Racial Problems in Society and in the Classroom

Excerpted (pp. 98-102) from Racial Problems in Society and in the Classroom Castellano B. Turner

Achieving Against the Odds: How Academics Become Teachers of Diverse Students
Esther Kingston-Mann and Tim Sieber, Eds.
Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 2001

I have also taught two courses specifically focused on issues of race and culture. The first, which I began teaching fifteen years ago at both the undergraduate and graduate levels, is called "The Psychology of Cross-Cultural Relations." In recent years I have also supervised advanced graduate students in teaching the course to undergraduates. As originally designed this was a multidisciplinary course, in which materials from history, sociology, political science, economics, and anthropology were joined with a psychological perspective on cross-cultural and cross-racial relations. Among the themes that invariably arose from the readings and discussions were: cultural invasion, domination, oppression, and ethnic stratification. Both white and black students typically had little difficulty understanding these processes in historical terms. On the other hand, for white students to perceive these processes as they related to current social structural arrangements was more difficult. Students in general found this type of analysis both difficult and irrelevant to their lives and interests. The first few times I taught the course to undergraduates I discovered that some had signed up thinking that a course on cross-cultural relations was about inter-ethnic dating and mating! Perhaps the title was ambiguous, but how could they imagine that I would teach something about their real-life and age-appropriate concerns!

I had made a fundamental pedagogical error: I expected the students to meet me were I was, presenting abstractions, such as stratification and domination, rather than meeting students where they were - struggling with the developmental transition from family into the larger world of intimacy and of getting along with others. As I expected they were animated and involved when they shared their observations about "mixed marriages" and disagreement between different racial groups in the dormitories. Gradually, and especially after the graduate students began teaching the undergraduate version, the course took on a more participatory format and began to emphasize personal experiences. When students see themselves as agents within an interpersonal encounter, they become more open to accepting the general dynamics of intergroup relations, especially in terms of power. In owning their ethnic/cultural backgrounds and discovering those of others they seem more willing to lower the barrier to authentic encounter. This makes it more possible to discuss issues of stratification, and to understand how seeing the world from a position of privilege may differ from the perspective of a person who is marginalized.

The second course was designed specifically as a graduate course in "Clinical Psychology: Culture and Mental Health." This is a required course in a program which emphasizes social-cultural context in understanding normal and abnormal human development. The students are from diverse racial and cultural backgrounds, and they are chosen because, in part, they share the faculty's belief that social and cultural context are important in understanding psychological disorder and its amelioration. I have taught the course for seven years, and each time the experience has been somewhat different.

In such a small group (usually 8 but ranging from 6 to 12 students) variations in group composition are important. The difference, for instance, between having one and two African American students in a class is remarkable. The single African American is invariably viewed as the exemplar, the spokesperson, the exception, and even the target of unacknowledged resentments from white students and faculty. The "singleton" carries the full burden of stated or implied assumptions that s/he was accepted without adequate credentials and in order to fill a racial quota. On the other hand, when students of color make up half of a class, a subtle tension is present. Everyone seems to experience pressure to choose sides. A white student may complain of feeling like the "outsider" when all of the other students (including other white students) are sharing personal feelings about racial and ethnic identity. Among the most common problems in this course is that some students have real difficulty seeing themselves in racial/ethnic/cultural terms. While other people are "ethnics" or "racial minorities," they themselves are simply American, middle class, without culture, "white bread." Fortunately, it is rare for a student to refuse to explore previously hidden aspects of their personal identity. I have learned much about race, ethnicity, and culture by witnessing students' stories and self discoveries. For example, my first real understanding of problems of acculturation came from students who related stories about being caught between parents demanding the maintenance of the traditional culture and friends pressuring conformity to American peer culture.

My own place in the dynamics of this class is complex. I have based this course on several premises. First, that it is important for helping professionals to become competent to work with individuals from diverse social and cultural backgrounds. Second, in spite of much theory and some research to the contrary, I believe that it is possible for people from different racial/ethnic groups to work together in productive therapeutic alliances. Third, as in any sphere of competence, I believe that becoming an adequate therapeutic agent requires effort, training, and practice.

