02-10T04:06:32ZAfrican-American GIs of WWII: Fighting for democracy abroad and at home<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/156252/original/image-20170209-28716-6qsolu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Two U.S. soldiers on Easter morning, 1945.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">NARA</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Until the 21st century, the contributions of African-American soldiers in World War II barely registered in America’s collective memory of that war. </p>
<p>The “tan soldiers,” as the Black press affectionately called them, were also for the most part left out of the triumphant narrative of America’s “Greatest Generation.” In order to tell their story of helping defeat Nazi Germany in my 2010 book, “<a href="http://aacvr-germany.org/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=88&Itemid=33/">Breath of Freedom</a>,” I had to conduct research in more than 40 different archives in the U.S. and Germany.</p>
<p>When a German TV production company, together with Smithsonian TV, turned that book into a <a href="https://vimeo.com/ondemand/breathoffreedom">documentary</a>, the filmmakers searched U.S. media and military archives for two years for footage of Black GIs in the final push into Germany and during the occupation of post-war Germany. </p>
<p>They watched hundreds of hours of film and discovered less than 10 minutes of footage. This despite the fact that among the 16 million U.S. soldiers who fought in World War II, there were about one million African-American soldiers.</p>
<p>They fought in the Pacific, and they were part of the victorious army that liberated Europe from Nazi rule. Black soldiers were also part of the U.S. Army of occupation in Germany after the war. Still serving in strictly segregated units, they were sent to democratize the Germans and expunge all forms of racism.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/156253/original/image-20170209-8640-18ygaep.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/156253/original/image-20170209-8640-18ygaep.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=443&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/156253/original/image-20170209-8640-18ygaep.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=443&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/156253/original/image-20170209-8640-18ygaep.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=443&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/156253/original/image-20170209-8640-18ygaep.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=557&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/156253/original/image-20170209-8640-18ygaep.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=557&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/156253/original/image-20170209-8640-18ygaep.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=557&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A soldier paints over a swastika.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">NARA</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>It was that experience that convinced many of these veterans to continue their struggle for equality when they returned home to the U.S. They were to become the foot soldiers of the civil rights movement – a movement that changed the face of our nation and inspired millions of repressed people across the globe.</p>
<p>As a scholar of <a href="https://history.vassar.edu/bios/mahoehn.html">German history</a> and of the more than 70-year U.S. military presence in Germany, I have marveled at the men and women of that generation. They were willing to fight for democracy abroad, while being denied democratic rights at home in the U.S. Because of their belief in America’s “democratic promise” and their sacrifices on behalf of those ideals, I was born into a free and democratic West Germany, just 10 years after that horrific war. </p>
<h2>Fighting racism at home and abroad</h2>
<p>By deploying troops abroad as warriors for and emissaries of American democracy, the military literally <a href="http://aacvr-germany.org/">exported</a> the African-American freedom struggle. </p>
<p>Beginning in 1933, when Adolf Hitler came to power, African-American activists and the Black press used white America’s condemnation of Nazi racism to expose and indict the abuses of Jim Crow at home. America’s entry into the war and the struggle against Nazi Germany allowed civil rights activists to significantly step up their rhetoric. </p>
<p>Langston Hughes’ 1943 poem, “<a href="http://eji.org/reports/online/lynching-in-america-targeting-black-veterans">From Beaumont to Detroit</a>,” addressed to America, eloquently expressed that sentiment: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>“You jim crowed me / Before hitler rose to power- / And you are still jim crowing me- / Right now this very hour.” </p>
</blockquote>
<p>Believing that fighting for American democracy abroad would finally grant African-Americans full citizenship at home, civil rights activists put pressure on the U.S. government to allow African-American soldiers to “fight like men,” side by side with white troops. </p>
<p>The military brass, disproportionately dominated by white Southern officers, refused. They argued that such a step would undermine military efficiency and negatively impact the morale of white soldiers. In an integrated military, Black officers or NCOs might also end up commanding white troops. Such a challenge to the Jim Crow racial order based on white supremacy was seen as unacceptable. </p>
<p>The manpower of Black soldiers was needed in order to win the war, but the military brass got its way; America’s Jim Crow order was to be upheld. African-Americans were allowed to train as pilots in the segregated Tuskeegee Airmen. The 92nd Buffalo Soldiers and 93rd Blue Helmets all-Black divisions were activated and sent abroad under the command of white officers. </p>
<p>Despite these concessions, 90 percent of Black troops were forced to serve in labor and supply units, rather than the more prestigious combat units. Except for a few short weeks during the Battle of the Bulge in the winter of 1944 when commanders were desperate for manpower, all U.S. soldiers served in strictly segregated units. Even the blood banks were segregated.</p>
<h2>‘A Breath of Freedom’</h2>
