#380 Musings Beyond the Bunker (Friday June 17)
Good morning,
The other day I was considering how important it is that Black Americans are rallying around the accomplishments of their forebears in establishing a personal narrative of Black America and the role Black people played in our shared history. Asian and Latino Americans have experienced a similar renaissance of pride in their cultures and recognition of their experience in this country. This celebration need not be exclusive to the particular group. A book written about the Black experience in America is no less an American story than is Huck Finn or Little Women. The poetry of Maya Angelou soars to the same heights as Walt Whitman or Robert Frost.
Arguably the best way for us to share experiences that might resonate with one group but perhaps not as clearly with others is to actually share those experiences together. The plays Fiddler on the Roof and Zoot Suit and the many plays in the August Wilson oeuvre are stories of one culture that speak to all cultures. They all will become part of the American canon and they all offer a view not only into the lives of others—but explorations of ourselves as well.
ETHNIC PRIDE
This got me thinking about ethnic identity and pride. On the one hand, we should celebrate those who celebrate their forebears’ struggles and contributions. On the other hand, we would hope all cultures find a way to mix together, if not in a “melting pot,” then at least a tossed salad!
How much is ethnic identity, and the desire to associate with “one’s people” a good thing to be encouraged? And at what point might it alienate us from our fellow citizens, with whom we should strive to make more and stronger connections?
In the process of these Musings, I have found that many friends are contemplating the same sorts of questions. One such friend is regular correspondent, Ben Van deBunt, who notes:
“I am Dutch and my whole life we moved a lot. Whenever we arrived in a new area, my parents’ new friends were folks from the local Dutch community.
We have historically black schools, we have Jewish country clubs and women’s groups, many springing up due to those groups having being excluded in some way historically. Dr Robert Cialdini, the author of Influence, states one of the core factors that influence human behavior is “unity” – we viscerally react and appreciate in others in what we see in ourselves.
So this instinct in us – which creates community and are often the ties that bind – can also be a form of discrimination. Compare our collective response to the human toll resulting from the Syrian devastation versus the UkraInian one.”
Ben has hit on two separate, but related, issues. The first is the way in which we elect to associate with people who are like us—whether country of origin, religion, or other identifying characteristic. The second is the way in which we empathize with the plight of others and react to their plight.
One easily can understand how a minority community, particularly one that has emigrated to America, will seek out communities of people with common heritage. It is human nature to associate with those with whom we resonate for any number of reasons. One feels comfort and can derive strength and security from being surrounded by “fellow travelers.”
I have written before that the large number of saloons present in many towns through the expanding West were not necessarily an indicator of broad public drunkenness (although that no doubt was a product of the harshness and loneliness of the Western expansion). One of the primary reasons for multiple saloons is that many were based upon attracting a particular ethnicity: Italians, Germans, Scots, Southern Europeans—they all had their local saloons that provided not only camaraderie amidst the loneliness, but a means of communication, as people posted notices and requests for information that would travel, like a proto-internet, to those in their social grouping.
In its current manifestation, the need to be surrounded by others like us seems to extend to the political arena and it is in that context that the exclusion of others portends more ominous results. When people feel kinship not for shared heritage or ideals but from the continual consumption of information that confirms their biases, from people familiar and whose positions are known, the broader community is replaced with an insular one. Whereas immigrant communities maintained their identities in the 19th and 20th centuries, they also were engaged with the broader community and struggled to find acceptance within that greater community. With the insular political communities maintained by cable news and social media, there seems little incentive to meet—much less talk to—anyone else.
Ben’s second point—how we empathize with others—highlights a different problem, namely, that people tend to identify with, and empathize with, those who seem more like themselves. It is easier to empathize with white Ukrainians than with Arabic Syrians. In both circumstances, Russians were running roughshod over the local population. Our society has a lot of work to do on empathy—particularly with those we might characterize as “the other.”
Ben concludes with this question: “Where does unfair bias begin and where does admirable and understandable connection end?”
Food for thought…
Have a good day,
Glenn
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