Dear Amy: My parents are in the habit of mentioning a person’s race or ethnicity whenever they tell a story, although it has absolutely nothing to do with the context and only serves to point out that the person is not white.
For example, “The coolest black scout came to the door” or “I saw my Chinese co-worker at the store!” or “my Filipino neighbor told me about a great book”. I tried to ask nicely why they feel the need to share the racial or ethnic characteristics of the people they meet, but they are on the defensive and say that I am being very sensitive.
Is this a strange generation thing (they are in the early 70s)? They are kind people, but I feel like they are being racist without knowing it, and it makes me very uncomfortable. Am I being too sensitive?
Thoughts?
– Asking
Dear Wondering: Your parents are revealing their underlying perception that whites exist as the norm, needing a qualifying descriptor for any non-white person who can cross their path. This is the essence of privilege and also reflects the world as they have experienced it over the decades.
One way to insist a little on your point of view is to use the typical descriptor and direct it back to them.
Here is an example:
They said, “Tom, our mechanic, said we need new snow tires.”
You: “You forgot to mention Tom’s race”.
They said: “This is because he is white”.
You: “Oh, well, usually when you mention people I don’t know, you say what race they are. Shouldn’t that apply to white people too? I am pointing this out because it is something that I would like you to think about doing differently. “
After that, I think you should let it go. Their defensive attitude indicates that they will not admit to you that they are trying to change this reflective behavior, but you will have given them a reason to think about it.
Dear Amy: You recently posted my question in your column. I signed my question: No Crystals For Me. In my question, I told you about my frustration with my therapist, who suggested a book for me to read, full of soul looks, crystals and a general approach that I described as pseudoscience and “woo -woo “.
It was good therapy to even write the letter for you.
I thought about how many times the advice given for many situations was to speak for yourself. This seems to be difficult for many people.
I did what you suggested and took my concerns honestly to my therapist.
I asked him if the book was at the heart of his approach to therapy, because if it were, I couldn’t benefit from it.
Well, it turned out that the book is not important for your therapy. We both use this as an opening for a good discussion.
In writing my concerns, you helped me before you even responded to my letter. Thanks.
And to all of those who commented that I should just leave the therapist immediately, I say, “You guys are definitely impatient.”
– There are no crystals for me!
Dear No Crystals: In my answer, I wrote: “Be honest! Tell her that you are resistant to this specific approach and ask if she has a different recommendation. She will probably ask you to talk about your reaction, and that conversation can lead to insight. “
Based on what you say, it happened, proving that your therapist has the ability to use the information you provide to help you. She’s listening.
I am grateful that you mentioned that the very act of asking me the question helped you to come up with the answer on your own. This is also “good therapy”.
Dear Amy: As I sit here with my Christmas cards, I think about how much these cards mean to me each year.
Each card we receive in the mail is placed in a beautiful basket in our living room.
Then, on a quiet night, just before Christmas, we sat down together and opened them one at a time.
We like them very much and consider each one a small gift from the sender, who spent time and money thinking about us.
During this year of a pandemic and the impossibility of visiting so many people, these “gifts” are especially precious.
– Lady in Michigan
Dear Madam: Even though my own Christmas cards routinely turn into “Happy New Year” cards, I agree that – this year, especially – these missives in the mail bring even more love than usual.
You can send an email to Amy Dickinson at [email protected] or send a letter to Ask Amy, PO Box 194, Freeville, NY 13068.