Racisme

The tributes to Nelson Mandela and his lifelong fight for social equality offer a good opportunity to speak briefly about race and racism as I have observed it in the months up to my recent departure from France.   This fall, accusations of racist comments made by and about government officials and politicians have been widely reported in the French press (see "Racisme en France: Un écran de fumée de PS, selon Copé". Nov. 19, 2013, Le Monde) and coincidentally, in Italy as well ("Italian politician compares black minister..." Aug. 26, 2013, The Guardian).  Our personal experiences suggest that these are just the proverbial tip of the iceberg.  We have heard many such comments from the mouths of French residents of all backgrounds in our nearly 2 1/2 years in France.  My children speak of rampant racist talk at their French public school from teachers and students alike, directed particularly towards French of Muslim or African backgrounds, while we certainly heard our share of ethnocentric comments about Americans, often derogatory, sometimes complimentary.  (In some circles, our foreign presence seemed to render social status.)   While not expressly racist, homophobic comments too were not uncommon, especially on the sports' fields.

From our U.S. West Coast perspective, where overt comments reflecting racism, ethnocentrism and homophobia are generally unacceptable even though these -isms and phobias continue to manifest themselves in racist, ethnocentrist and homophobic practices, the French expressions shocked us every time.  Those coming from politicians seemed outrageous and inexcusable, yet it's hard to know how to interpret the racist talk, especially in a country where race is officially ignored and its use in government records and census-taking is prohibited.  It's not like the South Africa of Mandela's youth and young adulthood where the racist talk was clearly coupled with official racist practices that kept the minority whites in power.  In regards to France, one might ask, is this all just a bunch of big talk (and to what ends), or do the French walk their racist talk, promoting the privilege of those who have the right background and skin color?  Officially, there is no racism, not in France, not in the U.S. for that matter either, but we can look at who is represented at the top of our most powerful institutions to see that minority populations (by race, but also by ethnicity, national origin, religious affiliation) are not represented in numbers consistent with their representation in national populations; in France we would expect to see more African and Muslim representation while in the U.S. it is African Americans, Hispanics, and Native Americans who are particularly underrepresented.  (Interestingly, in both France and Italy, it is the singular presence of female black government ministers which seems to have upset the old social order and triggered the recent racist comments.)  Looking at the numbers at the top is only one way to see evidence of racism though; as my sociology students learn, institutional racism can be subtly built into social structures.  Here it helps to consider the opportunity structures in societies because it is through these that we see representation at the top.  What are the opportunities for access, to good schools, for example, or to social networks (that is, to people with connections)?  What are the implications for good health outcomes (and thus better outcomes on other indicators) for certain communities that perhaps live in unsafe, unsanitary, and crowded conditions?  And who lives in these communities?  Many months ago, I wrote about the ways in which doors close, for women and for immigrants. (See Une porte fermée, March 2013.)  Race too opens and closes doors, even in societies where race officially doesn't even exist. Unfortunately, when the doors do open, the few who manage to get access to seats of power and privilege among the traditional officeholders are still not well-protected from racist treatment and remarks.  Thus, Mandela's quest for racial equality, in his own country and elsewhere, continues.

President Obama, a new kind of black man?

Although the occasion of President Obama's inauguration is past, his journey to the presidential post is a remarkable one. In many ways, he seems to have transcended his race, and the media reports on the first few few weeks of his presidency have highlighted his family's rather typical upper middle class sensibilities. His children reportedly have to make their own beds and set their own alarms, and his wife shops at J. Crew and feeds her family healthy, unprocessed food.

In a piece by Elijah Anderson called The Melting Pot Reconsidered (2000) that I assigned for the last week of my course on social stratification, Anderson seems to have predicted the arrival of Barack Obama. In this article, Anderson offers an update to the argument made in the 1960's by Glazer and Moynihan who asserted that the U.S. was on the cusp of being a true melting pot, with ethnic identities finally weakening in relevance and assimilation being the order of the day. Anderson suggested that Glazer and Moynihan were in fact unrealistic, that ethnic and racial identities in fact remain quite important markers of distinction, both for the minorities themselves and for society at large. Instead of a melting pot, in the 2000's, we have a salad bowl.

Anderson notes the special case of African Americans for whom the path to assimilation to the American common identity has been especially difficult; for them, race remains a master status. Given this, black men, Anderson suggests, have generally either aggressively embraced their 'other' status as 'Race Men', or have rejected their racial roots, 'selling out'. More recently, a new alternative has emerged, that of a 'new type of black professional', whose race and roots are acknowledged, but whose professional or occupational status are more important to him or her. This has of course created reactions from within the African American community, that this too represents a rejection of African American identity.

I proposed to my students that perhaps President Obama represents the apex of the new type of black professional, whose racial background is an element of his identity, but is not as central to him as his professional experiences and position are. My students were not so sure. Some suggested that his multiracial background, orc his African roots (as compared to African-American ones) set him apart from the start, not really making him comparable to African-Americans in general. For others, he is maybe more identifiable as just another member of the small black middle class, (which itself may in fact be primarily composed of these new types of black professionals). Others noted that his wife may be the better example of the new type of black professional.

For now, Obama's path remains atypical of the African American experience in the U.S. But, does he represent hope for African Americans and their futures? For Americans with multiple origins? For all Americans? Anderson suggests that for each black man who makes it, there is a certain alienation from the group out of which he has ascended, as well as a failure to win true acceptance from the masses. The prize comes with some drawbacks, in other words. What about for Obama? He has 'made it', his election suggests that he is widely and truly accepted, but does his victory alienate those who may share similar racial and/or ethnic roots, but whose life experiences and attainments are very different?

Citation
Anderson, Elijah. 2000. "Beyond the Melting Pot Reconsidered." in Great Divides: Readings in Social Inequality in the United States. 3rd edition, ed. by Thomas M. Shapiro (2005). Boston: McGraw Hill, p. 264-270.