I don’t usually shout at my radio.
But sitting in my car last week listening coverage of the murders of Alton Sterling and Philando Castile on KUOW, I found myself literally screaming at the top of my lungs, “Are you fucking shitting me?!?”
A man was shot dead in front of his girlfriend and his four year old child and what was the story? How calm and composed his girlfriend was while dealing with yet another case of irrational white fear ending a black life — that she had the presence of mind to document their compliance with the police.
The journalist, St. Paul Pioneer Press Reporter Frederick Melo, being interviewed on the syndicated program Here and Now, did not clarify why Castile was stopped. There was no attempt to contextualize this as a part of the ongoing genocide against black people.
White bias is the standard for objectivity.
What I heard was a reporter using neutrality as a weapon to cast aspersions on a dead man, and to leave space for empathy for a murderer who broke his promise to protect and serve.
That’s not journalism, that’s #journalismsowhite.
Journalist Jose Antonio Vargas coined the hashtag in a viral post that called out several major news outlets, including the Washington Post, The Wall Street Journal, The New York Times, POLITICO, and CNN for the perpetual lack of diversity in their choices of editors and columnists. Vargas went on to say that the American newsroom is even less diverse than it was in 1999.
According to a recent survey conducted by AAJA Seattle, the majority of journalists in Seattle’s major news outlets are white as well. No surprises there. The survey is just a quantitative way to attempt to validate the truth of the experiences of people of color, because white people have difficulty hearing the truth when it’s unflattering. We must back up the truth with facts, data, measurable information. And even then there are some who would say, “well Seattle’s a pretty white city, maybe those numbers are just proportionate.”
The numbers tell a piece of the story, but the actual impact of #journalismsowhite is so much bigger. In preparing to write this piece I conducted several interviews with people in my community who had demoralizing experiences with white media, from the black man who was completely misquoted because a white journalist could not tell the difference between the two black men he interviewed, to the white woman who was subjected to death threats following an interview with a local shock jock who tried to brand her as a “reverse” racist for supporting yoga classes for people of color.
But then I turned on the radio to one of my favorite so-called liberal media outlets and listened to coverage of the murders of Alton Sterling and Philando Castile that made me want to punch someone in the face — and I realized I am done proving racism. I feel absolutely no need to further document, quantify, or justify what I know to be true.
White bias is the standard for objectivity. The only reason we even pretend that objectivity is possible is because white culture tells us we should. I have no interest in objectivity — in fact I distrust anyone who thinks that they are somehow able to be a neutral outside observer. What are you outside of exactly? Certainly not the constructs of race, power, or privilege.
The most I will concede is that journalists can create forums for multiple viewpoints to be explored in a way that is equitable — but that seems not be a big priority in mainstream media at the moment.
So what happens when white bias is the norm? Unsurprisingly the voices of people of color are marginalized.
It’s not just that people of color want more representation in media. We crave realistic representation that affirms our humanity.
Last fall I visited a journalism class at the UW as a guest presenter with activist and writer James Akbar Williams and Marcus Harrison Green, founder of The South Seattle Emerald. Green recounted the story of meeting a young man and asking him about his community, and hearing him say that “nothing good ever happens in Rainier Beach.”
As a resident of Rainier Beach I know that to be categorically untrue — yet if you look at what our white media has to say, you might assume this a place where only crime, gun violence, and weed smoking happen — because that is the story they choose to tell over and over again. The danger is in the repetition.
From childhood we are inundated with information that builds us into who we will become as people. What we learn in school, from our family and friends, and through our media — whether experienced through fictional characters on TV or through the actual news — has an impact on our self-perception. This is the danger of #oscarssowhite and #journalismsowhite.
It’s not just that people of color want more representation in media. We crave realistic representation that affirms our humanity.
Instead white media answers us with tokenism, saying, “okay you can have your one black show or your one Latina character or your one Asian news anchor who is going to integrate our news office and only cover POC issues, though of course with a white gaze.”
This is a grossly insufficient attempt at a solution — one that exposes a misapprehension of the problem.
I never wanted to be a journalist. Of all the styles of writing, it was my least favorite because it seemed to leave little room for creativity. I wrote my first article expecting it to be rejected, not because it was poorly written, but because I put so much of myself into my writing. I didn’t think it could be classified as news because that’s what my white teachers taught me. My editor did not agree, and we began working together on a regular basis.
When I called my dad to tell him about it, he said something flippant like don’t be that asshole who is sticking the microphone in the face of someone who’s family just got killed and asking them how they feel about it.