Using a modification of the public health model of change, I consider three elements important in therapy training: knowledge, attitude, and practice (of skills or behavior). Many students wish to jump over the first two. They want to be told or shown "how to." They reason that knowledge never will be adequate since we cannot know about all the groups we might encounter, and erroneously conclude: "Why bother?" Attitude change is particularly resisted, although in my view it is the most important element. It is a paradox that attitude change, although an essential element of learning, cannot be made the goal or content of academic instruction. But a pedagogy that allows students to observe and appreciate the changes in themselves and others is clearly desirable.

Students typically believe that their attitudes are "just fine, thank you." They are, after all, good people who want to help those in distress--without regard to race, creed, religion, color, sex, sexual orientation, disability, or national origin. Revealing, exploring, or discovering their own attitudes puts a threatening burden on them. Fortunately, these are burdens that students can and do handle. They are good people, and given our help and expectations for growth beyond mere skills, they do become better able to provide appropriate services.

Some years ago, early in the semester of this course, two black women complained to me that they were upset by several things happening in class. They felt most aggrieved by white students repeatedly addressing each of them by the other one's name. I suggested that bringing their feelings up in the class might occasion a learning experience for everyone--"Just what we are there for." They did, and they explained to their classmates that such mistakes disturbed them because they harked back to the notion that whites think "all black people look alike" and that blacks do not deserve the respect of their own names. I did not expect the defensiveness from white students that followed: "You are being too sensitive"; "That's a natural mistake"; and "I've never been good at names." More disturbing to me were the comments directed to one of the black students: "I consider you distant, arrogant, and condescending," and "You addressed me by the wrong name once too." Finally, most disturbing was: "I have many friends (relatives, etc.) who are black (person of color)"; "I resent being thought of as a racist"; and "Some things you have said in class suggest to me that you are homophobic." The black students responded with defensiveness themselves and then brought forth their whole litany of complaints against the white students, who responded in kind.

The discussion deteriorated into an exchange of accusations. I suggested that the class might want to plan one whole day just to work this through. They agreed, we met, and it turned into an extended period of the same destructive process. My exhortations to share honest feelings and to listen to each other undefensively went nowhere. By the end of the meeting everyone had expressed feelings but there was little evidence of listening. I tried to put as positive a face on this failure as I could, suggesting that each person take responsibility to work it through with others. They never did. Instead, several of the students came to me to complain in private or to report some other malfeasance of an antagonist.

Over the years that followed I was aware that the conflicts that began in that class continued to fester and emerge repeatedly in this particular cohort of students. I had always felt that what had happened was my fault. I did not, however, understand my failure fully until years later when members of the group took another course with me. The two black students made it clear that they had been disappointed in my lack of support for them. The white students said they felt that I had both favored the black students in the conflict and had given preferential treatment to them over the years. More significantly, I was made to understand for the first time that the defensiveness in everyone arose out of my presence. They did not want to be labeled white/black racists (or any other kind of bigot) in front of the instructor, who was also the director of their program. The resulting threat had led to their defensiveness. I had not acknowledged this obvious possibility. I had not, for that matter, noticed or noted that I was in the classroom. I had simply been mystified and frustrated by their defensiveness and lack of empathy for each other. If I had invited them to express their fears about what I thought, they might have felt safe enough to acknowledge those fears, and we might have been able to work them through.

So what complicates my role in the classroom? I am the instructor. I am an African American. The students see me both as an authority and as the personification of a set of stereotypes. Students of color tend to expect a champion of their perspectives. White students may believe that I will use my authority to push unwanted change on them. I have my own agenda, my perspective, my ideals, and my own defensiveness. These several perspectives are not so much complications as reflections of reality. We have all met in the classroom and we have indeed brought our selves. The country's drama of race is played out there.

Over the last few years, with the help of colleagues facing similar questions and problems, I have been able to face that reality more completely. I believe that I have a much better sense now of how an African American instructor's presence might make a difference. Fortunately, my realization has not led me to either ignore or run away from the racial dynamics of the classroom. In recent courses (one team taught with a white colleague) I have tried to be even more present, more personally available in the classroom, and more receptive to the individual perspectives of my students. This has not always been easy, and the results have sometimes left me distressed, but I believe that it is the correct way for me as a teacher and as a person. I believe that it will be correct for the students as well.

Go to menu