<p>After the defeat of the Nazi regime, an Army manual instructed U.S. occupation soldiers that America was the “living denial of Hitler’s absurd theories of a superior race,” and that it was up to them to teach the Germans “that the whole concept of superiority and intolerance of others is evil.” There was an obvious, deep gulf between this soaring rhetoric of democracy and racial harmony, and the stark reality of the Jim Crow army of occupation. It was also not lost on the Black soldiers.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/156254/original/image-20170209-8637-e0mz4x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/156254/original/image-20170209-8637-e0mz4x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=505&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/156254/original/image-20170209-8637-e0mz4x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=505&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/156254/original/image-20170209-8637-e0mz4x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=505&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/156254/original/image-20170209-8637-e0mz4x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=635&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/156254/original/image-20170209-8637-e0mz4x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=635&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/156254/original/image-20170209-8637-e0mz4x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=635&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Women’s Army Corps in Nuremberg, Germany, 1949.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Library of Congress</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Post-Nazi Germany was hardly a country free of racism. But for the Black soldiers, it was their first experience of a society without a formal Jim Crow <a href="https://vimeo.com/ondemand/breathoffreedom">color line</a>. Their uniform identified them as victorious warriors and as Americans, rather than “Negroes.” </p>
<p>Serving in labor and supply units, they had access to all the goods and provisions starving Germans living in the ruins of their country yearned for. African-American cultural expressions such as jazz, defamed and banned by the Nazis, were another reason so many Germans were drawn to their Black liberators. White America was stunned to see how much black GIs enjoyed their time abroad, and how much they dreaded their <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/5630897-the-last-of-the-conquerors">return home</a> to the U.S.</p>
<p>By 1947, when the Cold War was heating up, the reality of the segregated Jim Crow Army in Germany was becoming a major embarrassment for the U.S. government. The Soviet Union and East German communist propaganda relentlessly attacked the U.S. and challenged its claim to be the leader of the “free world.” Again and again, they would point to the segregated military in West Germany, and to Jim Crow segregation in the U.S. to make their case.</p>
<h2>Coming ‘home’</h2>
<p>Newly returned veterans, civil rights advocates and the Black press took advantage of that Cold War constellation. They evoked America’s mission of democracy in Germany to push for change at home. Responding to that pressure, the first institution of the U.S. to integrate was the U.S. military, made possible by Truman’s 1948 <a href="https://www.ourdocuments.gov/doc.php?flash=true&doc=84">Executive Order 9981</a>. That monumental step, in turn, paved the way for the 1954 Supreme Court decision in <a href="https://www.archives.gov/education/lessons/brown-v-board">Brown v. Board of Education</a>.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/156393/original/image-20170210-23316-1kb1z6y.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/156393/original/image-20170210-23316-1kb1z6y.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=407&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/156393/original/image-20170210-23316-1kb1z6y.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=407&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/156393/original/image-20170210-23316-1kb1z6y.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=407&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/156393/original/image-20170210-23316-1kb1z6y.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=511&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/156393/original/image-20170210-23316-1kb1z6y.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=511&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/156393/original/image-20170210-23316-1kb1z6y.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=511&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Hosea Williams, World War II Army veteran and civil rights activist, rallies demonstrators in Selma, Ala. 1965.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">AP Photo</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The veterans who had been abroad electrified and energized the larger struggle to make America live up to its promise of democracy and justice. They joined the NAACP in record numbers and founded new chapters of that organization in the South, despite a <a href="http://eji.org/reports/online/lynching-in-america-targeting-black-veterans">wave of violence against returning veterans</a>. The veterans of World War II and the Korean War became the foot soldiers of the civil rights movement in the 1950s and 1960s. Medgar Evers, Amzie Moore, Hosea Williams and Aaron Henry are some of the better-known names, but countless others helped advance the struggle. </p>
<p>About one-third of the leaders in the civil rights movement were veterans of World War II.</p>
<p>They fought for a better America in the streets of the South, at their workplaces in the North, as leaders in the NAACP, as plaintiffs before the Supreme Court and also within the U.S. military to make it a more inclusive institution. They were also the men of the hour at the 1963 March on Washington, when their military training and expertise was crucial to ensure that the day would not be marred by agitators opposed to civil rights. </p>
<p>“We structured the March on Washington like an army formation,” <a href="http://aacvr-germany.org/index.php/oral-histories-6?id=57">recalled</a> veteran Joe Hairston.</p>
<p>For these veterans, the 2009 and 2013 inaugurations of President Barack Obama were triumphant moments in their long struggle for a better America and a more just world. Many never thought they would live to see the day that an African-American would lead their country.</p>
