A young man stopped by to see me the other day. I looked up, delighted to see him. I hadn’t seen him in nearly two years. I heard that he moved to Chicago. I expected to see him on Oprah one day.
I met this young man at a diversity training opening week at the community college I work for in the fall of 2005. A trainer for the National Coalition Building Institute, he co-led the workshop. He was 20 years old. This young man had accomplished more in his short 20 years than I had in 50.
Joel is black. I don’t really know a lot about his story. A colleague told me that he came from a poor, single-parent family. He never said anything. I didn’t ask. When I met him he was in his second year at the community college, pursuing a transfer degree.
Joel and two other students helped me organize a diversity panel of students for students in February 2006. The event was very successful. We did it again February 2007. Then Joel went to Chicago. One of the other students helped me in 2008. Sometimes I think we should have called it the ‘adversity’ panel. I’d like to think I have the strength of character and fortitude to survive, grow, and persist through the experiences the panel shared. My white skin screams privilege.
Why am I writing about Joel? I like Joel. I admire him and respect him. He is intelligent, energetic, articulate, and charismatic. He understands the hidden rules of ‘white.’ When I saw Joel the other day, he gave me a hug and chatted for a few minutes. I know he was glad to see me but there was something missing. It took me a few days but what I came to realize is that Joel pleasantly tolerates my naivety. He understands my good intentions and he understands I have a lot to learn about the experience of color. So do the other students. I like these young people, and I do believe they like me. I know I am considered an ally. And yet, I sensed a degree of mistrust.
I think these smart, young people of color watch my process of enlightenment with the gentle, amused patience of a favorite teacher.
My white skin screams privilege.
