Tag: racism

Doing the Work During Black History Month

I was nine or ten years old when I met Larry.

He was younger than me by a few years but I remember being struck by how small he was. I think he was only six, but I was still surprised that the top of his head barely reached my shoulders. He had a short buzz cut, within a centimeter or two of his scalp, a toothy smile and significant difficulty pronouncing the letter “L,” which meant that I spent a good ten to fifteen minutes wondering what kind of parents would name their son Warry. He lived up the block from me in a small, freestanding house with his parents and older brother.

He was also the first black child I remember meeting. Continue reading “Doing the Work During Black History Month”

Starting a Relationship as a Well-Meaning White Man

He sat cross-legged on top of the mattress, his back leaning against the wall behind him. Even seated, I could tell that he was tall and athletic. He hardly had the frame of a bodybuilder but his late-teenage muscles were still noticeable under his loose fitting t-shirt. His eyes followed me, expressionless, as I entered the living room and accepted his mother’s invitation to sit on the small couch opposite him. His mother sat on the other bed for our conversation – it was hardly the first home I had visited that had two beds in the living room – and began telling me about her experiences raising her son over the last few years.

I kept glancing back at the young man as his mother and I spoke. I asked him all of the usual questions – What was therapy like? What’s worked for you and what hasn’t? How do you get along with your peers at school? – and received the usual one- or two-word answers. His mother supplemented his responses, as mothers often do, but I made sure to look back at the young man frequently as I listened.

It was his life, after all. Continue reading “Starting a Relationship as a Well-Meaning White Man”

How Do I “Do Diversity Right?”

“It didn’t even seem like they noticed,” she said to me.

We had just finished putting our apartment back in order after some friends had spent the late afternoon with us. E and S had put up much less of a struggle going to bed than I had anticipated, given that it was much later than usual and that the hyperactivity of entertaining company had not yet worn off. S had no doubt exhausted herself by trying to defend her territory against the other young girl who had come over (never mind the fact that the other girl was six months S’s junior and had very little interest in fighting). E, meanwhile, had pushed through the initial focus on the two girls and used up his energy convincing all four adult males to play board games with him.

“I mean, I’m glad they didn’t notice,” T added. “It’s just interesting; I don’t think we’ve ever had any black friends over to our apartment before.” Continue reading “How Do I “Do Diversity Right?””

“Don’t Cry, It’s Only a Joke.”

I see a lot of different things when I’m working.

I have three separate jobs, so this is to be expected. I work full-time as a social worker, providing case management and counseling services to families who have children with mental health and behavior problems. I also have two part-time jobs at my local synagogue, teaching religious school classes to middle school students and leading junior congregation services a few times each month.  Continue reading ““Don’t Cry, It’s Only a Joke.””

Looking For The Right Words

Note: This post includes some derogatory language that some people might find offensive. I explain why I chose to use it again later in the post, but I’ll say it here, as well. I used these words as part of a broader analysis of language and its relationship to race and I thought that not spelling them out in full would distract from the message of the post. I apologize in advance if anyone is offended by my use of the words as they are. Please feel free to comment in the space below, to write to me using the contact form here or email me at sleepingonedge@gmail.com. Thanks again for reading.
I take language seriously.

I take pride in the fact that I use correct grammar and that I make spelling mistakes less often than the Cubs win the World Series.1 I still approach the quality of my writing with the same focus and intent to produce a polished product, even though this is a blog, as opposed to a research paper or journal article. You’re taking the time to read my work; the least I can do is give you something thoughtful and well-written to occupy your time.  Continue reading “Looking For The Right Words”

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