These types of false narratives are discussed in the encyclopedia.
As I mentioned earlier, there is often the misconception that if someone is benefiting from programs like affirmative action, they are getting an opportunity that they don’t deserve. Which is the furthest thing from true.
JAMIRA: Affirmative action is actually giving a gateway for institutions to be much more intentional when looking at the scope with which they’ve done their recruitment, their hiring, and actually say, “We need to take a closer look at why our internal biases have allowed us to look past minority candidates.” And so it was not to say that these minority candidates don’t have the qualifications. Oftentimes they’re actually more qualified than their supervisors. Right? We see that with how Black men who could have a college degree are less likely to get a job versus white men who have a prison record or simply a high school diploma.
So for me, affirmative action isn’t a negative thing. I think we’ve allowed the far right, our opposition typically, to create this narrative that those who get access to affirmative action are unequipped to have those jobs and are only there because of their racial, sexual, or gender identity, which is bullsh*t, because oftentimes when I’m the only one, I’m there for a reason, because those who are there can’t do the job that I’ve been hired to do.
One of the aspects of programs like affirmative action that gets overlooked is the positive impact they have, not only on communities of color but on the white spaces that they are bringing diversity to. As we’ve discussed, individuals are stronger and better for having more people around them who aren’t just like them. But so are places such as schools and businesses.
JAMIRA: When we think about culture, who drives the culture? Who creates the culture? It is people of color. And so the reason why it’s an important thing for organizations, nonprofits, companies, or entertainers or whatever to engage folks of color is because we can culturally bring something to that organization, that environment, that they have been lacking, which actually creates creativity, it drives innovation, and it actually improves the conditions for all of us and not just for the chosen few.
America is no different from the classroom in that YouTube video. It’s a high-stakes game of seeing who can shoot the paper into the basket, who has to work harder to make the shot, and who gets to shoot at all.
But the basket isn’t always an A in a class or a home in a wealthy area or a job. Things like who gets a chance to attend college or who gets called for an interview can end up having a huge impact on a person’s quality of life. And for some, the consequences can even be a matter of life and death.
The idea that affirmative action is a negative thing, while some people have not had to work at all for their success, is based in racism. As is the idea that these programs serve people of color primarily.
Programs like affirmative action are a small step toward course-correcting hundreds of years of oppression by people who not only get to take all the shots but also get to choose where they place the garbage can.
For so many little Black and brown boys and girls, “working twice as hard and being twice as good” isn’t enough. We also need programs to make sure our voices get to be heard.
We live in a country founded on land stolen from Native Americans and built by people stolen from Africa. A country that claims the value of “liberty and justice for all.”
But until “all” stops being “some,” the least America can do is have programs in place to give people a chance to make a shot.
By the time I got to college, I was still planning on becoming a lawyer, which meant taking on a major that would help me get there. When I started my freshman year, I learned that some students were actually taking on two majors, so of course my competitive juices started flowing, and I did the same.
I majored in political science and creative writing, which made sense for someone on a trajectory to be the next overpaid celebrity lawyer who would one day have his own show about a high-powered attorney living in New York City.
I’m not sure what I would have called the show, but the intro would have had a real gritty ’90s New York City vibe with a theme song by Mobb Deep. (If you don’t know who Mobb Deep is, this is another way that society has failed you. But don’t worry: I’ve included a must-listen playlist in the back of the book. Thank me later.)
Another thing I decided was to continue doing as many extracurriculars as possible, not just because I was still an overzealous teen but also because some extracurriculars paid stipends, and I was a very, very broke student.
There was only one issue: most of the opportunities for stipends were given to athletes, student government members, or members of dorm government. (Yes, our housing had governments.) Although I was in my athletic prime, there wasn’t much of a shot of walking on to any sports teams at a D1 school. But school and dorm politics I was made for, as I had done politics throughout high school.
Like any other level of politics, college campus politics is a popularity game. It’s all about who you know and who will tell other people to vote for you. I was lucky enough to be a part of a group of friends that very quickly became popular on campus. There was also my understanding of how to use Facebook and other digital tools to get people to know and like me (or at least just be familiar with my name).
Facebook had just started having wide appeal the summer before my freshman year, so not many people knew how to use it for evil yet. But I did. *Evil laugh*
Come to think of it, I might have built the roadmap for propaganda in the 2016 election. Oh, God . . . Am I responsible for Donald Trump?!
Because I had studied graphic design in high school, I was able to make logos, banners, and other campaign materials that my friends and I posted on Facebook, placed around the campus, and handed out at events.
