December 2020
Ignorance is cute in kids. Growing up, I thought my parents never drank. I had no idea my mother and her four sisters would get a little buzzed at our yearly family 4th of July get-together; I just thought they acted goofy around each other, pinched my cheeks a lot and wore the same margarita-scented perfume. I have a friend who thought until high school that the ice cream truck “only plays music when it’s empty and drives around so everyone can at least hear some music.” When a puppy chases its tail and yelps when it finally catches it, that’s funny. There’s something comforting about the innocence of ignorance… in those who should not know any better, at least.
In adults, it is just sad. The holiday season is coming up. We all know what I’m talking about.
Lately, I see privilege in everything. I am a white, cishet, Christian male, born in rural America to parents who loved and supported me and never let me doubt my abilities, while holding me to a high standard. What we lacked in monetary capital, we more than made up for in social and academic capital. I moved to Texas nearly 20 years ago and have rarely encountered a door closed to me. Things have always just… “worked out.” Yes, I have worked hard, but every time I have applied myself, it has paid off, and that is a privilege unto itself. Being so blessed to be back in school, with the benefits of context I never understood, it is clear how much blind, undeserved, unearnable luck has played a role in my life.
To see all of this is to be critical of systems we see at work. I have found myself questioning the motives of everything. Is this program here because it serves a purpose? Or is it there because it could make money? Does it matter? Why is this program only being attended by this group of students? How can I apply different lenses to this offering to make sure I am not reinforcing a negative stereotype? Is that behavior colonialism, or imperialism? I’m noticing and wrestling with these things, and I am glad for it. I feel like I am seeing things critically, and it’s is like discovering a new color. I have privilege, and I can use it to deconstruct its advantages so that meritocracy–a true allotment of gain based on the content of a character–can benefit justly. That feels good.
But there are times where I know this can be taken too far. There is a line between advocacy and patronizing/paternalism, and I sincerely do not always know where it is. There is a line between diplomacy and imperialism, and I do not always know where it is. It is a hard thing.
I want to be clear that I am not complaining. If the discomfort I am feeling in navigating the waters of advocacy is my worst problem, then my life is stupid good. Having what I have, doing the work, and leaning into the discomfort is the bare-minimum, entry-level human thing to do. Once you understand the concept of ignorance and that there are things you know you don’t know, then ignorance isn’t “cute” anymore. My friend who swears there is no ice cream in the truck because he can hear the music is lying. On the 4th of July, the second my cheek gets pinched, I know I need to make sure that Aunt has a ride home. Dealing with our ignorance is the least we can do. Failure to investigate an area of ignorance when you have reason to believe your understanding may be faulty should disqualify your status as a scholar.
As an ally, you need to listen first and speak out when you can, and when you act, you must do so with love. Scoring points against your uncle won’t solve a thing. He’s been catching L’s nonstop since he peaked in high school, and disappointment is the water in which he swims. Is it really strange that he has grievance, even if it is misdirected? Keep your heart open, be prepared to be checked, and LISTEN when you are (because you totally will be). Look for your opening to engage with your uncle –and do so with care because you know about his disappointment- and take it when it comes. Accountability is love. You know that uncle or that friend and what has happened in their lives. Care is doing the hard thing. If it were easy, people like me wouldn’t be writing desperate blog posts trying to process what I know I need to do.
Ignorance is cute in puppies, but not in adults who could know better. When we are lucky, that ignorance is only just sad; lately, it has been frightening. It is a virus in and of itself, and one that can also ruin families and leave friendships to waste away to nothing. Luckily, my fellow educators, ignorance is one sickness with a cure. Your cousin will never be woke if you aren’t there to wake them up. Let’s get to work. Bring puppy videos.
-- Neil Golemo
Neil is a doctoral student and staff in the Department of Education Administration and Human Resource Development.
In adults, it is just sad. The holiday season is coming up. We all know what I’m talking about.
Lately, I see privilege in everything. I am a white, cishet, Christian male, born in rural America to parents who loved and supported me and never let me doubt my abilities, while holding me to a high standard. What we lacked in monetary capital, we more than made up for in social and academic capital. I moved to Texas nearly 20 years ago and have rarely encountered a door closed to me. Things have always just… “worked out.” Yes, I have worked hard, but every time I have applied myself, it has paid off, and that is a privilege unto itself. Being so blessed to be back in school, with the benefits of context I never understood, it is clear how much blind, undeserved, unearnable luck has played a role in my life.
To see all of this is to be critical of systems we see at work. I have found myself questioning the motives of everything. Is this program here because it serves a purpose? Or is it there because it could make money? Does it matter? Why is this program only being attended by this group of students? How can I apply different lenses to this offering to make sure I am not reinforcing a negative stereotype? Is that behavior colonialism, or imperialism? I’m noticing and wrestling with these things, and I am glad for it. I feel like I am seeing things critically, and it’s is like discovering a new color. I have privilege, and I can use it to deconstruct its advantages so that meritocracy–a true allotment of gain based on the content of a character–can benefit justly. That feels good.
But there are times where I know this can be taken too far. There is a line between advocacy and patronizing/paternalism, and I sincerely do not always know where it is. There is a line between diplomacy and imperialism, and I do not always know where it is. It is a hard thing.
I want to be clear that I am not complaining. If the discomfort I am feeling in navigating the waters of advocacy is my worst problem, then my life is stupid good. Having what I have, doing the work, and leaning into the discomfort is the bare-minimum, entry-level human thing to do. Once you understand the concept of ignorance and that there are things you know you don’t know, then ignorance isn’t “cute” anymore. My friend who swears there is no ice cream in the truck because he can hear the music is lying. On the 4th of July, the second my cheek gets pinched, I know I need to make sure that Aunt has a ride home. Dealing with our ignorance is the least we can do. Failure to investigate an area of ignorance when you have reason to believe your understanding may be faulty should disqualify your status as a scholar.
As an ally, you need to listen first and speak out when you can, and when you act, you must do so with love. Scoring points against your uncle won’t solve a thing. He’s been catching L’s nonstop since he peaked in high school, and disappointment is the water in which he swims. Is it really strange that he has grievance, even if it is misdirected? Keep your heart open, be prepared to be checked, and LISTEN when you are (because you totally will be). Look for your opening to engage with your uncle –and do so with care because you know about his disappointment- and take it when it comes. Accountability is love. You know that uncle or that friend and what has happened in their lives. Care is doing the hard thing. If it were easy, people like me wouldn’t be writing desperate blog posts trying to process what I know I need to do.
Ignorance is cute in puppies, but not in adults who could know better. When we are lucky, that ignorance is only just sad; lately, it has been frightening. It is a virus in and of itself, and one that can also ruin families and leave friendships to waste away to nothing. Luckily, my fellow educators, ignorance is one sickness with a cure. Your cousin will never be woke if you aren’t there to wake them up. Let’s get to work. Bring puppy videos.
-- Neil Golemo
Neil is a doctoral student and staff in the Department of Education Administration and Human Resource Development.