Sorority racism

The recent conflicts  in the US over race have involved a confused mix of two very different strands, one old and one new. The protests over the shooting of Black youths in Ferguson and elsewhere are of an unfortunately old kind: a struggle for equal rights and equal treatment before the law. This was the core of the Civil Rights movements of the 1960s that brought down the Jim Crow framework, equalized access to the vote, won formal rights in job and housing markets. Whites who have long seen themselves as allies in the battle for equal rights are quick to support protesters in this new conflict. But when Blacks protest the name of the Woodrow Wilson School at Princeton, or the quality of the food at Oberlin, or the nature of Hallowe’een costumes at Yale; when they talk of “privilege” and “safe spaces” -- they are entering another arena entirely. Long-time White allies, who have marched and fought for civil rights, feel alienated, often angry. They are excluded; their good will in the fight for equality seems no longer to count. The Black demands seem to them petty -- how can “micro-aggressions” like bad food be put in the same league as Black lives at risk on the streets? These protesters have gained admittance to elite universities, they have won the battle for that right: why are they still complaining?

This is what Chris Rock, at the 2016 Oscar ceremony, called “sorority racism”:

”Is Hollywood racist? You're damn right Hollywood is racist. Is it 'burning cross' racist? No. Is it 'fetch me some lemonade' racist? No. It's just the [racism] that you've grown accustomed to. It's sorority racist. It's like, 'We like you, Wanda, but you're not a Kappa.'”

The new issues, though they sometimes adopt the language of “rights”, are not about rights. Everyone has a right to be treated according to the law, but no one has a right to name a building or determine food choices. The more telling and accurate word, widely used in these protests, is “comfort”. Blacks are demanding to feel comfortable, accepted, included.

This seems petty only to people who themselves feel comfortable. But we can all put ourselves in this situation: you become a member of a group, but you don’t really know the rules, you don’t know how to win respect, you are afraid of making a mistake that will make everyone laugh at you. It’s a severely crippling experience. Most of us say as little as possible. We would like to be invisible. We keep our opinions to ourselves. We self-censor.

There is now a large body of research showing the long-term damage. Students who feel uncomfortable perform less well. Employees who feel uncomfortable do not contribute as much.  In boards of directors of major companies, new members from formerly excluded groups -- women and minorities -- feel uncomfortable and so don’t speak their minds. These lead quickly to vicious circles: the students, the employees, the board members confirm the old suspicions that they are not as good. And then it doesn’t matter what rights they have: they are back in their old position at the bottom of the status hierarchy, unheard.

If we want to include new groups in our community, they have to feel comfortable. And it is always a messy process, because to feel comfortable they have to violate the unspoken rules of the existing in-group. They must have the space to be “off”, different, not quite fitting in. They are necessarily going to say things that we, the Whites who have set the rules of civil dialogue, find strange and offensive, that we don’t “get”.

We’re into a new phase. Equal rights have been achieved in many arenas, but that is simply not enough for citizenship in today’s society. We need equal inclusion, which has been achieved almost nowhere. That will take a lot of work, a lot of humility, a lot of misunderstanding and overcoming of misunderstanding.