A few weeks ago, several teachers and former teachers at our school received an email from a former student who had recently been awarded a doctorate in psychology and who is presently working in Florida. He thanked us for our support, encouragement and love. He expressed gratitude for the academic lessons but more importantly, for the lessons about life.
He mentioned that when he had moved to a large urban area, that he "experienced some pretty serious culture shock." He said that he had grown up in an environment with latent racism, sexism and homophobia. He went on to write, "I am so happy to share that I've worked tirelessly to overcome the biases I had in my younger days, and now embrace differences with open arms." He then addressed me directly. "Mr. M...., I see how you tried to open our eyes to some of this. Thank you."
After forty-five years as an educator, I have become accustomed to receiving these types of communications, but nonetheless it is always gratifying.
I am in the process of writing a reply and I have indicated that he has learned more quickly than I had. When I moved from an urban area to a rural area I brought along my biases with me. In my reply I am including an essay that I wrote back in 2007 about my own journey away from stereotyping a group of people.
As I read the essay once again, which I published as a diary here at DK, it occurred to me that this episode in the life of an older leftie might have some relevance today, especially as it concerns the insurgent candidacy of Bernie Sanders. I have re-publshed the essay, with a few edits and updates, over the fold. Please take a look and decide yourself.
Back in the late sixties, I had been very involved in the Civil Rights struggle. I was also entering my final year of college and I was considering my career goals. I had a conversation with an older friend from Saginaw and said I wanted to teach on the east side of Saginaw, where I grew up.
"Why?"
"That’s where I’m needed", I replied. " We need to save these kids."
"Do you think you need to save us? Do you need to show us black folks the way?"
His questions stung. Though I had been radicalized at college and had never bought into the "white man’s burden", deep inside I suspected he might be getting too close to the truth.
"We know what the problems are", he continued. "We know ‘the way’. We need the tools to get there. We really don’t need another white kid with all the answers who feels a need to save us from ourselves."
I replied that I didn’t claim to have all the answers and asked why he was coming after me. He knew my heart and, for all my faults, I was certainly better than some of the racists they had teaching in Saginaw at the time. He looked at me sympathetically and said that he understood my idealism but the African-American community really didn’t need another white messiah. Perhaps, he suggested, I should consider working in a poor white community. I would be needed there, too; and I could influence them to reduce their racism. He assured me that doing so would be as valuable as working in a predominantly minority school.
It was not my intention to necessarily follow his counsel, but as fate would have it I ended up finding a teaching position in a small poor rural community. It was, in fact, very poor. I would like to tell you I was a quick study but I wasn’t. When I started working in this community 42 years ago, I had the same messiah complex as my friend had inveighed against back in Saginaw, except it was directed toward the poor white community. I was going to save them from their poor redneck ways. It was worse because the empathy I had in the city I did not have in the country. I was a rather arrogant.
I’m a damn good teacher and the community took a liking to me because I liked their kids. Being a somewhat successful coach didn’t hurt my cause either. But they saw my as an elitist who wanted to show them "the way". When I ran as a candidate for the town council in the early eighties, I was thorough defeated, badly trailing the other candidates. The town was not about to vote for a pretentious challenger who had little respect for the community.
Finally a friend from town took me aside and offered a parable. He asked me to see if I recognized anyone.
At a teacher/parent conference, a man and his wife came in. As they exchanged pleasantries, the teacher asked the man what he did.
"I work at the sawmill. After work, I do a little bit of hunting, a little bit of fishing, play with my kids and spend time with my wife." She blushed.
"Well", said the teacher, "Your son is a fine student. He has quite a future ahead of him."
"That’s great to hear", replied the man.
"He certainly could get into a good college. He would undoubtedly receive a scholarship."
"Wonderful", answered the wife. "Then what?"
"After graduation from college, he could get work in the corporate world. He’s a smart kid."
"Don’t we know it", she smiled. "Then what?"
"With his talent he will move up the ladder in no time. By the time he’s thirty he will probably be able to work his way into upper management."
"Great", said the man. "Then what?"
"Well he’s quite creative and displays great initiative. I see him perhaps starting his own company. He would likely be very successful. If he works at it he will probably be a millionaire by the time he is forty."
"That’s fantastic. Then what?"
The teacher sat back with a self-satisfied smile. "Why then he could build a cottage up north. He could come up on the weekends, do a little hunting, a little fishing, play with his kids and spend time with his wife."
I’ve heard the story a few times since then, told in different ways. But the point he made was even though I was a "left-wing" radical, I had the same attitude as the other side of the political spectrum. I was here to save these people from themselves. The irony was they had much to teach me. They were less interested in consumerism than I, the so-called socialist. Their definition of success may have been better than my own. It certainly was more balanced. It didn’t require that they lose their identity or their values, or that they sell their souls.
They weren’t lost. They knew what they wanted for their children. What they wanted from me was to provide their children with the tools they needed to be able to have a choice when they graduated from high school.
So I stopped talking so much and started to listen. As I began to respect my town and the people living there, their attitude also changed. Despite my well-known leftist leanings, I served three terms on the council. I was asked to be the superintendent of the school system. My counsel is sought and listened to.
I believe that I have exerted a positive influence, and that our town and school have grown more open and tolerant. In our small rural school, gay students don’t have to worry about being assaulted and harassed. The few minority students we have are not targets of racist epithets.
Just as importantly, I have embraced many of the values of the town. I still don’t hunt but that’s really not important. What I have come to understand is that success can’t simply be measured in economic terms. That is not to say that I don’t see problems associated with poverty. But a living wage and health insurance would do a lot to alleviate these problems. The folks in town also understand the problems and they understand the value of education.
Is there a lesson here for liberals? Perhaps. I do believe that too often we are guilty of displaying a rather condescending attitude toward the working class, especially the working poor. We would do well to remember that if it was up to the working class folks, John Kerry would have been elected president. It was the upper middle class and upper classes who kept Bush in power. Link
Unfortunately, too many folks in the working class do not vote. They turn their backs on the system because they see the candidates as elitist spokespeople for the corporate classes. Perhaps if we had a candidate who genuinely connected with working people and their concerns, we would see an increase in voter turnout. Working people don’t need a messiah. They want a candidate who addresses the issues of concern to them; an honest candidate who listens to them and talks to them, not in a condescending way, but in direct straightforward manner. They want a candidate who respects them.
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I wrote this essay nearly eight years ago. I believe that the conclusions are as relevant today as they were in 2007. It may also help to explain the Bernie Sanders phenomenon. I believe people respond to him because he is honest, speaks to them in a direct straightforward manner, and respects them. A comment posted by Remediator in another diary explains:
Sanders isn't drawing crowds because he's the latest fad. He's insisting that there is dignity in work and strength in diverse communities and justice in individual rights over corporate power.
I don't know if the Sanders candidacy will continue gain traction but I do know that he has tapped into a deep undercurrent of dissatisfaction with the status quo. His candidacy has the potential to change the political conversation in this country.
I have contributed to the Sanders campaign and will be attending or possibly hosting an organizational meeting here in Michigan. Am I again tilting at windmills? Perhaps, but then I have been doing so for most of my life. The fight for social justice and peace is often difficult. We haven't won all the battles, but we have won some important victories. Perhaps we can win this battle as well.