Diffusing the Straw Man (pt 2 of 2)

Diffusing the Straw Man (pt 2 of 2)

Part 2 of Diffusing the Straw Man.  If you didn’t read part 1, I’d encourage you to check it out.  This is simply an extension of the discussion, where I identify 2 more common straw men.  Without further ado…

“What’s the fuss with Black Lives Matter?  ALL Lives Matter.”

Maybe here I’ll pull in some tools.  Are you familiar with the idea of social hierarchies?  So, it literally means that persons within a group can be ranked based on certain attributes they possess: education, household income, the neighborhood they live in, whether or not they’re married (and perhaps who they’re married to), the car they drive, etc.  It can be more personal than that though.  It could include things like height, weight, gender, the color of your skin, etc.

It varies from group to group.  A social hierarchy for a law firm will be different from a social hierarchy for a fast food restaurant.  And it varies from culture to culture and society to society.  Social hierarchy in India is probably different from social hierarchy in America.

But everyone can be ranked.  That’s the idea of a social hierarchy.  And in general, there’s support for the notion within the research community.  Sociologists, in particular, are interested in hierarchy because of its implications for inequality, and status, but psychologists, economic sociologists, and organizational behavior theorists (that’s me) study social hierarchy as well.

Let’s try some imagery from the Bible.  You know, the scriptures talk about the fatherless and widows quite a bit.

Why might that be?  Well, in the case of Israel during the Biblical era (now, too, really), we’re talking about a very conservative, male-dominated society.  For a wife to lose her husband is to threaten her livelihood.  For a son or daughter to be without a father is to be without a central household figure that would, otherwise, advocate for them and lead them.

That doesn’t sound like a good situation at all.  These are people that are disproportionately likely to be marginalized.

It’s no wonder, then, that James 1:27 says pure, undefiled religion is to take care of the widows and orphans.  Have you ever thought why it doesn’t say, “pure undefiled religion is to take care of everyone?”

It says take care of the widows and orphans because those are the people that are most likely to be marginalized.  They’re really low on the social hierarchy.  If the widows and orphans are being taken care of, then the people who aren’t widows and orphans, the people higher on the social hierarchy, are probably being taken care of, too.  That’s the entire idea of social hierarchy.  The people at the top are usually taken care of first.  The people at the bottom are usually taken care of last, if they’re taken care of at all.

I don’t think for a second that James 1:27 excludes people who aren’t widows or orphans… remember, Christianity is very relational.  After all, the Bible speaks at length about loving your neighbor (Mark 12:30-31; Matthew 22:36-40; Luke 10:25-27), as well as honoring your parents (Deuteronomy 5:16; Exodus 20:12; Ephesians 6:4), as well as submitting to others leaders as well (Hebrews 13:17; Romans 13:1; I Thessalonians 5:12)… but we’re not talking about neighbors… we’re not talking about parents… we’re not talking about leaders.  The Bible specifically mentions in James 1:27 we should take care of widows and orphans because, in that society (maybe ours, too), widows and orphans are lower on the social hierarchy.  They are MOST likely to NOT be taken care of, hence the verse.

What you never, ever hear anyone saying is, “Why does the Bible say pure, undefiled religion is to take care of widows and orphans?  You should take care of everybody.  Everybody matters.  We’re all important.”

Now, I know what you’re thinking.

This sounds absolutely ridiculous.  Anybody who says that sounds like a huge jerk. 

Nevertheless, comments like those largely parallel comments on All Lives Matter.  Interestingly though, All Lives Matter is highly legitimized, although it’s a straw man, for sure.  We don’t think of people who say All Lives Matter as jerks.  But in some ways, the notion is the same.  Black Lives Matter is a movement that’s attempting to draw attention to people lower in the social hierarchy that are being mistreated.  In the same way saying, “pure, undefiled religion is to take care of EVERYONE,” shifts the attention away from marginalized groups in James 1:27, All Lives Matter does something similar.

