musings on racim, prejudice & stereotypes...

[~springrain]

When I was in the third grade, my school took part in a new, rather controversial experiment regarding racism and discrimination (it was the early 70's). Click here for more info: Blue-eyed/Brown eyed Experiment

As it is Black History Month, I've been doing some thinking about race relations, how it's effecte me, etc. etc. I was reminded of my third grade experience... and thought i'd pass it on.

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I fell in love for the first time in my life when I was nine years old. I guess an adult would have simply called it infatuation or adoration, but my nine year old heart couldn’t tell the difference. The person I fell in love with, was Mrs. Strickler, my third grade teacher. She was tall, almost reaching six feet. Her hair was a brown, to match her eyes, and she it in a straight bob that just touched her shoulders. She walked with incredible grace, and her somewhat deep voice, was soothing to the listening ear. What I saw, through my nine year old eyes, was the kindest person that God had put in this earth. Mrs. Strickler had a way of making us feel like we could do anything. She often pushed the class to excel, yet never went so far as to lose those who where struggling to keep up. To me, she was the most fair, and most giving person I had ever known. In the spring of my third grade year, she implemented a three day lesson plan that would change my life forever. Though I did not realize it at the time, Mrs. Strickler would help me form some very basic attitudes. Attitudes that would greatly affect the way I viewed myself and others, throughout the rest of my life.

The lesson began on a Monday morning. I walked into the classroom excited about the day to come. Mrs. Strickler had been reading Beverly Cleary’s Ramona the Pest aloud to the class everyday, and I was anxiously awaiting hearing the next chapter. Soon the bell rang and everyone settled into their desks. Mrs. Strickler was standing behind the podium in the front of the classroom. “Boys and girls,” she said, “from now on we are going to do little differently from the way we usually do.” We all eagerly waited in anticipation to find out what exatly she meant. Then she hit us with it. “I have come to learn” she said, “that brown-eyed people are much smarter and generally better than blue or green-eyed people.” The classroom fell silent. We all looked at each other in confusion. Mrs. Strickler then went on to explain that she had been conducting research on the topic, and the studies had clearly shown that brown-eyed individuals were certainly “better” in an overall sense than blue or green-eyed people. Being only eight and nine years olds, none of us where in a position to disbelieve what our beloved teacher had to say.

As I looked around the room, I could see that some of the brown-eyed children were smiling widely. I too, had brown eyes, yet was wondering if what my teacher was saying was really true. Then Mrs. Strickler made another announcement. “I’ve decided to let those of you with brown eyes go to the library, while the rest of you will have to stay in the classroom and do extra work.” All thoughts of confusion fled my mind. Now, all I could think about was an entire morning in the library! “Wow,” I thought to myself, “This beats Ramona the Pest any day!” I eagerly picked up my things, and walked down to the library with the rest of the brown-eyed children.

For the rest of the day, those of us with brown eyes were given special privileges. We were first in line for lunch, we received an extra hour of recess, and we all got to move our desks to the front of the classroom, while the blue and green-eyed children were forced to sit in the back. As the day progressed, I found myself expecting such special treatment from everyone. I was thoroughly angry when Mr. Bailey our gym teacher, did not give the brown-eyed children special treatment during gym class. Surely he had been told that us brown eyed children were superior to others! Soon, the day was over and I rode home on the bus that day with a new sense of confidence. I was sure that I had secretly known all along that brown-eyed people were better.

I walked into the classroom the next morning elated, wondering what other special things Mrs. Strickler had in mind for us. I proudly walked up to my seat in the front of the room where all of the other brown-eyed children were sitting. The bell rang, and Mrs. Strickler walked to the front of the classroom. I smiled up at her. "Boys and Girls" she said, “I have made a terrible mistake. It seems that it is the blue and green-eyed people who are smarter and better. I don’t know what I could have been thinking when I mixed it up yesterday.” My elation turned to nausea. “What did she mean she made a mistake?” I couldn’t believe this was happening. Mrs. Strickler immediately then made the brown-eyed children give up our front row seats and move to the back of the room. Confused, humiliated, and very angry, I made my way to the back.

For the rest of the day, it was the blue and green-eyed children who received special treatment. Not only were they allowed to spend hours in the library, and be the first in line for lunch, they were allowed to spend their entire afternoon in recess. Mr. Bailey, the gym teacher, had even treated them differently, allowing them to spend their class time outside on the playground! Apparently somehow had told him. It was so unfair! As the day progressed, I found myself getting very angry. How horrible and cruel it all seemed. I could not believe how badly they were treating us.

