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“Identity seems to be the garment with which one covers the nakedness of the self…” –James Baldwin
For some of us, one of the most intimidating things we can do is stand before our naked reflection in a mirror. Nakedness confronts us with stark realities about our physical being that we might prefer to keep hidden. It exposes what we perceive to be the good, the bad and the ‘ugly’ parts of ourselves. It can make us feel vulnerable and defenseless, insignificant and powerless, angry or depressed. Nakedness brings us face to face with our own humanness and our own mortality; our own truth. No matter what power and confidence we project to the world, in the end, nakedness reminds us how imperfect we are.
Most of us have a physical feature that we prefer to hide from ourselves and from others. In private, we can choose to see our naked selves truly or not; we can turn away, cover ourselves, or adjust the lighting. Rarely would any of us voluntarily risk nakedness in public; it would likely bring deep humiliation, fear, shame, and even questions about our judgment, competence and worthiness. We can exercise some control over our physical selves for public scrutiny; we can use undergarments that restructure and reshape our bodies to produce a more desirable effect.
Which brings me to a ‘nakedness’ of another sort; the kind we feel when we take a critical look inside ourselves and confront our own very personal biases.
Let’s begin with the undeniable fact that we all have biases – those inflexible modes of thinking or behaving that condition our ways of being in the world with others. No one is exempt. Most of our biases are benign. Some we can’t begin to explain. For example, my daughter refuses to eat toasted bread; I love toast. Some people like red; others hate it. I like classical guitar music; my former dean hated it (and I sometimes played it loudly in my office when I was angry at her).
But none of these kinds of preferences really harm other people. It’s the kind of bias that hurts others that should cause self-reflection and concern.
Years ago, I heard a song called Short People, by Randy Newman. Although on the surface it seems lighthearted and silly, it is satirical, addressing our human tendency to have biases which seem inconsequential until we hold them up to scrutiny. In part, Newman sings:
Short people got no reason to live…
They got little hands
And little eyes
And they walk around
Tellin’ great big lies
They got little noses
And tiny little teeth
They wear platform shoes
On their nasty little feetWell, I don’t want no short people
Don’t want no short people
Don’t want no short people
Round here…
Buried in the lyrics is Newman’s powerful message: “Short people are the same as you and I… All men are brothers until the day they die.” Newman is not writing about bias against short people. Instead, he’s asking us to confront the fact that all of us, regardless of ethnicity, language, race, nationality, religion, age, or socio-economic status, harbor conscious or unconscious biases and prejudices. Some are publicly stated and flagrant, others are hidden and unexpressed.
In America, hurtful biases and prejudices against people because of some perceived difference often places us in an uncomfortable position morally. Whether our sense of morality has a religious foundation (i.e. the Ten Commandments), or a secular one (i.e. a belief in the democratic principles of freedom, justice, fairness, etc.), on the surface, most Americans abhor hurtful bias. But when we pay attention, we can see that we are all guilty.
Understanding our personal biases is quite complex. For example, we can simultaneously reject and embrace biases that hurt or demean, or dismiss others (because they are short, or tall, or light or dark, or rich or poor, etc.). If we look closely, we can see that our personal ambivalence about our own biases mirrors America’s national ambivalence about bias. This is evident in the national debates that swirl around us every day.
A few years ago, Donald Sterling, the billionaire owner of a major basketball franchise, exposed this kind of contradiction that shocked the nation and perhaps the world. He stated openly (and vehemently) that he didn’t want Black people to attend his team’s basketball games. His position seemed disconnected from the fact that the team, a major source of his income, is largely composed of Black men. His comments seemed senseless, even lunatic on the surface. But they make more sense when we remember that some of our biases are conscious; others are not. And whether conscious or unconscious (implicit), biases influence our responses and behaviors.
The ways we are socialized influence our attitudes, values and prejudices, and how we view the world and relate to the people in it (especially those we perceive as the ‘other’). Although Sterling’s comments are offensive, blatant and public, they are also instructive. His outrageous comments made the news because of his significant power and influence. But he is not an anomaly. In smaller, less obvious ways, how many of us do or say the same kinds of things every day?
None of us is perfect. None of us wants to stand naked in front of the world and expose those parts of our identity that make us uncomfortable. But in private, we can reflect. We can confront our selves with honesty – even when it is brutal. We can work on our selves and try to face and deconstruct the personal biases that inform what we say and do, and how we think about those who are different.
Engaging in honest self-reflection is not easy, but it’s the only way to challenge personal bias and begin the tricky, often painful process of changing beliefs and behaviors that are inconsistent with our moral framework. We have to work on being the people we say we are. And it is worth the hard work; when we eliminate acting on negative personal bias, our society is strengthened and enriched. Conversely, when we ignore these biases, our personal humanity shrivels a bit, and our society is weakened and diminished.
May all our mirrors help guide us there.
Gloria Graves Holmes, PhD, is Professor Emerita in the School of Education at Quinnipiac University, and a Professor of education at the University of South Carolina. She is author of “Justice in Search of Leaders, A Handbook for Equity Driven School Leadership.” Published in 2018, the book encourages educators to acknowledge that we all have racial identities and biases that inform professional practice, and to reflect on the significance of this. It means thinking deeply about subjects which make us uncomfortable and cause us to retreat to the safety of our comfort zones. This is necessary because for most under-served students, there is no retreat and no safety; there are only discomfort zones. Dr. Holmes earned a PhD in English and MA in Liberal Studies from SUNY Stony Brook, and a MS in English and Education from Queens College in NY.
To reach Dr. Holmes directly: Gloria.Holmes@quinnipiac.edu