The Race Card Project
By Michele Norris
Amy Slater,
Boyne City, MI
This quote by Hannah Harrington has always been one of my favorites. It really is easy to choose hate. I see and hear more negativity than positivity around me. Choosing to love takes more work. It means branching out and feeling a little vulnerable. But what if everyone chose to love instead of hate? Could this world be a better place if we all chose love, kindness, and compassion?
Gordon Lee Pattison,
Los Angeles, CA.
In 1959, when I was 14 years old, I moved from Los Angeles to Honolulu. I had just started taking French as a foreign language at my junior high school in Los Angeles and wanted to continue. However, there was only one junior high school in Honolulu at that time offering French in the 9th grade, so I got permission from the Honolulu school district to enroll there even though it was not located where we lived. I don’t think we realized it at the time, but I came to find later that it was located in one of the rougher parts of the city. When I enrolled, I met with the principal who warned me that because I would be one of only two haole students at the school, I might encounter trouble from the other students because of my race. What he was telling me was to watch my back, at the same time making it clear to me that I was on my own. I was about to have an experience that every white person in America should have. I know what it is like to be subjected to the mostly curious, sometimes mocking, and occasionally hostile stares and harassment that minorities often endure. I know the feeling of isolation, vulnerability, and anxiety that comes with that. I also know as a minority member what it is like to walk into a room of people and find myself instinctively looking around the room to see if there is anyone who looks like me. I do realize, however, that my experience had one major difference from that of many other minorities in our society. I was a member of an economically dominant, privileged, albeit minority, ethnic group in Hawaii. Nonetheless, it was a very instructive experience. It shaped my life and social outlook ever afterward and gave me empathy for the minority experience in America, and for that I have always been grateful.
Angela Clark Walker
Chicago, IL
Lisa Jasinsk,
Trinity University
In 2007, I spent a year working at The Apollo Theater in Harlem, NY. One day on my way into the office, I slipped on an icy sidewalk on 125th Street, and in a comic prat fall, landed on my bottom in a filthy puddle. A group of guys gathered outside the corner grocery busted up laughing, “Damn, did you see that White girl?”
In the moment, I was embarrassed, self-conscious, and humbled. I wanted to hide and to be anywhere else. I think I just ignored the guys, picked myself up, and walked on. At the time, I remember feeling especially vulnerable when my race was called out, recognizing that being White was something I rarely thought about (in my entitled, privilege way).
In so many ways, that year working in Harlem taught me so much. A decade later, I continue to build on what I was only beginning to figure out as I found myself in the racial minority for the first time in my life. I began to see how the “colorblindness” rhetoric of my suburban upbringing masked lived experiences and disguised hard truths. I began to see the complex ways that structural segregation, microaggressions, exclusion, implicit bias, class, power, and overt discrimination had played out in my own life and the lives of others. And once I saw it, I could never unsee it.
Subscription to our newsletter open soon.
Indulge in timeless elegance with our hand-curated collection of luxury vintage men’s fashion. From classic suits to iconic accessories, our online store offers a premium shopping experience for the modern gentleman who appreciates quality and style. Shop now and elevate your wardrobe with our carefully selected pieces that celebrate the art of craftsmanship and heritage fashion.