Over the past three years I’ve met with this attitude over and over. I accidently found myself with a platform and an ability to tell our stories, but what I have encountered are people in my community who have been so traumatized by #journalismsowhite that they choose to silence themselves.
They are afraid of the white gaze because, despite so called journalistic integrity, the combination of unchecked bias and rushed deadline writing has produced some damaging, often blatantly wrong, and certainly un-nuanced reporting.
It is only after carefully cultivating relationships that people have begun to trust me enough to share their truth. And when they read what I write, whether or not they agree with it, they at least feel like their humanity has been affirmed. Like all human beings, we want to be seen and heard and understood, and #journalismsowhite has been used to silence, villainize, and “other” people of color.
People in my community have been so traumatized by #journalismsowhite that they choose to silence themselves.
What people don’t seem to realize is that this is not a black problem or a POC problem; white bias is problematic for all of us, regardless of how we identify. Racism is a form of insanity that strips away our ability to see the humanity in other people because they look differently than you do.
When you stop seeing humanity, you yourself become less human. And that is what is happening and what #journalismsowhite is perpetuating.
That is what is happening when the first question a journalist asks when a black man is indisputably murdered by the police is not “what are the facts?” but “what did that black man do to deserve it?” Commentary on how calm a black woman can be while video taping a police officer that’s just shot and killed her boyfriend in front of their four-year-old is not journalism. It’s a violation of her humanity, and mine and all Americans’, white or black or any color on the spectrum.
Like Vargas tweeted, “We are the stories we tell and we suffer when we can’t see each other.”
Now is the reckoning. We must see one another and be seen in a way that rebuilds the humanity that has been eroded by white bias seeping under our skin. It starts by acknowledging that this is a problem and that it is our responsibility as media to address it and as members of the human community to hold our media accountable to a higher standard.
The way I have been trying to address this through my own writing has been becoming the counter narrative, looking at the story being told and attempting to provide information to supplement. But that is a stopgap measure. The truth is the stories of people of color, our thoughts, feelings, and perspectives are not counter narratives. We are a part of this country and we deserve to be respected.
Reagan, thank you for this. Well said! My favorite quote: “Racism is a form of insanity that strips away our ability to see the humanity in other people because they look differently than you do.” Brilliant!
Set your mind on the things that are above,not on the things where moth and rust corrupt.
God is no respecter of persons.
IT is the Spirit that gives life,the flesh profits nothing.
Eph.6, our wrestling is not against flesh and blood,but against the world rulers,authorities in the air…..
So what is your problem here, that the reporter stuck to the FACTS instead of a narrative? WTF do you think reporting is about?? This article is a steaming pile of shit.
Hi Hugh, Thanks for taking the time to engage with my work. Allow me to clarify, I have no problem with facts. I do have a huge problem with white bias. And the fact that you can’t tell the difference between the two is the real problem I am having with white media right now.
I appreciate the strong sentiments of your piece, but I have strong sentiments of my own on a serious topic. A) I’m not white. B) I was not asked why Philando was stopped, if memory serves. The conversation didn’t turn to that, as I recall, and if it did, the show (which is recorded and edited) chose not to include that information, which we probably didn’t know at the time anyway, within 12 hours of Mr. Castile’s death, at least not in any verifiable way. C) Ms. Reynolds’ composure — and her ability to document the death of her boyfriend — impressed many people across the nation, and deserved some mention. It became the subject of national discussion in the black community and beyond. Document, document, document is the best advice I could give anyone about anything, and she did. D) You focused on one sentence you disliked in a wide-ranging interview that also touched on advocates calling for police reform, gun rights, previous encounters between black men and police, and other issues. I felt the interview provided some of the very context you say was lacking, including audio from the incident. It sounds as if you turned on your radio and jumped into the conversation halfway, and were offended that you missed the first half. I don’t mean to take away from the general topic or commentary — you’re absolutely right that the media, on the whole, is rather Caucasian and has not lived up to the hiring goals it set for itself 20 years when I was starting out — but I felt some of these comments directed at me were a bit unfair.
