I was a miserable black teen in Naperville in ’79. The city’s lasting racism needs a deeper look.
When my family arrived in Naperville in 1979, I was a young, black teenage girl in the midst of figuring out who I was and my place in the world, still dreaming of what I would become. Our move to Naperville was a hard crash, awakening me to a reality of cold-hearted racist microaggressions.
When I read about a black group recently being asked to move tables at Buffalo Wild Wings because a white patron didn’t want to sit by them, I texted the article to my parents and sister and said, “I see not much has changed since we left.” A white student at Naperville Central High School posting a photo of a black student on Craigslist as a slave for sale was further confirmation that the toxic culture for black people hasn’t changed.
I lived in Naperville for two years. I attended Madison Junior High School and Naperville Central High School and was a member of Our Saviour’s Lutheran Church. To say that the neighborhood, schools and church were not welcoming would be an understatement. I battled constantly to be valued, to be treated fairly, to be seen, to be heard — to be considered a human being and an equal.
James Baldwin said, “It took many years of vomiting up all the filth I’d been taught about myself, and halfbelieved, before I was able to walk on this earth as though I had a right to be here.” That statement perfectly captures the time I spent in Naperville. Sometimes I still dream about one math teacher. She calls me up in front of the class to answer a question about a formula. I answer over and over, but my voice has gone silent. She and the class laugh and tell me I don’t belong. As they grab me and push me out the door, I wake up. I dropped her class because I felt like every day I was headed to battle in a war that I would never be able to win. It was my first failure, and it affected me in the form of migraines, chest pains, stomachaches, insomnia and periods of great sadness.
My church experience wasn’t much better. My father, a decorated Vietnam veteran, had developed a close bond there with a Lutheran minister and decided if he survived the war, he would become a Lutheran. Unfortunately, the goodwill my father experienced overseas didn’t translate back to Naperville. I attended catechism classes during the week and walked the mile between school and church alone. None of my classmates invited me to join them, and the few times I attempted to include myself, I was met with slick racist comments and frozen out. I spent that year observing from the outside and wondering why none of my instructors noticed my misery and isolation, and if we even served the same Jesus.
I have since dedicated my personal and professional life to equity, social justice and empowering people to be able to have a voice, regardless of their race or socioeconomic background. I haven’t forgotten what it’s like to be overlooked and ignored — or worse, to be told not to have high expectations or goals because you are black. To be told not to dream big.
Hosting anti-hate forums, as Naperville has now done, isn’t going to do much good if the culture and heart of residents doesn’t change. What might help in Naperville and cities like it? The New York Times’ 1619 Project is a powerful examination of the legacy of slavery in the United States. Incorporate it as part of class curriculum.
Ensure black authors are required reading for students in English and add Henrietta Lacks and black inventors and trailblazers to history classes. Realize black history is American history. Watch the movie “When They See Us” and have local churches and organizations have an honest, open discussion about racial bias and how it affects us as a society. Encourage churches to hold worship services with white and black people worshipping together and sharing a meal afterward to foster dialogue and Christian goodwill.
If more white Americans understood the systemic obstacles that black people face on a daily basis, it wouldn’t erase the past or all of the pain, but it would be a positive step in healing the racial divide.
I survived my experiences growing up. I had a supportive family and a few friends who saw beyond my skin color. Eventually I even won over some teachers and classmates. A few things that saved me were reading — Shakespeare, Greek mythology, Alice Walker, James Baldwin, Toni Morrison, “The Autobiography of Malcolm X,” Judy Blume, Erich Segal. I listened to WJPC-FM, the station then owned by Chicago’s Johnson Publishing, on a little radio that I carried with me on my walks to school and to catechism class. I often wished that my classmates could hear Tom Joyner and the “Little Known Black History Facts” and realize all that we have contributed to America.
To the family and friends asked to move at Buffalo Wild Wings and to the young man posted on Craigslist: I see you and I stand with you. In the words of Langston Hughes, eat well, grow strong and continue to be beautiful. You are not defined by someone else’s ignorance.
To Naperville: Do better. Damn. It’s been 40 years.