by Howard J. Ross, founder & chief learning officer
The recent controversy about the hate-filled word painted on the rock at Republican presidential candidate Rick Perry’s hunting property reminds us of how much our past dictates the way we see the present. There are few words in the English language that have the ability to remind us of how much our memories of things that have happened can live in our language as “the n-word.” It is so viscerally reminiscent of the history of African American oppression in this country that it is hardly ever spoken or whispered.
How quickly Governor Perry actually handled his personal connection to the offensive word on the rock is a reasonable question. It indicates how seriously he took the offense of it, as is how he is handling the current situation around it. But the incident is an aide-mémoire that our language is filled with reminders of the past. Even benign terms and phrases convey hidden or lost meanings. For example, we call storage locations in our cars the “glove compartment” and the “trunk.” They were created when cars had no heat and drivers always had to have a place to store their gloves, and because early automobiles actually had trunks attached to the back for storage. But, far more importantly, we know that our language is loaded with references that have a history to them, some which reinforce past inequities.
The “n-word” is an obvious example, and perhaps the vilest. But it is by no means the only one. What is a “rule of thumb,” for example? It apparently derives from old English commonwealth law, which stated that a man could beat his wife as long as the stick was no thicker than his thumb. Why are our leaders usually called “chairmen”, “congressmen”, etc.? Pretty obvious isn’t it? There are all those references to the “black” sheep of the family. Or the classic western villain wearing a “black” hat. What about “Indian giving”? (Which is particularly ironic given that the Native American population of this country had deals and treaties rescinded from them far more often than the opposite!). Ever hear of “jewing down” the price of something? (An obvious reference to the stereotype of stinginess that is associated with Jews. In fact, some people are so obtuse of the source of that it has been said in front of me a number of times in my life). Getting “gypped” on a deal derives from a negative stereotype about the Roma or Gypsy people). Of course there are ubiquitous references to people (including children) as “illegal aliens”. Finally, there is the name of the Washington DC football team. If we weren't so used to the name "redskins" and even attached to it, we would easily see the absurdity and offensiveness of using a race of people as a mascot." And I resist going on and on only because the point is made.
That we are our personal history is undeniable and no secret to any of us. Malcolm X said, “People are always speculating: why am I as I am? To understand...any person, his or her whole life, from birth, must be reviewed. All our experiences fuse into our personalities. Everything that ever happened to us is an ingredient.” But we are also our collective histories. We live in a world that has been shaped and influenced by our collective past. And our language is the main carrier of that history.
The human mind perceives the world mostly through language. It provides one of the most predominant filters through which our background interpretations of events are formed. A simple word can give an entire worldview. Consider, for example, did we “invade” Iraq, or did we “liberate” Iraq. By the choice of those words aren’t we likely to at least imply a person’s political point of view about the conflict? Our very consciousness is structured by the words we use, the names we give things, and the questions we ask.
Words can also marginalize. The collective pain of centuries of sexism lives in the titles we give our corporate leaders. The collective stain of slavery lives in the fact that African American unemployment is almost twice the national average, and that the color black usually implies "less than" or more evil. The collective shame of homophobia lives in the many ways our language tells us that heterosexuality is “normal.”
These words infiltrate our “normal” discourse, and so do the values that the words connote. And the most challenging aspect of it is that it mostly doesn’t live in our conscious awareness. It is buried deep. These words help form the foundation of some of our most basic beliefs without our even realizing it.
I am not a big fan of political correctness. Though it may be well intended, my experience has been that it suffocates our ability to have real conversations. It drives people underground rather than allowing us to know whom we are dealing with. But I am not talking about political correctness. I am talking about listening and learning. I am talking about being conscious of the language that we use and the memories that it carries.
The language that people choose can help us know when leaders are “uniters” or “dividers.” And so, as our news cycle tends to go, we will be hearing incessantly for a few days the various opinions as to whether or not the rock in Governor Perry’s “garden” was dealt with appropriately or fast enough. And we have every right to determine what Governor Perry’s response tells us about his capacity for empathy and compassion as a leader.
But let us not forget the deeper message: our language carries our heritage. And it is not easily “painted over.”
Howard Ross is the recent author of ReInventing Diversity: Transforming Organizational Community to Strengthen People, Purpose & Performance, published by Rowman Littlefield in association with the Society for Human Resource Management.