That afternoon, while all the blue and green-eyed children played outside, those of us with brown eyes were forced to stay in the classroom and work on long division. I sat at my desk, and sadly peered out the window to watch the other children. They smiled and laughed with each other while they played in the school yard. As I shifted my gaze to look around the classroom, I could see that some of the brown-eyed children were crying. Quietly, I lowered my head and buried my face in my arms as my own tears spilled down my cheeks. By the end of the day, I was totally exhausted. I shuffled on to the bus crying. I couldn’t wait to get to the safety of my home and all the was familiar.

The following morning was Wednesday. I slowly walked into the classroom and took my seat in the back. Soon, the room was filled with boisterous blue and green-eyed children. They were laughing and talking, still feeling elated from the previous day’s activities. I sat quietly at my desk, feeling alone and afraid. After everyone settled into their seats, Mrs. Strickler slowly walked up to the front of the classroom. She looked at us, and then without saying a word, turned around to write something on the blackboard. She quietly spelled out the word DISCRIMINATION in very large capital letters. There was complete silence in the room as she turned around to face us. "Does anyone know what this word means?” she asked.

We spend the entire morning talking about the word DISCRIMINATION and what it meant. Mrs. Strickler carefully explained why she had separated us from each other. She painstakingly answered all of our many questions. There was an incredible feeling of relief in the room as we continued to talk. Estranged brown and blue eyed friends once again smiled at each other, and soon everyone began to talk to one another with ease. Things began to feel normal again; yet they would never feel exactly the same. For the first time in my life, I looked at the children who were constantly teased or singled out in a different light. I began to realize what they must have been feeling all along. That afternoon, I rode home on the bus with Sheila Flatz, my “blue-eyed” best friend. I was so thankful that everyone was once again, back to normal.

As an adult looking back on the entire experience, I realize that I had no idea of the impact that three day lesson would have on my life. When I rode the bus home, on that last day, I was thankful that is was over, and everything was back to “normal”. What I did not see or realize then, was that I would forever look at life through a different set of eyes. Classmates from a poor family would no longer seem disgusting to me, children of a different race or religion would be less mysterious, less frightening; and anyone else who might be different or unique would seem less threatening. Not only did a nine-year-old girl in the third grade learn the meaning of the word discrimination, a soon-to-be young woman learned some very valuable attitudes that would follow her through the rest of her life.

[lurkette]

Thanks for sharing this very personal experience, ~springrain!

I can feel ART's "discrimination" lecture coming on, so I'm going to pre-empt it

There's a difference between discrimination based on legitimate characteristics - this person performed better than that person on a standardized test that is a predictor of college success; this person plays an instrument more skillfully than that person - and discrimination based on arbitrary and meaningless characteristics - melanin content in the skin, pigmentation of the eyes.

Like it or not, human beings are discriminating machines. We want to categorize, find patterns, make shortcuts so we don't have to deal with too much complexity in a situation. Evolutionarily it makes sense: if you learn that tigers are dangerous, you don't have to evaluate the situation every time you meet a tiger - you know that "tigers are dangerous" and you just run.

However, humans also have the ability to examine motivations and to make judgments based on context. We live in a racist society, with a racist history, a racist media; we are all to some extent racists, whether we care to admit it or not. Acknowledging it and being aware of it is what gives you power over it. Recognizing the context in which beliefs and behaviors are formed - both in terms of racial/cultural tendencies and personal judgments about those tendencies - is crucial to making informed and realistic judgments about the world around us.

[CinnamonGirl]

Wow. Very cool teacher...thanks for posting that.

[Cynthetiq]

unfortunately if it's not by color, it's going to be by profession, if it's not profession, it's by school, if it's not school, it's by region, if it's not region, it's by city, if it's not by city it's by block.

People like the idea of having identity to be together in a group and to find themselves better than other groups.

shame really...

[~springrain]

lurkette... valid points *soft smile*

i guess i was thinking of the human experience... in all that it is...

awareness is a huge step in the right direction... that is what i got from the experience...

[sexymama]

I used to teach that experiment to adult volunteers for a crisis center. It is very emotional.

Although I agree that we humans naturally discrimate, it is also good to be aware of our own prejudices so we can be as fair as possible. When we are aware of our own beliefs, we should be better able to accept others, even if we don't agree with their beliefs, because we can set our beliefs aside and focus on the person, rather than on the belief. *hoping that makes sense.*

[dy156]

I too experienced something in late elementary school that affected my views on racism and stereotypes, but it was not positive. I went to a very middle class school. It was mostly white, but had a few blacks and hispanics. Our classes were pretty multicultural for the time. I remember a Jewish Girl's mother coming to talk to us about Haunakah (sp?) and we ate Jewish food. Same thing for this kid that was Indian. There was a black girl that lived down the street, and we got off at the same busstop. She was a friend, and I remember her name, Janelle.

