From the Dean: Where and what I'm learning

It has been just over two weeks since we released statements denouncing racism. Each of the statements—from students, staff, faculty, and leadership—emphatically said that we would do more than make performative statements—that we would act. So, I thought I’d tell you what I’ve been doing these last few weeks to educate myself and a few things I’ve learned. I’ll confess that I’ve hesitated to submit this post because I am afraid it will come off sounding like I’m trying to make myself look good when my intention is to be transparent and hopefully inspire you to talk with someone about what you’re learning—no matter where you are on your journey to being antiracist.

One of the most impactful things I’ve learned happened quite by accident. While scrolling through Twitter one day, I came across several posts with the hashtag #BlackInTheIvory, including one by an MFE COE colleague. This hashtag is a thread of Black scholars sharing their experiences with racism in higher education. As I scrolled through, I read stories of Black scholars being presumed to be part of the hotel staff when at a conference, despite wearing conference attire and a conference name badge; never seeing a Black scholar give a major talk at their university; being told or overhearing that they “got” a job/promotion/award because the institution needed to “check a box;” and many, many more examples. This thread helped me see academia through a different lens and realize that Black academics face frequent macro and microaggressions in all kinds of university and academic settings. Reading posts from faculty and graduate students at UGA and in my discipline struck a particular chord with me, and I have since been reflecting on when and where I have been part of such micro and macroaggressions and how I can disrupt them if I see/hear them in the future.

There’s so much out there to read and listen to, so I appreciate the curated suggestions from our Office of Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion. From this list, I listened to a podcast in which Brené Brown interviewed Ibram Kendi about becoming anti-racist. The most thought-provoking portion of this podcast for me was this point made by Kendi (paraphrased but using much of his wording): To grow up white in American is to constantly have racist ideas rained down on your head, but you don’t have an umbrella, so you don’t even know that you’re wet. Then someone comes along and says “You’re wet; here’s an umbrella” and you suddenly realize the racism of which you’ve been part. Kendi goes on to explain that the classic response to having racism pointed out is shame, and he explains how I’ve simultaneously been a victim and a victimizer. I had two reactions to this metaphor. First, I found a bit of comfort in the idea that all of my life experiences were structured to help me develop racist ideas—because that means it’s “not my fault.” But at the same time, it helped me see ways that racism is endemic in our society and is baked into the way things work in our world. It’s not just a few prejudiced people—it’s all of us working together to perpetuate the system without even realizing we’re doing it. I’m still working to identify racist systemic structures, particularly in our college, but I think my eyes are opened a bit wider now. The whole podcast is worth a listen, but if you just want to hear the umbrella metaphor, start at the 32-minute mark.

I’ve also been exploring the Talking about Race toolkit at the National Museum of African American History and Culture. It’s a robust set of resources, and I bounce back and forth between using it for my own learning and thinking about how to use it in teacher education. This week I’ve been exploring their resources on Juneteenth, a date that I never learned about in school—not in elementary school, junior high, high school, college, or graduate school.

Sometimes, I get overwhelmed by how much there is to learn and do to make change, and other times I get stuck—paralyzed by the fear of saying or doing the wrong thing. But I’ve come to accept that both are part of the process, and sometimes I just have to pause and reread, re-listen, think, and talk with others. The important thing is to unpause and move forward. What are you reading and listening to? What conversations are you having?

Denise A. Spangler
Dean