<p><em>To learn more about the contributions of African-American GIs, visit “<a href="http://aacvr-germany.org/">The Civil Rights Struggle, African-American GIs, and Germany</a>” digital archive.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/71780/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Maria Höhn 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>When war broke out, Black Americans fought in segregated units to serve their country. The breath of freedom they experienced in Europe flamed the fight for equality when they returned home.Maria Höhn, Professor and Chair of History, Vassar CollegeLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/714552017-02-08T04:24:12Z2017-02-08T04:24:12ZHow Obama’s presidential campaign changed how Americans view black candidates<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/155997/original/image-20170208-9113-p3590h.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Barack Obama at a campaign stop in 2007.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">AP Photo/Nati Harnik</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>The relationship between black presidential candidates and potential voters is more complex than it is for their white opponents. My <a href="https://global.oup.com/academic/product/historic-firsts-9780199314188?q=evelyn%20simien&lang=en&cc=us">research</a> on historic “firsts” shows that white voters tend to ascribe characteristics to black candidates that place them at a disadvantage.</p>
<p>That’s why Barack Obama’s presidency became synonymous with an end goal of the civil rights movement and a source of pride for so many Americans. His campaign experience, like that of predecessors Shirley Chisholm and Jesse Jackson, suggests something about the extent to which African-Americans have gained acceptance as legitimate political actors.</p>
<p>Obama more easily mobilized white voters because he was less interested in challenging “the system,” and more ideologically liberal than his predecessors. He also adapted to the political environment, recognizing key voting constituencies. Obama pulled together the type of coalition that Chisholm and Jackson had aspired to lead, composed of college students, hard-core progressives, organized labor and independents.</p>
<p>His candidacy and victory continue to be celebrated as historic achievements to this day.</p>
<h2>Undeniably black</h2>
<p>Presidential <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/james-zogby/jesse-jackson-1984_b_4793293.html">campaigns</a> launched by Shirley Chisholm in 1972 and Jesse Jackson in 1984 were aimed at forging interracial alliances. However, each of these candidates failed to build a coalition of historically marginalized groups. Instead, their <a href="https://www.c-span.org/video/?325324-2/1972-shirley-chisholm-presidential-campaign-announcement">rhetoric</a> primarily appealed to African-American voters in locales where they comprised a majority, or near majority, of the population.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/6H6vazOz018?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">Jackson speaking at a rally during his 1984 run for president.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>As a result, they drew limited support from white voters. For example, by large margins, white voters <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/1988/06/13/us/jackson-share-of-votes-by-whites-triples-in-88.html">viewed Jackson</a> as less knowledgeable, less fair, less likely to care about people like them and more prejudiced than his white opponents Walter Mondale and Michael Dukakis.</p>
<p>Like Chisholm and Jackson, Obama’s candidacy in 2008 aroused fears, resentments and prejudices. </p>
<p>He was falsely accused of being a Muslim. Stereotypes were <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2008/07/13/yikes-controversial-emnew_n_112429.html">reinvented</a> and popular images reanimated and parodied in blogs, email, tweets and other social media outlets. T-shirts were printed with an <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/2009/feb/18/new-york-post-cartoon-race">image</a> of Curious George, a monkey from a well-known children’s book, inscribed with the words “Obama ’08,” comparing African-Americans to apes.</p>
<p>The Tea Party Movement, a conservative wing of the Republican Party, also <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/news/tea+party+obama/">orchestrated</a> a number of attacks on Obama’s patriotism, religious beliefs and citizenship status through protest rallies and social media. Obama’s racial iden tity and other personal traits remained a matter of public debate long after the general election.</p>
<p>Like his predecessors, Obama was perceived as <a href="http://www.nbcnews.com/id/22326360/ns/politics/t/mccain-assails-obama-lack-experience/#.WJkqFG8rKUk">lacking</a> leadership <a href="http://usatoday30.usatoday.com/news/washington/2007-01-16-obama-experience-cover_x.htm">experience</a>. He was viewed as less competent, less knowledgeable of foreign affairs and more concerned with racial issues like affirmative action and immigration reform.</p>
<p>Because he was undeniably black, he was seen as an “authentic” representative of the African-American electorate, not the entire American electorate. His campaign had to overcome this notion.</p>
<h2>Overcoming race</h2>
<p>Obama employed a race-neutral approach during his first presidential campaign. In his hallmark <a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/articles/A19751-2004Jul27.html">speech</a> at the 2004 DNC he said:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>“There’s not a liberal America and a conservative America, there is the United States of America. There is not a black America and a white America and Latino America and Asian America, there is the United States of America.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>His rhetoric aimed to satisfy diverse constituents across racial and ethnic groups. Obama used universal, color-blind language that appealed to most Americans.</p>
<p>He focused on quality-of-life issues, such as universal health care, equal educational opportunities and full employment for the lower and middle classes. Doing so increased the likelihood that more Americans would support his campaign. He was less interested in race-specific overtures that directly appealed to African-American voters. As I argue in <a href="https://global.oup.com/academic/product/historic-firsts-9780199314188?q=evelyn%20simien&lang=en&cc=us">my book</a>, “Historic Firsts: How Symbolic Empowerment Changes U.S. Politics,” Obama unified liberal white voters. </p>
<p>Still, pundits pondered whether a black man, elected by a white majority with support of African-American voters, represented a psychological, but not necessarily a substantive, triumph over race. </p>
<p>His predecessors Chisholm and Jackson had heavily relied on racial bloc voting and the stylistic influence of a Black Power tradition – “speaking truth to power,” dramatic confrontation and public spectacle – for electoral success. Obama was a successful candidate because he was neither righteous nor indignant. He ran a campaign that was racially and culturally inclusive.</p>
