Implicit and Blatant Racism: An Interview with Naima Dean

Flip becomes aware of implicit racism in a conversation with his friend Ricki after an incident in a tourist shop:
 

 I don’t know why I can’t wrap my head around this. Is it because my whole entire family is white, and I never thought I would ever be treated any differently than they would?
     “So the minute that woman saw us walk through the door she said to herself, ‘uh-oh, two Latino boys, I better keep a close eye on them cause they’re going to rob me blind?’”
     Ricki shakes his head. “I honestly don’t think she put it all together. Thats what I’m saying it can be subtle and sometimes people aren’t even aware they’re doing it.”
     “How do you know so much about this?”
     “I’m brown, dude. I’m brown in white America, and knowing it isn’t a choice...”
 

Flip has had less exposure to, and no awareness of, the ways that implicit racism and bias impact people of color. Growing up in the Mission District of San Francisco where shop owners are Latino, and the community is extremely diverse, the color of his skin and his ethnic heritage were never called into attention. When he moves to Marin where 85% of the county is white he becomes acutely aware of his place as a person of color amid a sea of white.
  

Naima Dean grew up in San Francisco until the age of five when she moved to Kentfield, a town in Marin County similar in ethnic make up to that of Mill Valley and Sausalito, although actually even less diverse.
 

Naima is a Librarian II – Branch Manager, at the Western Addition branch of the San Francisco Public Library. As you will see in our interview, the library has a special place in Naima’s story and the fact that she became a librarian and works tirelessly to provide not only a safe place for its patrons, but one that stimulates an interest in learning for kids is no accident. Naima implemented a literacy tutoring program called Growing Readers, aimed at assisting children in grades K-3 in an effort to help strengthen the reading instruction they receive in school. Before getting her MLIS, Masters in Library and Information Science, Naima worked in the Mill Valley Library where she also ran many literacy-based and creative arts programs for children, such as a weekly reading and craft series based on popular children’s books, Personalized Stepping Stones, Weekly Storytimes for children and their caregivers and in the hiring of presenters to provide cultural entertainment in an effort to celebrate diversity.
 

NV:  Naima thank you so much for taking the time to meet with me. I know that your commitment to talk about race and to educate by example are key to who you are in your personal life and at work. You recently attended a presentation for teachers and parents  -  Conversation: Race and Systemic Equity Transformation with Dr. Lori A. Watson hosted by the Mill Valley School District to address the continued issues of racism and the importance of talking about race and understanding implicit bias. So let’s keep that discussion open here.
 
Tell us about your family and where you grew up.
 

ND:  My mother is British and white, and my father is African American. I am biracial and identify as black. My father is the grand link in the family for me personally. My family is connected through that link, although it is a very disconnected family. I have three other siblings, and we are from three different mothers. I share a mother with my brother, Ola, my sister Isa is between us, and I have an older, estranged brother, Todd. We are all bi-racial.  
 

I grew up in the Bay Area. I was in San Francisco until I was five then we moved to Kentfield in Marin County. My mother was a white British woman who considered herself a Hindi – she was into meditation, yoga, and started the first vegetarian restaurant at the College of Marin with a few other friends. I was the only black kid in the entire school in Kentfield. Add to that the fact that my mother wore Saris and my dad dressed in blue jeans while the people around us drove expensive cars and wore short tennis skirts and suits; I spent the bulk of my life in the library!
 

My dad would live with us periodically, but I lived primarily with my mother and brother. I was hard to manage as I aged, so I would often be sent to stay with my dad in San Francisco, which was great because I was always exposed to culture through his jazz friends and regular visits to the Mission for tortillas and chips, Japantown for sushi and the Filmore for fried fish and BBQ. When I was around twelve years old,  my mother had a nervous breakdown and her mental illness came to the surface. I then, began to move around a bit. I lived in Richmond, San Rafael, Stinson Beach, and eventually, when I turned sixteen, I moved in with my dad permanently. He was living in San Francisco. I continued to go to high school in Marin though. One thing I noticed when I was in Richmond, and in black neighborhoods in San Francisco, was that I didn’t fit in. I felt awkward and uncomfortable to be around all black people, as I was conscious of being half white. In Richmond, I hung out more with the hispanics. I didn’t really fit in anywhere then, and even to this day, I rarely feel as if I fit in.
 

NV:  How do you think growing up as a black person in Marin County impacted you as a child?
 

ND: It impacted me a great deal. I never felt safe or secure. There was name calling, and I never felt anyone was attracted to me. I remember once when we were playing spin the bottle, the boy who was supposed to kiss me said, “I’m not kissing her!”  Another boy said, “Well, I will.” Not everyone was mean. I had lots of friends, but at times I wondered if their parents told them to be my friend. You just don’t know what’s genuine.
  

My family was as poor as poor could be. We didn’t drive fancy cars or go to Hawaii or Tahoe for ski trips, or have second homes like so many others in Marin County. My clothes came from thrift shops, which added to my anxieties related to being different. I had to walk to school with my mom. On the way to school with my white mom we would pass a group of black maids sitting on a stone wall waiting to be picked up by their bosses to take them up the hill, to their jobs in Kent Woodlands. When I walked by with my white mother I saw the pity in their eyes, because I had a white mom.
  