You’re taking the focus off a group that believes they’re lower within the social hierarchy.  Whether that’s actually true or not is a different conversation entirely and indeed, one worth having, but if your response to Black Lives Matter is ALL Lives Matter, it certainly appears you missed the entire point that was being made.

Here’s another one.  Psalm 68:5 says God is the father of the fatherless and protector of orphans.  Well, I grew up with my father.  Both parents, in fact.  Does that mean God doesn’t want to be my dad?  Or that God doesn’t want to protect me?

*GASP*.

Of course not.  We both know that’s ridiculous.  How would we respond to someone who says, “I just can’t support the Bible, man.  I read those verses on God being a protector of orphans, and I just really feel like God should be standing up for everyone, you know?”  I mean, I think most of us would agree that a comment like that draws attention to something that’s painstakingly obvious.  Perhaps it’s so obvious that it doesn’t need stating, which is maybe why I say it’s ridiculous.

Of course God is a protector of everyone.  But that’s not the focus of that verse.  There’s a time to talk about everyone, and there’s a time to talk about widows and orphans.  In fact, I think one of the reasons we have this verse is because widows and orphans are quite likely to be overlooked altogether.  In our discussion of EVERYONE, it’s easy to overlook widows and orphans.  We don’t forget the men.  And we don’t forget the people from prominent families.  And we don’t forget highly esteemed political or military leaders.  We certainly don’t forget the social elites.  We don’t forget the wealthy.  Who are we leaving out?  WE FORGOT ABOUT THE WIDOWS AND ORPHANS.  AGAIN.

Sometimes they’re an afterthought, but more likely, they don’t come up in the conversation at all.  No surprises.  They’re lower on the social hierarchy.

God is making it clear He protects everyone, EVEN THE FATHERLESS AND ORPHANS…

God is making it clear He protects everyone, EVEN THE PEOPLE THAT OTHERS MAY NOT LOOK OUT FOR.

God is making it clear He protects everyone, EVEN THE PEOPLE WHO DON’T HAVE ANYTHING TO PROTECT THEMSELVES WITH.

The exact same argument applies with Black Lives Matter.

Nobody is saying White Lives Don’t Matter.

Nobody is saying Blue Lives Don’t Matter.

Nobody is saying Black Lives Matter MORE.

But because we’re lower on the social hierarchy (my opinion), if our lives matter, then the life of everyone higher on the social hierarchy is going to matter, too, white people and police officers included.  It’s like me seeing an orphan with a sign that says “Orphan Lives Matter” and me saying ALL Lives Matter.

That’s absolutely ludicrous.  We don’t say nice things about people who do stuff like that.  Nevertheless, the All Lives Matter response maintains its legitimacy, although it misrepresents the argument for Black Lives Matter.

But there’s more.  Black Lives Matter isn’t just about the death of black men and women.  More broadly, and perhaps more importantly, it’s about police brutality.  It’s about the lethal apprehension of suspects, when many in the general public aren’t convinced these suspects posed a lethal threat to the officers present.  It’s about accountability for those who have sworn to protect and serve, when they kill suspects without weapons and the case doesn’t even go to trial.

Police reform isn’t just a ‘black people’ problem.

Police brutality isn’t just a ‘black people’ problem.

Accountability for men and women in authority isn’t just a ‘black people’ problem.

That’s EVERYONE’s problem, although it, perhaps, poses the greatest threat to those lower in the social hierarchy (hence the name ‘Black Lives Matter’).  Since it’s EVERYONE’s problem, we all benefit from the solution as well.  Don’t be thrown by the name.  Just like everyone benefits from buses, and trains, and sidewalks, I think everyone benefits from police reform.  Well functioning law enforcement is appealing, suitable, and fitting to have in a modern, industrialized state.  Don’t politicize it and make it an issue just for one race of people.  Black Lives Matter is a discussion we should ALL take interest in, if we want to feel safe from the abuse of authority in the form of law enforcement.

