It’s Not All About You, or The Case for Empathy
by Carmen Van Kerckhove
Back in 2004 when I first started speaking and blogging about race, I was invited to facilitate a phone discussion with a group of parents who had adopted children from outside the United States.
One of the mothers in the group was white and Jewish. She adopted her son from an African country, and was raising him in her faith. She told me that she wanted my advice on a situation she was dealing with.
Her nanny was a Jamaican woman. One day, the nanny came home and the mother noticed she looked upset. The mother asked her what was wrong, but the nanny just shook her head and said everything was fine.
The mother was concerned, so she kept prodding, but the nanny was still reluctant to say anything. The mother was persistent, and told her that this was a safe space for her to share. She said there wouldn’t be any judgments, no matter what it was about.
Finally, the nanny broke down and said, “You people don’t know how to act!”
She explained that anytime she took the child for play dates in their mostly white and Jewish neighborhood, parents would treat her brusquely and avoid eye contact. Whenever she went to a store, salespeople would follow her around to make sure she didn’t steal anything. When she went to pay for items, the cashier would treat take great pains not to touch her hand when giving her change back.
She had been putting up with this kind of discrimination for a long time now because she loved working with this family, but she didn’t know how much longer she could go on as it was wearing on her emotionally.
“Can you believe that?” the mother asked me, her voice shaking with anger.
I was about to respond by expressing how sorry I was that this level of prejudice existed in her community, when the mother continued.
“I’m going to fire her! How dare she call Jews ‘you people!’ I’m Jewish and my son is Jewish. I’m just going to have to fire her because I don’t feel safe around her anymore.”
I was stunned.
Not only did the mother completely ignore the very real discrimination her nanny was dealing with; she managed to turn the entire situation around so that she became the victim.
In subsequent years, I’ve come to realize that this kind of behavior is not at all unusual.
If anything it’s the norm, not the exception, for people to be pre-occupied with their own suffering and supremely uninterested in hearing about the oppression others face.
This lack of empathy is one of the biggest roadblocks we face in dismantling racism.
If we’re serious about social justice, we need to recognize that when one of us is discriminated against, it’s an affront to us all.
Carmen Van Kerckhove is co-founder and president of 
Charles Cuyjet Said,
November 16, 2009 @ 10:53 am
It’s hard to get beyond one’s own experience when one comes from a group that has had historical, as well as present, cultural and social biases shown against it. Empathy doesn’t seem to be taught much either, the “Golden Rule” seemingly tossed out of educational and social curricula.
How hard is it, even for those of us who have dealt with diversity issues (I instituted a business course called Managing Diversity back in the early 80’s for a national business organization and taught diversity training courses in several corporate and government organizations subsequently) to really step inside another’s feelings and offer the appropriate response? For me, it comes down to being able to take a breath and step back from my own immediate reaction to truly hear and feel what is being said and described.
I imagine the mother in the case you present has too many filters to process the information through. The ‘you’ in the nanny’s ‘you people’ could have referred to Americans, white people in general, the folks in that particular neighborhood, or, sadly enough, to Jews. Valuing relationships more than perceived hurt feelings might have cautioned this upset mother to calm herself and probe a bit to ascertain the root of the nanny’s issues. Simply put, empathy could have been approached by basic communication skills. Asking questions might have uncovered what was going on for the nanny and, once understood, a better way to understanding between the two women could have occurred.
Problem solved? No, but a step in the right direction? Yes.
Cindy Said,
November 16, 2009 @ 11:36 am
We have difficulty getting out of our own way sometimes. I see this rear its head in the Racialicious comments (and on another site regarding gender politics). You can tell people hone in on a single phrase or sentence and then miss the entire point. There will be an angry and often lengthy response that is clearly off the path and obviously something close to home for the commenter. This happens with the original post and with responses to other comments.
It is difficult to set ourselves aside so that we can digest the entire message. I’ve gotten much better in the last couple of years with forcing myself to pause for a careful reread or to listen with better ears before I jump off the edge in full scale attack. It takes effort, though, because I have to weed through a life time of baggage.
