By James Wallace
Director of Diversity, Equity and Multicultural Affairs

My wife is a seamstress and often makes dashikis for us to wear. Dashikis are colorful shirts worn by men and women in west Africa that were quite popular during the civil rights and Black power movements of the 1960s and '70s. I especially enjoy wearing them while traveling in the summer because they are loose garments made of breathable fabric.

Some years ago, while wearing a dashiki and driving through Kentucky, I stopped into a gas station where I encountered a young white child of about 5 years old who loudly asked his mom, “Where did that come from?” Noticing that I heard the child’s remark, his mom, with some embarrassment, immediately shushed him.

 He didn’t ask his question with a tone of disgust, just natural curiosity. I wondered if I was the first African American he had encountered. To me, I was unsure if he was talking about my shirt or my skin color.

Nevertheless, I didn’t say anything to them and neither of them spoke again until I left the gas station. But I felt an opportunity had been lost. Clearly the boy had some questions related to the social construction called race. But, neither of the adults involved (me included) were willing or equipped to engage in a dialogue surrounding the cultural differences between people.

As the director of Diversity, Equity, and Multicultural Affairs for Indiana University Northwest, I’m frequently asked to lead discussions on campus and in the community surrounding issues of race, equity and inclusion. I have a saying that no one has any thoughts about diversity and inclusion until a decision is made, or something awful occurs. Then, everybody has an opinion. Our nation, and perhaps even our world, is at that point — now.

No sharing, no caring?

Much like the mother and I in the story above, we are divided as a country because we are unused to talking to each other about race, viewing the very topic as taboo.

Because we are not communicating and exploring each other’s perspectives, this view only serves to maintain the systemic disparities embedded within our current social, economic, and, yes, political structures.

While at IU Northwest and through my doctoral studies in Urban Education Studies, I’ve had an opportunity to learn from nationally renowned scholars committed to advancing an anti-racist agenda.

I’ve engaged in dialogues, participated in programming, and, then, incorporated much of this material into workshops for the benefit of IU Northwest and the greater community. Today I’ll share with you what I’ve learned in hope it will provide value, as you seek to have your own difficult and courageous conversations about race.

Glenn Singleton, CEO of the Pacific Education Group and co-author of Courageous Conversations about Race, offers four points all participants must agree on prior to engaging in conversations regarding race:

Stay engaged

Often when people have these difficult conversations, they will not hear out the other party. They will listen to respond, not to understand someone else’s perspective. Or, they will simply tune out the other party and miss critical points. Singleton says, “Staying engaged means remaining morally, emotionally, intellectually, and socially involved in the dialogue.” When joining these conversations, lend your full attention, so you can absorb what is being shared and try to keep an open mind. You just might learn something new.

Prepare to feel discomfort

Because these conversations involve difficult and deeply emotional topics they will likely be uncomfortable, especially when someone describes how your actions or ideas have caused harm or hurt. Don’t shy away from those feelings. Embrace them. Just like weight training, this is heavy lifting and the pain you endure during the process will make you stronger and more resilient in the long run.

Speak your truth

First, be willing to take risks and “be honest about your thoughts, feelings, and opinions and not just saying what you think others want to hear.” Singleton continues, when “you don’t speak your truth out of fear of offending ... or sounding ignorant ... the dialogue will remain limited and ultimately ineffective” because it lacks the clarity others need to comment on how those ideas are perceived outside of your accustomed sphere of influence.

Part two, asks participants to be careful how they express potentially offending remarks. If I say something that I think may be offensive, I’ll preface it by saying “I don’t know how else to say this but let’s work together to find more acceptable language.”

Another approach is to address your uncertainty by posing a question. For example, one might say, “I’m unfamiliar with that issue. Can you tell me more?” In my experience, people are more understanding and willing to engage if they detect someone is being intentional about interacting with civility and respect.

Expect and accept non-closure

The world has been grappling with issues of race for hundreds of years. So, don’t expect for solutions to reveal themselves in short order. Acknowledge this when entering the conversation and remain committed to coming back to (and staying at) the table because it’s the only way we can collectively resolve our problems.

I’ve taken the liberty of adding a fifth agreement, that being to acknowledge, explore, and respect the historical narratives of people of color. I firmly believe there is much of our collective history intentionally hidden. These omissions feed into the deficit perspective that declares there is something inherently wrong with people of color, suggesting they have little to offer this nation besides their labor.

Only by uncovering these histories and incorporating them into the conversation can majority populations begin to understand that the systemic oppression which impacts one eventually affects us all. In this way, we can begin to heal the wounds of this nation, and the world.

James Wallace is the director of Diversity, Equity and Multicultural Affairs at IU Northwest. The opinions are the writer's.