Hi Frederick, I have no idea why this comment didn’t ping me when it posted, so I apologize for the very late response. I try to respond to everyone who genuinely wants to engage with me about my work. First, thank you for taking the time to read my piece. I appreciate it. To address you points: I never said you were white. I used your comments about Diamond Reynolds to expose a way in which white bias seeps into the fabric of how media frames articles and our questions and our reporting. Yes, there were other, better examples to choose from, but I wanted to be accurate. After listening to report after report, in that moment, in my car, listening to your interview was the moment something just snapped for me. As you mentioned Diamond Reynolds’ composure was much remarked upon in the media and did become a conversation, but let’s unpack this conversation. Diamond Reynolds had just suffered a tremendous loss and she had the presence of mind to document everything. Why? Because she, like many of us who grow up as black people in this country have had to contend with the fact that this exact tragedy can happen to us at any moment, that even if we are “good”, even if we work twice as hard to get half as far, even if we buy into all the respectability politics, someone can simply look at us and see our skin and that is the end of our life. So yes. She was prepared. She had thought about it. She knew exactly what to do. The conversation to be had here is about the insanity of growing up in a country where the dominant population has never had to think about these eventualities and what the psychological impacts are to mentally needing to prepare for your own death or the death of a family member…not from illness or accident. Many of us our not soldiers. We have not consented to be sent off to war, and yet we are faced with our own mortality in our everyday life. It could happen at the grocery store, in a parking lot, driving home from work. Since this article was written how many more of us have died? The first name that comes to mind is Botham Jean, who was literally just at home in his own apartment minding his own damn business. Please hear me when I say we are in the middle of a genocide. It has not stopped. It is not over. Simply put, we don’t have time to get distracted by Diamond Reynold’s composure. Focusing on that actually dehumanizes her and sends a message that reinforces the stereotype that black women are super humanly strong. Well we are humanly strong because we have no alternative, because this is who we must be in order to get through the day and even then it won’t be enough. The conversation shouldn’t be about how beautifully and competently we can document our own tragedies, but rather about why we have had to? Why we continue to have to do these things to survive. So yes, I am asking ALL JOURNALIST, not just you, anyone with a platform to take some time to really interrogate your biases. Are you asking the right questions? Are you bringing the conversation to the place it needs to be to actually deal with the reality of what’s happening? I did not write this piece to be fair or unfair to you. I understand your critique. I hope you understand mine.
Hi Frederick, I have no idea why this comment didn’t ping me when it posted, so I apologize for the very late response. I try to respond to everyone who genuinely wants to engage with me about my work. First, thank you for taking the time to read my piece. I appreciate it. To address you points: I never said you were white. I used your comments about Diamond Reynolds to expose a way in which white bias seeps into the fabric of how media frames articles and our questions and our reporting. Yes, there were other, better examples to choose from, but I wanted to be accurate. After listening to report after report, in that moment, in my car, listening to your interview was the moment something just snapped for me. As you mentioned Diamond Reynolds’ composure was much remarked upon in the media and did become a conversation, but let’s unpack this conversation. Diamond Reynolds had just suffered a tremendous loss and she had the presence of mind to document everything. Why? Because she, like many of us who grow up as black people in this country have had to contend with the fact that this exact tragedy can happen to us at any moment, that even if we are “good”, even if we work twice as hard to get half as far, even if we buy into all the respectability politics, someone can simply look at us and see our skin and that is the end of our life. So yes. She was prepared. She had thought about it. She knew exactly what to do. The conversation to be had here is about the insanity of growing up in a country where the dominant population has never had to think about these eventualities and what the psychological impacts are to mentally needing to prepare for your own death or the death of a family member…not from illness or accident. Many of us our not soldiers. We have not consented to be sent off to war, and yet we are faced with our own mortality in our everyday life. It could happen at the grocery store, in a parking lot, driving home from work. Since this article was written how many more of us have died? The first name that comes to mind is Botham Jean, who was literally just at home in his own apartment minding his own damn business. Please hear me when I say we are in the middle of a genocide. It has not stopped. It is not over. Simply put, we don’t have time to get distracted by Diamond Reynold’s composure. Focusing on that actually dehumanizes her and sends a message that reinforces the stereotype that black women are super humanly strong. Well we are humanly strong because we have no alternative, because this is who we must be in order to get through the day and even then it won’t be enough. The conversation shouldn’t be about how beautifully and competently we can document our own tragedies, but rather about why we have had to? Why we continue to have to do these things to survive. So yes, I am asking ALL JOURNALIST, not just you, anyone with a platform to take some time to really interrogate your biases. Are you asking the right questions? Are you bringing the conversation to the place it needs to be to actually deal with the reality of what’s happening? I did not write this piece to be fair or unfair to you. I understand your critique. I hope you understand mine.