Spit towards my feet on train.
Azeem Raheem
Chicago, IL
Happened about a week after 9/11 as I was headed home from school on a Chicago train.
The Race Card Project
By Michele Norris
Azeem Raheem
Chicago, IL
Happened about a week after 9/11 as I was headed home from school on a Chicago train.
Donna Monroe,
Indianapolis, IN.
It was the summer of 1957. I was riding on a train with my mother when I saw another little girl who was having her hair braided. She was crying. My heart went out to her because I cried when my mom tried to comb the tangles out of my hair.
David Boehnlein,
Hampton, VA
p>I am a retired White physicist and worked with hundreds of colleagues over the course of my career. I could count the Black ones on one hand. Go to any major scientific conference and look for the black faces – they are few and far between. We’ve had diversity programs for as long as I can remember but they’re not working. I don’t know why we’re failing to train Black scientists, but we are.
Carmen Davis
Portland, OR
I was a very young child from the Midwest traveling with my mother by train to Detroit in the 1940’s. There was an African American couple on the train with a wonderfully packed picnic basket.
As a very gregarious child I was eager to explore the car. My mother told me it was okay to go visiting unless the man was there alone, because he would slit my throat with a razor.
I didn’t even know what that meant, but I knew I should be afraid.
Taylor Smith,
Grand Rapids, MI.
When describing myself and thinking about race, I wouldn’t put normally put caucasian or white as a trait unless it was a multiple choice answer on a census bubble form. To describe myself, I would first say: runner, coffee lover, Event Manager, sometimes Knitter, person who accumulates ridiculous and random stories and female but in no way lesser or ‘of man’. But that’s obviously more than 6 words and this project is called the race card which does bring up how I view my race. Being white, caucasian, or completely of European descent never usually comes 1st, 2nd, or 3rd to mind but it has today. The fact that I am beautiful and love my body comes even before whiteness but behind all the other traits I listed. I don’t often see my whiteness as just being white – it’s always matched to privilege which I guess is how it pretty much how it goes more often than not. I see it on the train going to work – when (and this fact is really heightened during rush hour) when the whites from the affluent suburb at the end of the line are riding into the city dressed in their fancy work clothes and a majority who get on after the suburb are non-white and wearing much less expensive clothing. I see my race when a group of all white family or friends talk about race. The other day, my all white biological family was speaking about why the word ‘black’ was more acceptable or not….at least on physician forms….than African-American. In situations like these, I’ll pipe up and offer my argument but I always feel like we’re missing a big piece of the puzzle in that our conversation and that whatever is finally decided isn’t truly valid because we don’t have a non-white to chime in and offer ‘the other side’s viewpoint’. And hasn’t that always been the problem: A group of whites make a decision and it gets filtered down to everyone else without their feelings on the subject matter.
I suppose I see race everyday and am reminded on a daily basis that I am a white, privileged, 27 year old. And I know that we’re supposed to say (or at least those of us who went to small liberal colleges that were very diverse in comparison to the normal college) that we’re past that. But we’re not…we’re bombarded by race everywhere we go and we’re reminded of what color we are and how it gives us privilege or not. In the media, the statistics, the clothing people are able to afford, the jobs people have, the areas people live, the way people treat others. The black guy down on his luck was hailing a cab for three fashionably dressed women, all white, on their way from the office at the end of the workday to a board meeting…again with mostly white physicians, no blacks or African-Americans.
Keira Glover,
England.
I was sat on the train yesterday reading Tolkiens ‘Lord of the Rings’ when a black woman sat down next to me, she kept leaning over my shoulder so I assumed she was a fan and that she was reading along, I even slowed my pace to give her more time to read and this went on for a good five minutes before she said “It’s full of white people” I asked what she meant and she went on to explain she’d read the book in university and that the cast of characters are majority white.
I didn’t argue because it’s true, I just didn’t understand why she’d made the comment so I asked her to elaborate.
She got angry with me, told me I must be racist (I have no idea why she thought that, I’m still very confused as to why she got angry) and that “whitey’s would either learn to accept they are below people of colour or we’d need to go” the guy across from me immediately called her out for being racist to which she replied ‘reverse racism doesn’t exist’ I agreed (in my opinion ‘reverse racism’ is a ridiculous term that makes zero sense) and then I explained the definition of racism and told her she was being (by definition) racist.
She spent a good 10 minutes explaining how ‘people of colour’ can’t be racist and then she started to tell everyone on the train I called her a ‘ni**er whore’ (I didn’t) and then she called me ‘mayonnaise without the good stuff’
A thing to note here is that she was American, I myself am British and have never met a black British person with such an extreme view of white people.
I’ve seen this kind of thing on the Internet but never experienced it first hand, and that’s why I’m writing this.
How many people believe this? Do people genuinely believe white people can’t face racism, because I thought it was something people said if they where ‘trolling’
Magda Schay
Camp Sherman, OR
I am an immigrant to USA and because my parents were educated and saw to it that their children are educated we were able to be part of the whole society.