Learning about racism can liberate
According to a 2016 Harvard study, wealthier people live as many as 10 to 15 years longer than poorer people. A disparity this striking is worthy of exploration. Do wealthier people live longer because they are innately superior? Of course not. Analysis provides us with a lens through which we can easily discern that wealthy people have access to better medical care and resources to lead healthier lifestyles. Few would dispute these facts or argue that we should not acknowledge them for fear of making wealthy people feel guilty.
Here is another disparity — one that has been proven by study after study: In our country, there is an ongoing racial gap in wealth, criminal justice outcomes, health, and – yes – lifespan. Roughly 14% of the U.S. population is Black or African American. Yet only 1% of Fortune 500 CEOs are Black. Only 5% of the country’s lawyers and doctors are Black. Just over 2% of U.S. businesses are Black-owned. Black people are less likely to graduate from high school or college than White people. Median Black household wealth is about 91% lower than median White household wealth. These differences in opportunity are shocking, but the discrepancies in criminal justice, access to care, and life expectancy are far more tragic. Similar disparities exist for other minorities and are felt in daily life by people of color.
Just as with the Harvard study above, these disparities are not only worthy of exploration but also require a powerful lens through which we can examine root causes. Americans have a shared belief that all people are created equal, so hopefully no one would conclude that racial disparities can be explained by innate racial differences. It is clear that there are underlying historical and societal causes.
Why then, is there a new uproar over providing students with a common-sense, analytical lens through which to examine the indisputable racial disparities in our society? Why are we hearing panicked concern that such a lens may make White students feel guilty for being White? And why, in a move akin to banning references to gravity from the study of physics, are politicians working to ban references to race and racism from the study of history?
The analytical lens to which I am referring is Critical Race Theory, an academic framework that explores the role of race and racism in our society. Despite being over 40 years old, CRT is suddenly the target of a rapidly brewing controversy. Critics of CRT argue that examining race as a factor in historical and societal trends is, in fact, racist. They insist that academic analysis must be “colorblind”.
The politicians who are critical of CRT cannot really believe that our nation’s history of enslavement, segregation, and unequal treatment are unimportant factors in the ongoing racial disparities in opportunity, wealth, and health. The controversy they are manufacturing is part of a strategy. They raise fabricated concerns that CRT will be used to shame White children, undermine their futures, and teach them to hate America for the oldest reason in politics: They know that fear, especially parental fear, is a powerful motivator.
Not surprisingly, many of the same politicians are the ones advancing legislation that will make it harder for minorities to vote. They are the same politicians who would be more likely to stay in power if fewer minorities voted and more likely to lose their seats if congressional districts were drawn fairly. And they are the same politicians whose real motives could be more easily swept under the rug if we used a colorblind paradigm that doesn’t acknowledge the complex and ongoing impact of race and racism.
It is precisely because CRT embraces our core belief that all people are created equal — no one race superior to another — that it can exist. It is precisely because the racial opportunity gap is so real that it is necessary to arm our students with tools to identify how our country perpetuates the disparities. Seeing America’s faults need not make us hate America or make White people feel guilty. We are not harming or shaming children by teaching them about the impact and pervasiveness of racism any more than we are by teaching them about the impact and pervasiveness of gravity. The only difference is that unlike gravity, the force of systemic racism can be changed. Learning about it can liberate us — and our children — to work towards a more just and equal America, one closer to the promise that we all believe it holds.