But when your response to Black Lives Matter is All Lives Matter or Blue Lives Matter, again, I liken it to the verses I mentioned earlier which talk about widows or orphans and then wondering why the verses only mention them instead of mentioning ‘EVERYONE’.

My Opinion: All Lives Matter is a strawman.  It misrepresents the case for Black Lives Matter.

*Let me be clear, at the risk of being misunderstood.  I support our officers.  I also support police reform.  They’re not mutually exclusive.*

“Segregation ended in 1964.  Why do we still need HBCU’s?  We don’t have Historically White Colleges.”  

So, a few thoughts, again.  Let’s start with the easy… to say, “We don’t have Historically White Colleges & Universities,” shows, at best, a certain ignorance about American history.  Academic institutions, at least in part, were built to 1. Educate & or Train and 2. Improve Social Mobility.  For the overwhelming majority of American history, education and social mobility were NOT intended for black people.  It’s only recently, as late as 1964, that the American dream, in its fullness, was extended to all of America’s citizens, black people included.

Until then, we felt perfectly fine telling people that places of learning were for whites (not blacks), and indeed, we did exactly that.

While universities today pride themselves on how progressive and diverse they are, not even 100 years ago, the overwhelming majority of these institutions would have been described as institutions for white people.  So, to say we don’t have Historically White Colleges & Universities is flat out wrong.

Further, most of these historically white colleges and universities are still predominantly white, in the same way that most HBCU’s are predominantly black, although I’ll concede, statistically, that’s easier to rationalize given America is 61% white vs. 13% black.  That’s 100% true; it’s a fair observation.  Either way, we definitely have historically white colleges and universities… even my alma mater, the University of Pittsburgh, a phenomenal institution.  So, don’t be misinformed.

Jim Crow and segregation weren’t inventions by black people.  They weren’t our idea.  We were excluded from white places.  We weren’t invited, welcomed, or desired in those places.  While segregation officially ended in 1964, unfortunately, there are still [SOME] people who, implicitly, subscribe to the Jim Crow mantra.  To them, admitting historically underrepresented students is to reduce the prestige of a university, and black students and professionals moving into a neighborhood means the neighborhood is taking a turn for the worst.  Because things that are white are almost always better.  At least in part, we have colonialism to thank for that kind of thinking…

When black people are in historically white spaces, people question their intentions or motives or feel entitled to an explanation as to why they’re there… people may assume I’m trying to break into a house I own and pay a mortgage for… or burglar an Airbnb that I lawfully rented… or stir up trouble and harass people in a lobby, store front, etc.

Suffice to say, unfortunately, America is still adjusting to having people of color, perhaps especially black people, in spaces that are/were historically white (I’ve wrote on this at length; you can see my post ‘To be Black in Historically White Spaces’).

Beyond that though, colleges and universities are institutions of learning.  Should I rewrite my notes on Black History Month?  Many, many black men and women have matriculated through K-12 and haven’t had the opportunity to study their history.  Again, based on sociohistorical context, these programs (Africana studies, African American Studies, etc.) are frequently underfunded at state schools and private schools, and quite often, in the midst of budget cuts for the school, they’re hit immediately.

**To be fair, part of that is a broader issue of the liberal arts and humanities being underfunded, but the other part of that, of course, is simply the politics of higher education.** 

If you can’t make a case to the dean, the provost, the President, or whomever, for the need for your department, you’ll have a very difficult time attracting funding.  So, God help you if your provost doesn’t understand Africana Studies or how it contributes to the broader academic community.  Or if he/she just thinks Africana Studies is a racist department.  Or if he/she doesn’t think it’s a prestigious field of study.  Or maybe he/she just doesn’t like the subject matter.

Or he/she doesn’t like black people.  I wish I were kidding, but I’m being completely serious.  These people are human, after all.  And unfortunately, we can be corrupt at heart.  Examples abound, so I’ll spare us both.

To me, when I think about a group of people that have been robbed of 400 years of history, I find the lack of interest in learning more about them, at an academic institution, a bit telling.  We probably invest a lot more money in things that are of equal importance but we probably know far, far more about.  Yet and still, we scramble for funding at most state and private schools to get faculty, admins, classroom space, research funds, etc. for disciplines that study the African diaspora.