<p>Today, there is little question as to whether a black male politician at the top of a major party’s presidential ticket can transform beliefs about African-American men in politics. The outcome of the 2008 American presidential election shows that the majority of American voters are willing to vote for a black Democratic presidential candidate.</p>
<p>However, it is a certain type of black presidential candidate who will find it easier, and others more difficult, to gain white support.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/71455/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Evelyn M. Simien 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>Black politicians throughout US history have struggled to overcome deep, negative stereotypes held against them by white Americans. Obama succeeded at the highest level. Here’s how.Evelyn M. Simien, Associate Professor of Political Science and Africana Studies, University of ConnecticutLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/717552017-02-07T03:39:22Z2017-02-07T03:39:22ZWill Trump’s ‘color-blind’ pro-business policies help black entrepreneurs too?<p>A <a href="http://press.princeton.edu/titles/9211.html">growing body of research</a> has shown the power of entrepreneurship to help solve the economic problems of <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Immigrant-Entrepreneurs-Venturing-Abroad-Globalization/dp/1859736394">disadvantaged groups</a> such as women, immigrants and <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Ethnic-Enterprise-America-Business-Japanese/dp/0520024850">racial and ethnic minorities</a>. </p>
<p>This finding can be traced to a <a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B004A16GSU/ref=dp-kindle-redirect?_encoding=UTF8&btkr=1">longstanding vision</a> of entrepreneurship established by black Americans as a <a href="https://www.uncpress.org/browse/book_detail?title_id=1487">means of supporting their community</a> and overcoming discrimination. The tradition enjoys enduring popularity as contemporary <a href="http://onlineathens.com/stories/072201/new_0722010070.shtml#.WJDfU7GZOV4">social surveys</a> commonly report that more African-Americans regard self-employment as a desirable occupation than other racially defined groups.</p>
<p>Yet despite their commitment to entrepreneurship, blacks continue to have lower rates of self-employment than whites and other groups. The self-employment rate for unincorporated white-owned businesses was 6.9 percent in 2015, almost double the 3.6 percent for black-owned ones, according to the <a href="https://www.bls.gov/spotlight/2016/self-employment-in-the-united-states/pdf/self-employment-in-the-united-states.pdf">Bureau of Labor Statistics</a>. Moreover, black-owned businesses <a href="https://mitpress.mit.edu/sites/default/files/titles/content/9780262514941_sch_0001.pdf">tend to be smaller</a>, have fewer employees, generate less income and are generally less successful than those owned by whites. </p>
<p>Now that Republicans – who have long resisted efforts to pursue race-based policies aimed at supporting historically disadvantaged communities – control Congress and the White House, will those figures become even more lopsided as Donald Trump limits or ends affirmative action style policies that spurred big gains in the past? Or could “color-blind” pro-business policies such as reducing taxes and regulation lift all boats, including those of African-Americans, in equal measure? </p>
<p>To answer these questions, it helps to understand the reason black entrepreneurs are underrepresented in the first place. In a <a href="https://scholars.opb.msu.edu/en/publications/a-critical-race-theory-approach-to-black-american-entrepreneurshi">recent paper</a>, one of us (Gold) examined common explanations for why this is the case. </p>
<h2>Critical disadvantages</h2>
<p>While some researchers and pundits have, controversially, blamed a <a href="https://www.uncpress.org/book/9780807859100/the-history-of-black-business-in-america:-capitalism-race-entrepreneurship/?title_id=1487">lack of work ethic</a> or aptitude for the dearth of African-American entrepreneurs, such race or ethnicity-based explanations of human abilities have long been discredited in social science. More commonly, a broad consensus of research shows that a variety of race-based forms of discrimination and disadvantage have played a critical role in limiting blacks’ ability and opportunity to start their own businesses. </p>
<p>Even a century and a half after Abraham Lincoln freed the slaves, blacks continue to suffer a <a href="http://www.pewsocialtrends.org/2011/07/26/wealth-gaps-rise-to-record-highs-between-whites-blacks-hispanics/">wide range of disadvantages</a>. For example, blacks are commonly assigned lower credit ratings than whites who earn much less. Their neighborhoods are underserved by banks. In addition, black entrepreneurs are often excluded by racial barriers from networks that business owners rely on to get to know each other and exchange referrals, information and investment opportunities. </p>
<p>As of 2009, the <a href="http://iasp.brandeis.edu/pdfs/Author/shapiro-thomas-m/racialwealthgapbrief.pdf">average white family’s wealth</a> was US$113,000. In contrast, the average black family’s wealth was about $5,700. </p>
<p>This has meant that <a href="https://mitpress.mit.edu/sites/default/files/titles/content/9780262514941_sch_0001.pdf">blacks generally lack the resources</a>, such as investment capital, education and previous work experience, needed to achieve entrepreneurial success. </p>
<p>Based on these findings, government policies that sought to encourage the growth of black entrepreneurship have commonly done so via affirmative action <a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B000VXD9PE/ref=dp-kindle-redirect?_encoding=UTF8&btkr=1">to compensate</a> for this unique legacy. These included training and loan programs and requirements that government contracts reserve a fraction of work for minority-owned businesses. </p>
<h2>Affirmative action backlash</h2>
<p>However, affirmative action policies that allocate governmental benefits on the basis of race, ethnicity or gender have been controversial, to say the least. They have been attacked by conservative politicians with legislation, social movements and <a href="http://www.ncsl.org/research/education/affirmative-action-court-decisions.aspx">court decisions</a>. </p>
<p>Since the 1990s, the anti-affirmative action movement used state electoral initiatives to appeal directly to resentful white male voters – a group that became a key Trump constituency. The strategy led to the <a href="https://tcf.org/content/commentary/what-can-we-learn-from-states-that-ban-affirmative-action/">implementation of anti-affirmative action laws</a> in several of the country’s largest and most diverse states. From 1996 to 2010, California, Washington, Michigan, Nebraska and Arizona all passed such laws.</p>