That happy environment changed however, when for the next grade, all the students had to get up at the crack of dawn to catch a school bus that took us to a brand new inner city school, where we stuck out like sore thumbs. The next year, the same thing happened in reverse. (they came to our school, but I wasn't there for that) Unlike alot of kids, my parents couldn't afford to put me into private school the year we were bused to the inner city. The administrators, for reasons I never figured out, but I suspect had to do with parental complaints, soon switched from classes randomly mixed to organizing classes based on our "reading groups." I was happy, because I was back with all my friends. They really did have a class of almost all smart middle class kids, a class of medium middle class kids, a somewhat mixed class of not so bright middle class kids and the "natives" and several more classes of the inner city kids that I couldn't distinguish between. There were a few bright inner city kids sprinkled among the middle class kids too, but mostly it was a huge charade for the balancing of races within the school district.

It was a mostly harmful charade too. I alluded to the fact that it became "us" and "them" quickly, and yes, we referred to them as "natives" (technically correct, because they lived near the school, and we did not, but still derogatory.) I became far more aware of material things, and we tried to dress as nice and preppy as we could to distinguish ourselves from the "natives." We made fun of them, and I'm sure they did the same to us. The classes seldom mixed for recess or assemblies. Suddenly black people in my mind were not represented by Janelle and her family, but became the poor people that wore ratty t-shirts and parachute pants, put oil in their hair, and couldn't read. They were bigger than us, in part because many of them had repeated grades. We were scared of them. "We" were smarter, had more money, looked down upon and did not want to associate with "them." Strong evidence of all the cultural stereotypes was right there in front of us, and for "them" as well.

The Indian family and the Jewish family could both afford to send their children to private schools, and did. Somehow Janelle's family did too. As you can probably tell, that year made quite an impression on an impressionable boy. The one positive was that by being in a class with only the more academically advanced kids, we were allowed to accelerate, and that gave me a head start in school when our family moved to a smaller town the next year. I wish, though, that our teacher could have just done something like the blue-eye thing. It was probably alot better lesson in tolerance and acceptence.

[Yalaynia]

Im not a rasist person at all. It doesnt matter to me what religion, nationality, skin colour, eye colour, hair colour you have, if you are gay, lesbian, bi, cross dresser, or if you have 30 million piercings all over your body, whatever. If you treat others badly and come off thinking you are king of the human race and better then anyone else. You are full of yourself and I dont want anything to do with you.
I really hate when you see things in the news where someone screams rasist because they were applying for a job and were turned down. They dont seem to think that the other person was apply was better qualified.
It drives me nuts to think with all wars and diseases going around that people still seem to be more concerned with whos sleeping with who or what colour their skin is.
Friend of mine was a terrible rasists. I didnt know it at the time til he told me. I was like thats fine going back on my dont judge people for what they are. I drew the line on our friendship though when he used the line dont judge a book by its cover when we were talking about a movie that he had seen that I just wasnt interested in. I turned and laid into him and told him straight out what I thought of him , and then continued to say that he has NO right to say that to me. I dont know I may have over reacted a bit but it just discusted me to no end that he is saying one thing and doing another.

[Seaver]

That happened to me in the 4th grade. The school was very heavily hispanic, with a few whites in the class (I'm white). The teacher (male) was one I had enourmous respect for, he was extreamly funny, and got us wanting to learn. He was the type of teacher who when someone got in trouble we would have a day of court to determine his guilt/innocence, and if he was innocent the teacher would buy him a coke to compensate for putting him/her on the spot.

Anyways he did this experiment, but instead of eyes it was whether or not you could speak Spanish, I couldnt at the time. First it was if you spoke spanish you were superior, then inferior. The first day many of my friends (both mexican and white) who couldnt speak it faked it to simply get the free day. The next day it was those who spoke it were inferior. I remember I got up at first to go play.. and then saw the looks on my friends faces, and I made my way back to my seat.

As stated above I had NO idea what that would show in my life, but reading this took me back then where I refused to leave my friends just because some stupid difference.

[aarchaon]

I think that every person should do this experiment at least once in their life. It would fix a lot of illogical hate and fear that is part of western culture. I feel much the same as Yalaynia, I couldn't care less who or what you are, but if you're an asshole then I don't want to know you.

[nukeu666]

we can find anyreason to discriminate certain people
yesterday a couple of friends went out to dinner and one of us did all the work(ordered/payed etc etc) coz he was the only vegetarian among us :P