Today’s Racialicious post ends with a great statement: “There’s nothing shameful about admitting that you’re among the majority of Americans – of every color – who has sometimes judged another person on the color his skin instead of the content of his character – and then realized it wasn’t fair. The best antidote to unconscious bias is self-reflection. …”
Laurie Dumm Said,
November 16, 2009 @ 5:09 pm
I was sure I knew where your story was going…and I felt just as blindsided as you must have at the time. I’m curious as to what you eventually said to her once the mental sputtering stopped. I hope you were able to awake her from her stupor!
As a white woman, I have certainly done my share of filtering. As Charles pointed out, sometimes we can’t see past our own experience to appreciate what others are dealing with.
However, for my whole life, I’ve been a jew; for 20 years I’ve been in a committed relationship with a standard issue white man (honey please don’t take that the wrong way); and in the past decade I’ve become a mom whose family was built through transracial adoption. I am also someone who spent more than a year caring for another mother’s african american son.
All of these experiences have changed me at my core, and I worry for the son whose mother has not been changed by her relationship with him. Did she not realize he was victimized as well?
I’m sorry for the nanny who was subjected to these racist acts, and then victimized again by her employer who first pleaded for trust and then violated it with her reaction. Some people will never get it, but we can hold out hope for the others who might just need a nudge toward the right answer.
Alston Adams Said,
November 17, 2009 @ 2:45 pm
While I agree with what you are saying, I cannot help but think of the “me-too” racist, the one that includes himself in every racially discriminated group (”I was also treated unfairly! Me too! You have nothing special to say about racism!”) Or the racist that just wants to dismantle any anti-racist thinking.
They would use this notion of getting over ourselves to tell us to get over ourselves and care about whitey, essentially. We have to care that she is being racially discriminated against on a regular basis, or that the white man is the most stepped on member of society. Because for that person, it is sheer hypocrisy that the Jewish woman should get over herself enough to care about the Jamaican woman’s experience, but that neither of them should care about the white person’s equally legitimate racist experience.
Cindy Cummins Said,
November 17, 2009 @ 3:21 pm
Yes, it’s amazing how one’s mind can twist and distort things so as to not have to face one’s privilege and how my own group is targeting another group.
I have learned so much by panels and listening exchanges. I was counseled by people of color who asked me about my earliest memories associated with noticing a skin tone other than “pink” (I’m white) and they listened to me warmly. Their philosophy was that by having me review my earliest memories associated in any way with race I’d unravel biases and become more aware.
After a while of this I was able to pay more attention to other people’s oppression and listening to panels of different subgroups of people of color I was able to become aware of what people go through everyday like the childcare provider in your article. I became able to speak up if i saw something unfair like that and also to be warm and friendly with groups of people I used to fear.
Before that I thought racism was over. I didn’t think I was racist but I found out I grew up in racism and had it stuck to my mind. I needed (and still continue to work on it) to free my mind of racist training!
Absolutely.
I love your blog and hope I’m part of the solution today to ending racism.
love,
cindy
xo
Becky Shuster Said,
November 20, 2009 @ 10:29 am
I certainly agree with Carmen’s observation that all too often we get preoccupied with our own oppression, and have difficulty focusing on others’ experiences. At the same time, I’ve often seen anti-Semitism and racism compared in way that isn’t useful.
It’s possible, even likely, that anti-Semitism and racism were both occuring in this situation. Neither one is acceptable. During this historical period, I believe that racism is the key issue that causes the exploitation of millions of human beings around the world and divides us all from one another. But I remain deeply committed to ending all oppressions, including my oppression as a Jew. I have been learning how to communicate about anti-Semitism more effectively, particularly highlighting that anti-Semitism persists in very destructive ways, even if many Jews identify as white and even if there is no current systematic killing of Jews.
I’d like to strive to respond to the mother in Carmen’s story in two ways: listening to her about how anti-Semitism affected her in this situation and throughout her life, and challenging her to become a more aware and active ally against racism.
Kerry Lewiecki Said,
January 19, 2010 @ 11:35 am
Disappointing story. I am a fan of the Platinum Rule: Treat others as they would be treated. — much more respectful.