My competition stood no chance; I handily won my race to join the student government and solidified my place as a stipend-earning student. I was a made man.
The race for dorm government was a few weeks later, and it proved to be far more difficult.
Our campus had five dorms, which students were divided into based on their major, extracurricular activities, and a survey we’d filled out while applying for housing.
Most of the students in the dorms were freshmen or sophomores, as juniors and seniors generally lived off campus. It was a way to keep people who would likely have similar personalities together and make building bonds and transitioning into college easier.
I’m not going to say this wasn’t a good tactic by the school. In theory it should work. They did enough to try to place people in situations to forge lifelong friendships, I suppose.
But honestly, at eighteen, the last thing most of us wanted to do was talk about life goals and career trajectories. Making friends was about who had extra Xbox controllers or, for some, fake IDs for beer.
Hi, Reader,
Don’t underage drink. Especially if it’s Natty Ice or Everclear; you’ll thank me one day.
Love,
Fred
I was placed in a dorm with other political science and double majors, as well as with business majors, pre-law students, pre-med students, and all the other kids whose families had probably told them what their careers were going to be since they were able to walk.
That said, there was one way that almost all of the people living in my dorm were similar: everyone was super ambitious, super broke, and determined to find ways to get stipends.
You’ll find being broke in college is a common theme, because the stuff is too expensive for anyone not from a wealthy family. Even if you get a full ride, keeping yourself alive is expensive. Say it with me: FREE COLLEGE FOR ALL.
One thing I did have going for me was that the administration at my school and more particularly my dorm was going through what much of the rest of the country was going through. Something I like to call the Obama Effect.
This was 2007, and while Barack Obama wasn’t president yet, many people
loved him and were excited about the possibility of him as president. He was attractive, smart, well spoken, had graduated from top schools, and was half Black. The last part is important, because it helped create some type of awakening for many white people.
For some white people, it seemed like it was the first time they had ever realized that people who weren’t white just might be worthy of respect and given access for their talent (sigh).
One thing I hated about this era was the number of times people would call me a “young Barack Obama.” While I’m sure they thought it was a compliment, to me it was just them saying I was similar to the only person who looks like me that they ever thought was intelligent.
The Obama Effect made people at my school want to find their own young Obamas who could help score them some diversity points. While it was deeply problematic, it was also an opportunity.
The residence directors and resident assistants of my dorm put up signs and let people know that they wanted our dorm government to represent “people from all backgrounds.” Which was a very politically correct way of saying, “The students who have run our dorm have always been white, and we need something else.”
So when I decided to run for president of the dorm, many people in the administration figured they were going to get their Obama. While they couldn’t openly say they were rooting for me, the administration did make sure I had the tools to succeed, and then some.
This may sound like there was some type of election influencing going on, but it was really just RAs telling me where I could get extra materials, letting me print flyers for free, and things like that.
There were four people running against me for the position, two of whom weren’t putting forth any effort to win; they were just hoping that people would randomly vote for them. The other two were not only putting forth effort; they were obsessed with winning. Their names were Abbie and Parker.
Abbie was a young white woman from California, and Parker was a young white openly gay guy from Maine. Both of them were also studying political science.
While the rest of us wanted the position in order to help pay for school and survive, neither of them needed it for that. They wanted the position because it was a way of adding to their résumés. And in Abbie’s case, she had an older sister who had been president of the dorm some years earlier, and she wanted to keep the legacy going.
The two of them came from well-off families, and it showed. They weren’t only printing flyers and using Facebook; they had purchased things like cookies and pens with their names on them, as if they were running for mayor.
Which is part of the reason the residence staff was giving me some help, because otherwise I wouldn’t have been in the race. How do you compete with free cookies and pens?
The other issue the residence staff had was that neither Abbie nor Parker wanted to do anything to help the residents of color, and most of the staff were people of color who were former residents. I was basically the people’s champion.
That was actually what my campaign slogan for both student government and dorm government was: Frederick Joseph, “The People’s Champion.”
At some point during campaigning, Abbie and Parker found out that I was being helped by the residence staff, and they made a complaint to the administration together.
The administration called a meeting to decide not only whether I should be disqualified from running for the position but also whether there should be repercussions for the residence staff members who had given me help.
Yes, all of this because they were trying to help my broke ass print flyers and design signs.
The meeting included Abbie, Parker, me, the residence staff, the director of residence life, and two of the school deans. It was, to say the least, A LOT.
The meeting was set up in the style of a debate, to a certain extent, with the deans and the director of residence life basically acting as judges.