<p>Among other factors, reductions in government and private sector support for minority entrepreneurship coincided with the decline in the number and <a href="https://www.bls.gov/opub/mlr/2010/09/art2full.pdf">profitability of black-owned businesses</a>.</p>
<p>Now that Trump occupies the White House and Republicans enjoy majorities in both the House and Senate, indications are that the new administration will withdraw support from affirmative action and other race-based policies that encourage black entrepreneurship. In 2015, candidate <a href="http://www.foxnews.com/transcript/2015/10/18/donald-trump-talks-taxes-trade-11-and-why-takes-personal-shots-at-political/">Trump asserted</a> that “I don’t think we need it (affirmative action) so much anymore.” </p>
<h2>Trump and black entrepreneurs</h2>
<p>So what does this mean for black self-employment?</p>
<p>For a start, it probably means African-Americans will no longer be able to access affirmative action policies to help them overcome their disadvantages in starting or running businesses. </p>
<p>On the other hand, however, black entrepreneurs may benefit from the Trump adminsitration’s promised creation of a social and economic climate conducive to business growth via pro-business policies such as lowering taxes and <a href="http://www.politico.com/story/2017/01/trump-signs-executive-order-requiring-that-for-every-one-new-regulation-two-must-be-revoked-234365">reducing regulations</a>. In addition, Trump aims to invest extensively in <a href="https://www.donaldjtrump.com/policies/an-americas-infrastructure-first-plan">infrastructure spending</a> and <a href="http://money.cnn.com/2017/01/27/news/trump-manufacturing-jobs-initiative/">revitalize American manufacturing</a>. </p>
<p>At least in theory, these pro-business policies could benefit black entrepreneurs – alongside everyone else. Infrastructure investments and boosting manufacturing may be significantly beneficial to African-American entrepreneurs, especially if such contracts are distributed in a manner that matches these entrepreneurs’ skills and abilities. Historically, African-Americans have been active in manufacturing, albeit as workers rather than business owners. However, given their familiarity with this industry, the growth of manufacturing might yield special benefits.</p>
<p>Of course, the potential benefits received by black entrepreneurs under Trump’s economic policies depend on how these activities are organized and funds allocated. For example, will small businesses get a generous share of the contracts compared with large companies, few of which are owned by African-Americans? (<a href="http://blackdemographics.com/economics/black-owned-businesses/">Virtually all</a> black-owned businesses are small in size.) </p>
<h2>A test of ‘color-blind’ policies</h2>
<p>All in all, this will be a test of whether the benefits of pro-business policies that don’t favor a particular group or race end up boosting black economic activity. Historically, as the data show, this has not been the case thanks to the legacy of discrimination, from slavery to Jim Crow to <a href="https://mitpress.mit.edu/sites/default/files/titles/content/9780262514941_sch_0001.pdf">modern-day prejudices</a> in the financial system. </p>
<p>If the pro-business environment is set up in a way that facilitates the growth of black entrepreneurship, the benefits of these policies should be evident in due time. Results could then support the virtuous circle that leads to increased earnings in black communities, which in turn spurs greater patronage of and investment in other black-owned businesses. </p>
<p>However, if entrepreneurial growth is negligible, then we may conclude that pro-business policies of the sort that were created by the Trump administration are insufficient to allow for the fulfillment of African-Americans’ longstanding desire to create a viable business community.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/71755/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Steven J. Gold has received funding from the Aspen Foundation, Michigan State University, Wilstein Institute, American Sociological Association/National Science Foundation , Haynes Foundation, Ripon Educational Fund, Whizin Institute</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Jeffrey R. Oliver 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>Despite an entrepreneurial heritage, black self-employment rates are about half that of whites. Could a rising economy lift their boats too?Steven J. Gold, Professor of Sociology, Michigan State UniversityJeffrey R. Oliver, Visiting Assistant Professor, Michigan State UniversityLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/689612017-01-09T01:32:56Z2017-01-09T01:32:56ZChicago 1969: When Black Panthers aligned with Confederate-flag-wielding, working-class whites<p><em>Editor’s note: This article was published on Jan. 8, 2017.</em></p>
<p>In the 2016 presidential election, Donald Trump won the white vote across all demographics except for college-educated white women. He did especially well among working class white voters: <a href="http://college.usatoday.com/2016/11/09/how-we-voted-by-age-education-race-and-sexual-orientation/">67 percent of whites without a college degree voted for him</a>. </p>
<p>Some post-election analysis marveled at how the <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/why-the-white-working-class-votes-against-itself/2016/12/22/3aa65c04-c88b-11e6-8bee-54e800ef2a63_story.html">white working class could vote against its own interests</a> by supporting a billionaire businessman who is likely to support policies that cut taxes for the rich and weaken the country’s social safety net. Since the New Deal, <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2016/jul/28/hillary-clinton-donald-trump-voters-republicans-democrats">the Democratic Party has been seen as the party of working people</a>, while Republicans were considered the party of the elites. Donald Trump was able to flip this narrative to his advantage. Election 2016 balkanized issues and made it seem impossible to work on racism, sexism, poverty and economic issues all at once. A core question moving forward for social justice advocates and the Democratic Party <a href="http://www.politico.com/magazine/story/2016/12/how-democrats-rebuild-2016-214533">is how they can move beyond identity politics and attract working-class voters of all races</a>, building stronger coalitions among disparate groups. </p>
<p>One place to look for inspiration and instruction might be 1960s social movements that understood the power of alliances across identities and issues. During this period, a radical coalition formed that might seem impossible today: A group of migrant southerners and working-class white activists called the Young Patriots joined forces with the Black Panthers in Chicago to fight systemic class oppression. </p>