My dad was a jazz musician and opened a club, The Both/And in San Francisco. His jazz community loved and praised me. I went to the Church of Coltran. My parents named me Naima. The jazz community loved that.
 
NV:  Are there things you learned from growing up in Marin that were beneficial?
 

ND:  Yes, for sure. I learned how to get along with people of all races, and not be a racist. I was raised not to be a racist. My dad’s club was called the Both/And – to include all, at a time when inclusiveness was a political and civil struggle. My existence was cross cultural, it broke down separatism. I like to celebrate our likenesses not just our differences. So often people talk about celebrating cultural differences, but I like to look at the things that link us together, not those that separate us. It’s hard to get support in that though. I’m not comfortable when I’m with a group of black friends and I hear them talking badly about white people, but I understand. When I hear white people make ignorant comments, I am also uncomfortable.
  

I benefitted from getting a white kid’s education in a white people’s school. I’m not saying that only schools that are mostly white give a good education, but we know it’s different much of the time. Although I benefitted academically, what I didn’t learn in these schools was about being a person of color.
 

NV:  In Sliding into Home, Flip begins to notice how others see him, and how he therefore, sees himself for the first time when he moves from his predominantly Latino neighborhood in SF to Marin County. Do you remember the first time you experienced racism? Can you share with us how that impacted you as a child?
 

ND:  I remember the first time I was informed an incident was racism. I was five years old walking with my mom and dad in Kentfield. There was a Goodwill box outside what is now Woodlands Market but was then The Carriage House. There was stuff on the ground around the box and my mom saw all these little 50’s dresses. She picked them up and started holding them up and showing them to us. The police rolled up and made a scene, they told us to put the stuff back and said we were stealing. It was scary. It was the first time for me, not the last, dealing with the police. As we were walking away my parents were angrily protesting, asking why it was stealing if the stuff was on the ground. They went on about the racist bleep bleep cops, and my mom celebrated the fact that she had taken a few of the dresses with her anyway. Whenever I wore those dresses I remembered that incident.
 

I remember in first grade we shared desks with other kids. The classmate I shared a desk with drew a line on the desk and told me not to cross that line. No one else had that line on their desk. By the time I reached sixth, seventh, and eighth grade, I heard things like “spear chucker,” and “jungle bunny” from the kids at Kent Middle School. I learned to fight back, but I’d spend a lot of my lunches in the office. I never stood up for myself with the teachers though.
  

Another thing that stands out was in both elementary and middle school, when discussions about history, and slavery in particular came up, I was offered to go to the library rather than stay for the discussion. I did.
 

NV:  Ultimately Flip accepts that being a person of color in this country, and particularly where he lives means he will be treated differently. He feels he will be able to manage this as long as people are straight with him. Racism can be subtle, constant and pervasive – can you tell us how it feels to you when someone is openly racist, as opposed to the institutionalized racism that you come up against every day?
 

ND:  For me it’s a relief to have it out in the open rather than having to guess, or try to understand what’s going on. It’s easier when it’s obvious to just say to myself, “You are a racist fool,” than to have to wonder if an interaction was racist or not. With Trump in office, we are bombarded with racism. It is painful, but it’s easier. I believe that blatant racism leads to change – you can talk about it. It’s easier to deal with the truth than a lie. I might not like the truth but I can deal with it. Oddly, I have more respect for people who own their racism.  Institutionalized racism is very hard to break through. People don’t see or even know they are racist.
 

NV:  Do you have any thoughts or comments on Sliding Into Home as it applies to your experience as a person of color growing up in the United States, and more specifically, Marin County?
 

ND:  I can identify with Flip’s character. He looks at his life outside his life. When Steve comes around, he feels his energy, he knows he’s there. I can relate to that sense of hyper-vigilance as a person of color. Flip sees his life from the outside of his being. He doesn’t know who to trust. He wants to trust Zorba – Zorba is an “other” he can identify with. I have always sought out “others”– the nerd, the loser, the weirdos, the town drug addict or homeless person, they were all my “friends.”
  

The scene in the tourist shop was really perfect. It described exactly what happens for people of color. I can relate to Flip’s dark attitude, the sour bitterness he feels, and the testing of boundaries. There’s a low heat simmering that I understand. An anger that simmers until it boils over because, as a person of color, you have to suppress yourself so much. He couldn’t call Steve out because he didn’t have the tools, or the support around him.
  

I liked the dynamics of the book. I identified with the parents’ struggles around income, and not being present to support their children.
 

NV  Naima it’s an honor to have spoken with you. I personally want to thank you for the hard work you do every day to educate children and to provide them with a place where they feel safe. I know your work extends far beyond just the children, but I imagine that for you to be able to provide that sense of safety as you once felt it yourself in the library is a very powerful and healing thing. You are a treasure and an inspiration. Thank you.



DISCUSSION QUESTIONS

1.  Give examples of blatant and implicit racism. As a person of color how do each of these impact you. If you are not a person of color, try to imagine how it might impact you.

2.  Talk about the difference between race and culture. 

Previous
Previous

Adoption and Race: An Interview With 13 Year Old TK

Next
Next

Differences: A Story With a Message