July 12, 2010
News Flash: Reverse-Racism Is Still Racism
Recently, a lovely lass named Stacey commented that she is "an eat out girl," and I almost peed in my pants. Because I am twelve. Happily, she left her URL, and I followed it to find a very cool blog that is my new fav. (Heather, seriously, you just don't post enough, honey.)
Sadly, I do not have a Blogger account, which means that I can't comment on her blog. So I will comment here. On this post entitled "Deaf Negro."
Stacey, thank you. Thank you for reminding me that I don't always have to be hilarious. That sometimes, I can forego the punchline and snarkiness and just vent my spleen. And thank you, most of all, for thwaping me in the head with the truth -- getting pissed at "people of color" does not necessarily make you a racist.
Yeah, "people of color." PoC. That's this year's politically-correct term for anyone and everyone who is non-white. It's kind of hilarious, isn't it? I mean, it tries so hard to be all-inclusive and non-offensive that it's almost... retroffensive. I mean, how is that different from "colored" of the 60s?
Anyhoo, here's my beef. I've lived in an affluent, (nearly) all-white suburb of Chicago for the majority of my life. And I had to get a job with a church in order to learn about racism.
Oh, but the irony gets better.
I get along perfectly with all the black people that I've worked with. (No one is calling me "Scandinavian-American," so if I'm "white," they are "black.") Apparently, they even trust me enough to talk about their hair in my presence! Social taboo! And if they secretly resent me for my "white priviledge," they don't let on. So it's all good.
The few Asian people who work there... well, honestly, has anyone ever met an Asian person with a huge chip in their shoulder and something to prove? No. Asians are chill. Yes, I'm generalizing about an entire continent of people. Sue me.
I don't even mind when the random Middle Eastern chick who speaks with a really thick accent is impossible for me to understand when she reads the Lesson in Chapel. I'm mainly there for the music anyway.
Do I get annoyed when the Spanish-speaking people at work speak REALLY LOUDLY in their native tongue because the people around them can't understand them anyway, and therefore, there's no reason to use their Inside Voices? Yes. But that's because they are RUDE, not because they are Latino. And when they're speaking English, we get along famously. I don't even assume they're talking about me when they're speaking Spanish.
I actually enjoy working with a varitable cornicopia of races. I've learned a lot of cool things about people and the places they're from, the lives they've lived. Knowledge is power, and my co-workers have helped to stretch my mind to the ends of the earth. After living in a homogenous area all my life, I feel like more of a grown-up working in our little United Nations, you know?
I work with women who wear saris! I am worldly!
No, in the most tragic and poetic plot-twist ever, it is The Human Resources Department that houses the biggest fucking racists I've ever met. And worse? They hide behind their cry of "Diversity! Diversity!" I wanna punch them right in the throat.
When my current boss -- Head Boss, not PhD Boss -- was fighting H.R. to get me my measly six-month contract, HR Troll #2 actually said to him, "You can't hire her. Your department isn't diverse enough."
Head Boss adorably played stupid, saying, "Of course, we are. We're fifty percent women!"
(And if you don't think that women are a down-trodden minority who need every advantage they can get in order to get a fair wage, then you haven't seen the gender salary disparities where I work.)
But Troll #2 wasn't fooled. She acquiesced only because he played the surgery card: "While I'm on sick leave, recovering from surgery, I need to know that things here are running smoothly! This is the wrong time for us to make a staffing transition!"
Regardless, I had suspected all along that my easily-sunburned skin was going to be a liability. Why? Because EVERY ONE of my good work friends have confided to me multiple examples of underqualified PoC getting and keeping jobs they have no business doing, and being hand-selected for promotions they haven't earned.
Wenchie Is Not a Racist Disclaimer: I freely and happily confess that there are PoC where I work who have earned and deserved their positions. Nor are they the exception to the rule. (And I hate that I feel compelled to add this knee-jerk renouncement!)
As you know, I submitted an application and resume for another position here. (Why? Because I am a glutton for punishment. And the devil you know is better than the devil you don't.) The position is THREE pay-grades higher than the one I'm in now. And most importantly, it's a position that is, essentially, an aggregation of three other positions in that department (thank-you, recession-induced downsizing), ALL OF WHICH I HAVE DONE BEFORE.
That's right, you heard me -- I have temped in this department three times, and in the great "restructing" of us, my three temp positions were combined into one position.
It's like Franken-job -- designed specifically for ME. There's not a person in the world more qualified for this job than Yours Truly! I mean, it's a no-brainer, right?
Right...?
Right, and yet... I am losing sleeping, dreading the day when I see a brown-skinned, underqualified person take that position in my stead. And worse, I am composing, in my head, the huge YOU-CAN'T-HANDLE-THE-TRUTH-style speech I'm going to make before packing a box and storming off.
I will be stunned if I get this job because it means breaking a pattern I've watched over and over. Despite the fact that the department already has four times the required percentage of "diversity hires;" despite every, single person in that department begging me to apply for the position; despite the extremely black department head giving me exactly the information I needed for my resume and cover letter -- I will probably not get this job because H.R. has the final say in ALL hires.
How fucked up is that?
On Thursday, fifteen minutes before I was supposed to leave work, Rose came down to see me. (Rose is the Official Title's big, black secretary, if you'll remember. Okay, well, she's called The Executive Administrative Assistant. Whatever. She likes me, and she is HILARIOUS.)
"I know for a fact that it's just you and one other person who got follow-up interviews," she said.
"Really?"
"Yup. So you're a shoe-in!"
"Who's the other person???"
"Laura Miller."
"I don't know her..." So I looked her up on our company database. She's black. "Oh, I'm screwed."
"What?! No. Trust me -- you're a shoe-in."
"Well, that depends on who is making the decision. Because if HRT2 is making the decision, she's all about the Diversity Hire. And I am so not Diverse."
"Oh, fuck that. I'm all the diversity they need. 'Sides, you've got way more skills than Laura. She should just stay where she is and answer those phones, that's what she should do."
I cracked up. Laura's job is to answer phones and send people resources. So yeah, she's got about one-tenth the skills needed for the job. But she's BLACK. And she's very well-liked.
And now I'm more scared than I was before Rose visited. Nice to know that the Official Title's secretary is rooting for me -- over a fellow "sistah" even -- but I kinda wish she hadn't told me.
I smell HRT2's stench all over this. With Laura's pitiful resume, she shouldn't even have gotten a FIRST interview, let alone made it to a second.
I don't think I'm gonna get this job...
Comments
Yeah, that's the racism I didn't consider. It's ok. Soon, your Scandanavian ass will be a minority. wait. Play that card. There are NO Scandanavians in that position!!!
Thank you for loving my blog. I love yours, too. I'll make it so you can comment. I need encouragement.
Posted by: Stacey at July 12, 2010 05:43 PM