<p>So how did this alliance form? And how can its lessons be applied to today’s political moment?</p>
<h2>An unlikely alliance</h2>
<p>In the post-civil rights era, a militant Black Power movement emerged, with the Black Panther Party for Self Defense <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/27-important-facts-everyone-should-know-about-the-black-panthers_us_56c4d853e4b08ffac1276462">forming in 1966</a>. Inspired by Malcolm X and other international black thought leaders, the group embraced armed struggle as a potential tool against organized racial oppression – a radical break from the philosophy of nonviolent protest. A large faction of the group developed in Chicago, where one of the party leaders was a young man named <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/black-panther-fred-hampton_us_55e8929ce4b0aec9f3569514">Fred Hampton</a>. </p>
<p>Chicago in the 1960s was a brutal place for poor people. Black, brown and white people all dealt with poverty, unemployment, police violence, substandard housing, inadequate schools and a lack of social services. Ethnic and racial groups each <a href="http://www.chicagotribune.com/entertainment/music/ct-young-patriots-organization-hideout-jon-langford-ent-0209-20160208-column.html">created their own social service and activist networks</a> to combat every kind of oppression. </p>
<p>One was the Young Patriot Organization (YPO), which was based in <a href="http://www.redneckrevolt.org/single-post/2016/09/24/Revolutionary-Hillbilly-An-Interview-with-Hy-Thurman-of-the-Young-Patriots-Organization">Hillbilly Harlem</a>, an uptown neighborhood of Chicago populated by displaced white southerners. Many YPO members were racist, and they flaunted controversial symbols associated with southern pride, such as the Confederate flag. But like blacks and Latinos, the white Young Patriots and their families experienced discrimination in Chicago. In their case, it was because they were poor and from the South.</p>
<p>In his short time as a Black Panther leader, Fred Hampton wanted to advance the group’s goals by forming a “Rainbow Coalition” of working class and poor people of all races. </p>
<p>Former members of the Chicago Panthers and YPO tell different versions of the same story of how the groups connected: Each attended the other’s organizing meetings and decided to work together on their common issues. Over time, the Black Panthers learned to tolerate Confederate flags as intransigent signs for rebellion. Their only stipulation was that the white Young Patriots denounce racism.</p>
<p>Eventually, Young Patriots rejected their deeply embedded ideas of white supremacy – <a href="http://www.redneckrevolt.org/single-post/2016/09/24/Revolutionary-Hillbilly-An-Interview-with-Hy-Thurman-of-the-Young-Patriots-Organization">and even the Confederate flag</a> – as they realized how much they had in common with the Black Panthers and Latino Young Lords. </p>
<p>Assumed to be natural enemies, these groups united in their calls for economic justice. In the Aug. 9, 1969 issue of The Black Panther newspaper, the party’s chief of staff, David Hilliard, <a href="https://www.marxists.org/history/erol/ncm-1/sds-bpp-2.htm">admiringly called the Young Patriots</a> “the only revolutionaries we respect that ever came out of the mother country.” Recalling his work with the YPO, former Black Panther Bobby Lee <a href="http://www.redneckrevolt.org/single-post/2009/12/05/YOUNG-PATRIOTS-AND-PANTHERS-A-STORY-OF-WHITE-ANTIRACISM">explained</a> that “The Rainbow Coalition was just a code word for class struggle.”</p>
<p>In the end, the Illinois Panthers <a href="http://www.tikkun.org/nextgen/the-original-rainbow-coalition-an-example-of-universal-identity-politics">brought together various elements</a> of the black community, Confederate flag-waving southern white migrants (Young Patriots), Puerto Ricans (Young Lords), poor white ethnic groups (Rising Up Angry, JOIN Community Union, and the Intercommunal Survival Committee), students and the women’s movement. The disparate groups under the coalition’s umbrella pooled resources and shared strategies for providing community services and aid that the government and private sector would not. <a href="http://www.chicagotribune.com/entertainment/music/ct-young-patriots-organization-hideout-jon-langford-ent-0209-20160208-column.html">Initiatives included</a> health clinics, feeding homeless and hungry people, and legal advice for those dealing with unethical landlords and police brutality. </p>
<h2>In 2016, a stark racial divide is exposed</h2>
<p>Almost 50 years after the original Rainbow Coalition, the U.S. electorate remains divided along racial lines. Even though Donald Trump <a href="http://www.cnn.com/2016/08/19/politics/donald-trump-african-american-voters/">asked black Americans</a>, “What do you have to lose?” by voting for him and abandoning the Democratic Party, it didn’t work: Only 8 percent of black voters (and 28 percent of Latino and 27 percent of Asian voters) <a href="http://www.cnn.com/election/results/exit-polls">cast ballots for Trump</a>. Blacks and Latinos are well-represented in the working class, and people of color <a href="http://www.epi.org/publication/the-changing-demographics-of-americas-working-class/">will become the majority in the working class in 2032</a>. </p>
<p>Much 2016 post-election attention has focused on <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2016/11/10/upshot/why-trump-won-working-class-whites.html?_r=0">working-class white voters</a>, who have been characterized as “forgotten” and “angry” for being left out of the economic recovery. Yet African-Americans have been far worse off; since the 2007 recession, the unemployment rate of African-Americans is <a href="http://myjournalcourier.com/news/103764/editorial-below-surface-lies-a-disparity-in-joblessness">nearly double that of Hispanics and more than twice that of whites</a>.</p>
<p>Hillary Clinton was the candidate who collected the most diverse voter base – the 2016 Democratic National Convention in Philadelphia looked like the Rainbow Coalition redux – and she was expected to win the election. However, that visual hid racism’s <a href="http://billmoyers.com/story/2016-election-exposed-deep-seated-racism-go/">residual and deeply entrenched place in U.S. society</a>. One of the lessons of the 2016 election is that the country is not as advanced in its work on ending racism and discrimination as most would like to believe. Donald Trump did not have to do much to capitalize on this. </p>