Abbie and Parker went first and made the point that they felt I was being helped because I’m Black, and the residence staff wanted them to lose because they’re white, and that was reverse racism.
“Reverse racism” is not actually a thing. But we will talk more about that in a bit.
While the entire moment was annoying, there couldn’t have been a better situation for me to be in. Not only was I a debate master, but by that time, I had also spent most of my free time studying and learning about race. I was ready to rip them apart. Little did I know, so was the residence life staff.
Before I went up to speak, the residence life team had the opportunity to make their case. They explained that there were no policies against helping provide resources for students. They also explained that helping to even the playing field in this case was in the best interests of the students in the building who were from minority groups, as I was the candidate most likely to care about and plan to help them.
They also mentioned the fact that the dorm had never had a person of color as president, but it had the largest number of students of color of all the dorms.
The idea that I was the only candidate who could understand the residents from minority groups didn’t sit well with Abbie and Parker. Both of them jumped up to speak to the fact that Abbie was female and Parker was gay. They then went on to say that maybe I didn’t get it because I was a “straight guy.”
Once they finished, I had an opportunity to speak.
You’ve probably seen people get dunked on before, whether in real life or on video. It’s embarrassing for the person getting dunked on, and one of the greatest moments ever for the person doing the dunking. It shows that one person has dominance in one moment, in front of everyone around.
That pales in comparison to what I did to Abbie and Parker that day. I obliterated them and left what was remaining as a testament to everyone around me that I am not to be messed with.
For a visual demonstration that comes close to what I did, go search for Shawn Kemp dunking on Alton Lister. It’s the only thing close. Don’t even read on until you do it.
Okay, I’m going to trust that you’ve done it, so let’s continue. Enter Frederick Joseph, attorney-at-law.
I started by addressing the fact that they used the idea of reverse racism. I explained that reverse racism doesn’t exist; if something is racist, it is just racist. To argue that something is an example of reverse racism would mean that the person with the issue knows that “normal” racism—aka racism—doesn’t affect them.
And the truth is, racism and racist systems in America don’t adversely impact white people. This is because all aspects of racism in America are rooted in white supremacy and are designed to negatively impact everyone except white people.
Abbie jumped up and said that this was “like affirmative action, which is reverse racism.”
I shot this down, too. I explained that affirmative action and programs like it were not reverse racism—which, again, isn’t actually a thing; they were created to correct the unbalance caused by racism and white supremacy. Then I explained that the term “reverse racism” actually became popular during the time that affirmative action was created because of a backlash by white people who were mad that programs were created to help people of color prosper.
I then went on to educate them about the fact that those programs don’t help only people of color—they also help other minority groups, such as women and people who are gay. So much for reverse racism.
At this point, Abbie smartly backed off the argument that what was happening was racist and instead argued that she and Parker also should have gotten help, then, since she was a woman and Parker was gay.
I actually agreed with her on this point and told her as much—but before she could get too excited, I pointed out that that was an argument for each candidate having a fair chance and equal resources. Which meant not giving out cookies and pens while others are drawing posters.
Oh, but I wasn’t done yet, my friends! I also added that thinking things like reverse racism existed ac
tually demonstrated how ill qualified they both were to represent students of color.
Frederick drives the lane and dunks on two defenders! The crowd goes wild!
After the meeting, the administrators decided that the election in our dorm and all dorms on campus should be fair. This meant that candidates couldn’t receive disproportionate resources from staff; each had to be equally resourced with printing and the other things I was receiving. But “fair” also meant that candidates couldn’t campaign beyond the parameters set, which included no personally financed gifts, such as cookies and pens.
Abbie and Parker were pissed; their plan had backfired. Not only were they not able to use the one advantage they had over me (money), but I also let students know that my opponents had tried to stop our dorm from having its first president of color because they felt like the help I was given was reverse racism.
Not only did the residents of color get angry at them, but so did the white students who couldn’t believe that Abbie and Parker had tried to stop “our school’s own Barack Obama.”
This was the only time I didn’t mind the Barack Obama stereotype. Shout-out to the Obama Effect!
Some students even created a Facebook page called “You’re Still White,” which was filled with people discussing times that white people said they understood the problems of people of color because they were women or gay.
I ended up winning the election in a landslide, with 70 percent of the vote, and so did all other candidates of color who were running for dorm positions on campus.
Abbie’s and Parker’s inability to understand their privilege helped spark a political revolution on campus. But potentially more important, it helped kick-start much-needed conversations about race and the intersections of race, gender, and sexual orientation.
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