Support AlterNet
Do you value the information you're getting from AlterNet? Please show your support with a tax-deductible donation.
Feedback
Tell us how we're doing.
Race Is Always Part of the Story
Corporate Accountability and WorkPlace:
Why McCain and the GOP Are So Afraid of Discussing the Economy
Frances Moore Lappe
Democracy and Elections:
Seven Ways Your Vote Might Not Count This November
Steven Rosenfeld
DrugReporter:
Obama's Biden Pick Signals 'More of the Same' Stupid Drug Policies
Paul Armentano
Election 2008:
McCain's Palin Gambit: Are Americans Weary of the Culture Wars?
Sanho Tree
Environment:
Boatloads of Trouble: How We Are Importing Our Way to Destruction
Stan Cox
ForeignPolicy:
The Bush Administration Checkmated in Georgia
Michael T. Klare
Health and Wellness:
Hospitals' Lessons From Hurricane Gustav
Sheri Fink
Hurricane Katrina:
From the Bayou to Baghdad: Mission Not Accomplished
Amy Goodman
Immigration:
Leader of Anti-Immigration Movement Calls Issue a "Skirmish in a Wider War"
Eric Ward
Media and Technology:
Only in America Could a Two-Faced Creature Like McCain Attain Such Media Status
Rory O'Connor
Movie Mix:
Does "Working Girls" Still Work?
Ariel Dougherty
Reproductive Justice and Gender:
An Open Letter to Gov. Sarah Palin on Women's Rights
Lynn Paltrow
Rights and Liberties:
Amy Goodman: Why We Were Falsely Arrested
Amy Goodman
Sex and Relationships:
What Republicans Can Learn from "Gossip Girl"
Sarah Seltzer
War on Iraq:
As Vets Take to the Streets to Protest the War, McCain Snubs IVAW at the RNC
Liliana Segura
Water:
Is California on the Brink of Environmental Collapse?
Rachel Olivieri
We use terms to label ourselves and others. We struggle over what the terms mean and how they should be applied. But we also define ourselves by the stories we tell. There are two different stories I could tell about myself. Which is true?
Story #1
I was born in a small city in North Dakota, to parents in the lower middle-class who eventually scratched their way to a comfortable middle-class life through hard work. I never went hungry and always had a roof over my head, but I was expected to work, and I did. From the time I started shoveling snow as a kid, to part-time and summer jobs, through my professional career, I worked hard. From the time I was old enough to hold a steady job, I have held one. I was a conscientious student who studied hard and took school seriously. I went to college and did fairly well, taking a year off in the middle to work full-time.
After graduation I worked as a journalist, in non-glamorous jobs for modest wages, working hard to learn a craft. I went on to get a master's degree and returned to work before eventually pursuing a doctorate so I could teach at the university level. I got a job at a major university and worked hard to get tenure. I'm still there today, still working hard.
Story #2
I was born in a small city in North Dakota, to white parents in the lower middle-class who eventually scratched their way to a comfortable middle-class life through hard work. The city I grew up in was almost all white. It was white because the indigenous population that once lived there was either exterminated or pushed onto reservations. It was extremely cold in the winter there, which was okay, people would joke, because it "kept the riff-raff out." It was understood that riff-raff meant people who weren't willing to work hard, or non-white people. The assumption was there was considerable overlap in the two groups.
I was educated in a well-funded and virtually all-white school system, where I was taught a variety of skills, including how to take standardized tests written by and for white people. In those schools my accomplishments were applauded and could be seen as part of a long line of accomplishments of people who looked like me. I mostly studied the history of people who look like me. Indigenous people were mostly a footnote.
I worked in part-time and summer jobs for which I was hired by other white people. One of those jobs was in a warehouse owned by a white man with whom my father did business. In that warehouse, we sometimes hired day labor to help us unload trucks. One of the adult men we hired was Indian. His name was Dave. We called him "Indian Dave." I, along with other white teenage boys working there, called him Indian Dave. We didn't give it a second thought.
I went to college in mostly white institutions. I had mostly white professors. I graduated and got jobs. In every job I have ever had, I was interviewed by a white person. Every boss I have ever had (until my current supervisor, who was hired three years ago) has been white. I was hired for my current teaching position at the predominantly white University of Texas, which had a white president, in a college headed by a white dean, and in a department with a white chairman that at the time had one non-white tenured professor.
Robert Jensen is a journalism professor at the University of Texas at Austin. He is the author of, most recently, The Heart of Whiteness: Confronting Race, Racism and White Privilege (City Lights Books), from which this essay is excerpted.
Liked this story? Get top stories in your inbox each week from AlterNet! Sign up now »