<p>The Rainbow Coalition members in 1960s Chicago understood how difficult it is to build coalitions across identities. Former Black Panther Bobby Lee <a href="http://www.redneckrevolt.org/single-post/2009/12/05/YOUNG-PATRIOTS-AND-PANTHERS-A-STORY-OF-WHITE-ANTIRACISM">recalled working with the Young Patriots</a>: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>“It wasn’t easy to build an alliance. I advised them on how to set up ‘serve the people’ programs – free breakfasts, people’s health clinics, all that. I had to run with those cats, break bread with them, hang out at the pool hall. I had to lay down on their couch, in their neighborhood. Then I had to invite them into mine. That was how the Rainbow Coalition was built, real slow.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>The coalition, bringing together seemingly polar opposite Black Panthers and Young Patriots, showed that real interactions allow people to understand that their struggles are not essentially different. Donald Trump probably was sincere when he invited African-Americans to join his movement. He simply didn’t realize that a glib invitation would not produce the same results as real coalition-building over a period of time. </p>
<p>The lesson to learn from studying 1960s social movements is that lasting change toward economic and racial justice will probably be built brick by brick, person to person and “real slow.”</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/68961/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Colette Gaiter 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>In this article from 2017, a look at the coordination of strategy between white and Black activists to fight systemic class oppression.Colette Gaiter, Professor, Department of Africana Studies and Department of Art & Design, University of DelawareLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/689382016-11-29T12:01:04Z2016-11-29T12:01:04ZRosa Parks and Rob Williams sparked a revolution against racism – but has the US squandered their legacy?<p>After a long day at work, 42-year-old black seamstress <a href="http://www.history.com/topics/black-history/rosa-parks">Rosa Parks</a> boarded a bus in Montgomery, Alabama. She went to the back and took a seat in the section designated for black (“colored”) people. Rosa’s subsequent refusal to give up her seat to a white passenger, as demanded by the white bus driver, resulted in her being arrested, tried and convicted for civil disobedience.</p>
<p>That was 1955, and December 1 marks the anniversary of that small yet monumental act by Rosa. Her actions led to a year-long <a href="http://www.history.com/topics/black-history/montgomery-bus-boycott">bus boycott by Montgomery’s black residents</a> and – ultimately – the US Supreme Court ruling that bus segregation was unconstitutional. </p>
<p>Meanwhile, in 1956, less than a year after Parks triggered the Montgomery bus boycott, <a href="http://www.pbs.org/independentlens/negroeswithguns/rob.html">Rob Williams</a> took over the leadership of the Monroe (North Carolina) chapter of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP). Significantly, he was the first civil rights leader to advocate against non-violence. </p>
<p>In 1959, after a jury in Monroe aquitted a white man of the attempted rape of a black woman, Williams pronounced on the court steps:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>It is time for Negro men to stand up and be men and if it is necessary for us to die we must be willing to die. If it is necessary for us to kill we must be willing to kill.</p>
</blockquote>
<h2>Civil Rights legacy</h2>
<p>The civil rights movement which Parks, who died in 2005, helped kickstart led to great change in US society through the dismantling of <a href="http://www.crf-usa.org/black-history-month/a-brief-history-of-jim-crow">Jim Crow</a> (racial segregation) laws. She went on to become an iconic figure renowned throughout the world as a pioneer of the freedom of movement. </p>
<p>In comparison, Williams’ story has largely been erased from history. His insistence that <a href="https://books.google.co.uk/books/about/Negroes_with_Guns.html?id=i4YiA0jWz4EC&redir_esc=y">black people bear arms</a> in order to defend themselves against violent racism led to his falling out of favour with the national leadership of the NAACP. On the run from the FBI between 1961 and 1969, Williams found himself in exile at the height of the struggle, first in Cuba and then China. </p>
<p>Williams returned to the US in 1969, at which point all federal charges against him by the government had been dropped. Rather than assume the leadership of the Black Power movement, Williams (who died in 1996) instead opted for a new career as an academic in Chinese Studies. </p>
<p>Significantly, the legacy of Parks and Williams for black communities and their demands for racial justice resulted in new opportunities amid unprecedented global shifts. Moreover, they challenge us to take a closer look at the political heirs to the lady on the bus and the uncompromising black man. </p>
<h2>Postindustrial black ghetto</h2>
<p>Since the 1970s, the US black population has been characterised by an affluent and <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2016/02/07/education/edlife/black-america-and-the-class-divide.html">growing middle class</a>. This is both a legacy of, and an enduring testament to, the hard fought achievements of the civil rights movement. But the existence of a large and expanding black urban underclass attests to the disproportionate impact of globalisation during the past half century. </p>
<p>Historically, the black American ghetto comprised the <a href="http://press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/T/bo13375722.html">working poor and a small middle class</a>. However, <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/1045646?seq=1#page_scan_tab_contents">deindustrialisation</a> and <a href="http://www.polity.co.uk/book.asp?ref=9780745631257">hyperghettoisation</a> transformed these neighbourhoods into enclaves of extreme poverty, joblessness and welfare dependency. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/147759/original/image-20161128-22727-6km1rc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/147759/original/image-20161128-22727-6km1rc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=392&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/147759/original/image-20161128-22727-6km1rc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=392&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/147759/original/image-20161128-22727-6km1rc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=392&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/147759/original/image-20161128-22727-6km1rc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=492&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/147759/original/image-20161128-22727-6km1rc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=492&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/147759/original/image-20161128-22727-6km1rc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=492&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The bus on which Rosa Parks refused to give up her seat.