cultural sensitivity 101

a perennial struggle of mine has made its way to the forefront.  it was a non-issue at my previous job since there was no pretense of accommodating anything other than white, english-only privilege (and i survived that job the best i could by laying low and generating change in the places where possible--i.e i was, for the most part, a coward).  i made my escape and the new job, thankfully, started with a retreat for folks in education.  awesome to work with an administration that recognizes the need for an induction that touches on the history of education in this area (cultural genocide and institutionalized racism) and then sets it up so that those that direct the workshop are indigenous leaders.  brilliant, right?

i loved the workshop.  loved networking, loved learning more about this area, loved sharing my experience and loved getting on my soapbox about how important this is, how when i grew up in alaska we didn't learn any of this and we should have and how present racism is here and how much work there is to do.  

but i suck at engaging with people who don't get it.  the people who ask annoying, clueless questions or get stuck focusing on cultural differences (i tried to write some examples but i can't, not without mocking).  i am a harsh judge of my peers who i perceive as slow to recognize the urgent need to engage with this, folks who still use phrases like "melting pot" in a positive way, folks blind to their own privilege.  folks who, if i'm being fair, are for the most part genuinely interested in the kids they work with and who are good folk.  i'm not talking about the out-and-out racists, or assholes, i'm just talking about people who are slow to get it.

and so i disengage from those people.  but i realized this week that i leave the work for someone else.  usually the same workshop leaders.  like they don't have enough to do already.  so i'm lazy.  but there's more to it: i'm disgusted in some way by these people.  i think, "why didn't they get this already?"  "how come they don't know their privilege?" "how can they ask these clueless, insulting questions?" 

i want to become better at this.  their questions were my questions, their privilege a reflection of my own, their racism is mine.  i feel bad that i had an opportunity this week and i missed it.

august 2012.

somehow it all worked out.

we're home, i have a permanent job and it's a perfect fit for us (well, the housing could be cheaper...)  i don't know how that happened but i'm super grateful.

it's been two months of crazy though, between 3 different urban areas, two photo assignments (yeah, not my usual thing, and i still haven't delivered the photos from my cousin's wedding MORE THAN A MONTH AGO!!)  lots of transition for the little guy who, being very social, loves to ask strangers "do you have a house?" and then reply with "well, we don't have a house. we live in a tent." followed by a whole lot more personal information that i secretly hope is unintelligible.

in the midst of all that crazy i'll catch myself, when we're out or i'm driving some amazing marine corridor, and think "fuck it's beautiful. we made it home. i can't believe how lucky we are."