October 1999: Fear of "the other"
Where does our fear of "the other" come from? And how do we not let our
fears manifest into actions that harm "others"?
The hateful acts of violence, arson and murder that erupted so close
to us this past summer impacted me, as it did others in our community,
in immeasureable ways. They have affected how I interact with my partner
in public and make me think twice before I come out to people I don't
know well. I feel more afraid of passing cars and people wearing big
overcoats. I check my doors a second time at night before crawling into
bed. And I feel increadibly sad for those whose lives have also been
so personally touched by these acts of fear and hatred.
Fear of "the other" doesn't always manifest in such violent ways, but
the impacts are no less harmful. As a human species we have finely tuned
our ability to let "the other" know that we don't want contact with them.
We give someone "the look", or simply ignore them as we pass by. In the
workplace, staff may hold office gatherings that exclude some, or supervisors
may disregard certain employees for promotions or important committee
assignments. Managers may make decisions about "the others" without asking
for their input, assuming they know what is best.
Anthropologists might suggest that behaviors based on fear are instinctual
to protect us from danger. Certainly there are very real threats to our
safety that we need to guard against. Our challenge is to determine that
which is indeed a threat, and that which is perceived as a threat because
of learned prejudice or ignorance. I had an experience last spring where
I saw how automatic my own learned prejudices are. Cleaning up after
a workshop in the Rec Pool Lodge, I noticed several teenage boys skateboarding
on the patio in front of the lodge. They were noisy and boisterous as
they bounced their skateboards over the cement sidewalks and ledges.
I found myself getting irritated with the disruption they were causing
and imagined them to be inconsiderate and irresponsible. Moments later,
someone from my group offered them our leftover pizza, and these "rebellious
teenagers" became grateful and courteous young men. I was humbled to
realize that my first impressions about them, "the others", were not
only inaccurate but initially kept me from interacting with them.
Professor Derrick Bell from the New York University School of Law, who
recently spoke on our campus, said that fear and resentment cause us
to act in ways we might not otherwise. His prompted us to consider whether
we have enough love and respect for ourselves to stop putting down "the
other". For certainly, when we diminish another person, our own sense
of diginity is also dimished. Let us each, then, ask ourselves who are "the
others" , and what keeps us from connecting with them. What is it about "difference" that
we fear and try to dismiss? If we could overcome our automatic instincts
to avoid that which is unfamiliar, how might our office practices, curriculum,
research and recruitment efforts be different? What would this campus
be like if we were not afraid to fully invest ourselves in being a truly
multicultural institution?
As this new year begins, let us be bold in infusing diversity into the
fabric of our community.