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=3152874">Photo by rmhermen</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/">CC BY-SA</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>By the 1980s, heavy industry had all but disappeared in America’s black metropolises, creating huge armies of <a href="http://ann.sagepub.com/content/501/1/26.short?rss=1&ssource=mfc">jobless and impoverished young men</a>. The surge in demand for crack cocaine during the mid 1980s and early 1990s provided much needed economic opportunities. But this also led to alarming increases in the rates of <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Pipe-Dream-Blues-Racism-Drugs/dp/0896084108/ref=la_B001HPQK4M_1_3?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1479860890&sr=1-3">addiction and imprisonment</a> in black ghetto neighbourhoods.</p>
<h2>Criminalisation of poverty</h2>
<p>For the last four decades, poor black communities have also had to contend with the <a href="http://www.press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/C/bo4092002.html">“punitive turn”</a> of social policy. Federal government, through legislation and increased spending, led on tackling racial inequality during the civil rights era. But by the 1980s and 1990s, welfare reform and tough law and order had become the twin obsessions of US domestic policymakers. The Reagan and Clinton administrations’ war on drugs and urban crime has, according to law professor civil rights advocate <a href="http://newjimcrow.com/">Michelle Alexander</a>, created the “New Jim Crow”. </p>
<p>An array of local, state and federal laws targeting drug crimes has led to a prison crisis among young black males. In 1980, the US prison population stood at about 500,000. By 2008, the total number of people imprisoned had quadrupled to 2.3m – almost <a href="http://www.naacp.org/criminal-justice-fact-sheet/">50% of them black</a>. </p>
<p>Alongside the problem of mass incarceration are the toxic issues of police racism and brutality. Nearly 40 years of “tough on crime” policies have created a national policing culture in which rampant racial profiling and <a href="http://europe.newsweek.com/stop-and-frisk-philadelphia-crisis-reform-police-460951?rm=eu">stop and frisks</a> without basis have become the norm. Meanwhile, the weapons and tactics deployed by law enforcement agencies in poor black neighbourhoods have become increasingly <a href="http://www.alternet.org/civil-liberties/11-shocking-facts-about-americas-militarized-police-forces">warlike</a> in both appearance and design. </p>
<h2>A new civil rights era</h2>
<p>Globalisation and the neoliberal domestic agenda have eroded some of the gains of the civil rights era. As the mass incarceration rates and incidences of <a href="http://mappingpoliceviolence.org/unarmed/">lethal police violence</a> indicate, the criminal justice arena is now the main battlefield in the fight against this “New Jim Crow”.</p>
<p>Today, we’re seeing a resurgent “new civil rights movement” with <a href="http://blacklivesmatter.com/">Black Lives Matter</a> dominating the narrative. However, the legacies of Parks and Williams remind us that black movements for social justice have always been, and continue to be, contested sites of political resistance. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/147761/original/image-20161128-22729-4oqi3r.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/147761/original/image-20161128-22729-4oqi3r.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=377&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/147761/original/image-20161128-22729-4oqi3r.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=377&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/147761/original/image-20161128-22729-4oqi3r.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=377&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/147761/original/image-20161128-22729-4oqi3r.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=474&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/147761/original/image-20161128-22729-4oqi3r.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=474&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/147761/original/image-20161128-22729-4oqi3r.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=474&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Baltimore: still divided.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/download/confirm/215821633?src=JlCGqfWG6O9Yb7JwZtYZxA-1-14&id=215821633&size=medium_jpg">Shutterstock</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>There are a multitude of black community-based groups and online protest movements concerned with bringing about social change in the US. They include nonviolent organisations such as Baltimore’s <a href="https://twitter.com/300menmarch?lang=en">300 Men March</a> movement, <a href="http://www.2020club.org/ABOUT">2020</a> Leaders of America, <a href="http://www.joincampaignzero.org/#vision">Camapaign Zero</a>, and the more radical <a href="https://thinkprogress.org/we-will-shoot-back-meet-the-black-activists-who-aren-t-ready-to-forgive-d53101387c31#.7iprcx3sk">#WeWillShootBack</a> and <a href="http://www.cbpm.org/nbpp.html">New Black Panther Party</a>. </p>
<p>While not as well chronicled as those political programmes focusing on racial integration, black separatist ideologies also have a long history within the US. The New Black Panther Party has a claim to a lineage that predates modern civil rights and nationalist leaders such as Malcolm X and Stokely Carmichael. Its intellectual and <a href="http://nyupress.org/books/9780814755334/">ideological legacy</a> goes through Marcus Garvey in the 1920s, right back to the late 1700s. </p>
<p>Consequently, these new movements are more than just alternatives to Black Lives Matter. They are also a continuation of the longstanding parallel and competing struggles for integration and black nationalism in America.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/68938/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Anthony Gunter 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>How far we’ve really come since two very different individuals took a stand against racism 60 years ago.Anthony Gunter, Principal Lecturer in Criminology, University of East LondonLicensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.