And so, many black students look forward to attending HBCU’s, having an opportunity to learn about their history… and also do so in a space where they’re less likely to be marginalized, because they’re less than 5% of the student population (frequently the case at better state schools; the University of Pittsburgh was 6% black while I was an undergrad there).

Beyond that though, talk to your friends in higher education.  I think the keen, honest ones at predominantly white institutions will note there’s a great deal of difficulty attracting and retaining black students.  There’s a whole host of reasons for that, and we really don’t have time to chop it up about specifics, but I will say a few things.  Mentoring improves student outcomes in every area and at every level in higher education, and black students have very few resources on campus who look like them and are from similar communities.  Let’s just be 100 about it.  When you couple that with the fact that they’re disproportionately likely to come from “at-risk” backgrounds, this is just a disaster waiting to happen.

And indeed, in many cases, we see just that: a trainwreck in slow motion.

Say what you will about HBCU’s, but just make sure you do your homework.  These schools have, directly and indirectly, produced thousands (yes, you read that correctly) of black doctors, lawyers, engineers, and PhD’s, all professions where blacks have been historically underrepresented.  I think when you couple that with the systemic racism and privilege that can manifest quite frequently in higher education, making black students disproportionately more likely to be excluded from America’s best schools (ie. large, public universities and private schools), if students believe an HBCU is in their best interest socially and professionally… okay.  So what?

Moreover, I think for most black students who attend HBCU’s, this is probably the closest thing to a culturally immersive experience they’ll ever have.  For a Mexican American, they learn about Mexico from their parents.  They may even venture to Mexico periodically.  For a Chinese American, they learn about China from their parents. They may even venture to China periodically.  For hundreds of thousands of black youth across America, they grow up having very little idea of who they are and where they’re from because they’ve been robbed of part of that history.  Further, America, unfortunately, doesn’t always feed them a positive message about who they are or where they’re from.  Prejudice and racism are both still real.  These bright men and women may elect to attend an HBCU as a culturally immersive experience.

They’ll learn a lot about who they are and where they’re from.  There’ll be an abundance of men and women on campus that will make great, potential mentors: men and women who may be from similar communities and similar backgrounds.  In the extreme, they undo several years of extremely damaging prejudice and racist thoughts and beliefs about themselves, as well as other black men and women, that they’ve internalized (perhaps without even knowing) and they learn to see that they can soar to amazing heights, as many other black men and women have throughout history.

Maybe that sounds mushy and sentimental, but that doesn’t make it untrue.  And while I think the diversity on a college campus is an absolutely beautiful thing, I think we have to be honest about the reality that some of these students are going to schools where they don’t have a support system, and the system is kind of set up for them to fail.  So, I think we need to be a bit open minded and supportive of things that appear to produce results.

Say what you will about HBCU’s, but they’ve produced an exceptionally high number of black professionals in disciplines where we’ve struggled to improve the pipeline, even post Jim Crow (ie. 60+ years later).  Law.  Medicine.  Engineering.  Academia.  And more.  Certainly, these institutions aren’t perfect, but let’s not misrepresent what they do or the impact they’ve had.

Finally, for the record, anyone is welcome to study at an HBCU.  But let’s be honest, most people who aren’t black aren’t interested in studying at a historically black institution for higher education, although they’re certainly permitted and welcome to.  Ironically, most of America’s schools are historically white institutions, even though we seem to make all this fuss about historically black institutions.

*Shrugs*

I’ll admit, I probably didn’t do the best job unpacking this final point, but there’s much to cover here.  If you went to an HBCU, feel free to chime in, seriously.

My opinion: Historically White Colleges are a straw man.  I think that argument misrepresents the history of segregation in America, as well as present day realities on university politics, access, and exclusion in higher education.

This a lot for one post.  Feedback welcome.

In nothing but love,

Nnadmi