You didn’t answer my question- why not go change your preferance?
Okay, I’m a little lost here. Are you saying that people actually identify one way or the other on an application? I thought that was illegal. But if a person DID say they were part black, and didn’t look it (or just *sorta * looked it), how would you prove they were lying? Would you even bring it up? Or just pass them over? And if they accused the institution of discriminating or whatever, how would they respond? “Sorry, but the applicant didn’t look black enough for us.” I find this very interesting. This is an honest question. I truly have no idea how these things are done in the academic community. I always thought it was illegal to discuss race or to ask. I thought this was always done strictly by personal observation.
Me? I’ve got a job.
It is in CA, but we passed a ballot initiative making it illegal a few years ago. Illegal for the government to do it, that is. But I think CA is unusual in that respect. How do you think AA programs work if you can’t know the race of the applicant?
I’m under the impression that diversity stats are usually collected blind. You fill in an application form that has no reference to race, then fill in a completely separate voluntary EEOC form with your race, age, gender and such. The guy who evaluates the application forms never sees the EEOC cards.
But it’ll help your Dean, your Dept and your School, right? And, it doesn’t matter, since there are no clear cut rules, right? :dubious:
This is a little tricky. I myself have refused to participate in hires where my colleagues were persisting in discussing candidates’ race. I told them “I won’t be a part of any hiring committee that discusses race in any form. We advertised that we’re an AA-EOE employer, some candidates have hinted that they belong to some minority or other, and we’re supposed to hire the best candidate according to qualifications. If you want to THINK ‘Gee, this candidate is maybe a tad underqualified but since he says he black, looks black, whatever, that pushes his candidacy a step ahead in my my mind,’ and you want to support him for that reason, go ahead, no one can tell you what to think. But I’m telling you right now, if anyone says another word about a candidate’s race, and how that affects your ranking of his candidacy, I’m resigning this committee as of right that moment.” The discussions, as I recall, was whether various candidates we’d interviewed “sounded” black or whether the names they signed on their cover letters looked like “Black” names. Actually, thinking back, I remember this whole idea started up with me wondering (to myself) if a good way for someone to promote his candidacy might be to change his name legally to one that would seem to belong to a person of color.
As to how they might have hinted that they belong to a particular group, that’s easy. They might just say so in their cover letter, or they could show an unusual interest in minority literature, or they could list their undergraduate major or minor as say “African-American Studies,” or they could list their service on, say, the “Faculty for Diversity” or “Faculty advisor to student Muslim newspaper.” Those last two, btw, I could put on my resume, if I so chose because I 've served those groups, despite being lily-white, and I would probably bolster the thinking that I was a minority candidate if chose to by listing them on my c.v. (At this point, I just think I’ve included them under service “advising various groups and organizations”–my c.v. was 8 pages and counting, last I looked, and I was looking for ways to pare it down.)
Yeah, but is this only in academic institutions or is it all over? I’ve never been asked my race on an application. And I don’t know anyone who has.
Speaking as a black person, here are possible reasons why black people wouldn’t care about this issue:
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At times there are tangible benefits to calling yourself black, but these occasions are so far and few between–not to mention not all that significant to begin with–that the potential of some disingenuous white person pulling a Soul Man just doesn’t merit anything more than a “meh” worth of indignation. Kinda like how I feel when someone sneaks a little extra bit from the soda fountain. Doesn’t make me mad, especially when the soda is so cheap anyway.
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The idea of a white person calling themself black is amusing, to a lot of black people. Even if that identification was completely for self-serving purposes, it still is funny. Things like this have a way of backfiring, and I could imagine how embarrassing it would be to be outed as a phony by someone who knows that you are lying.
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To care about this suggests that there would be a way to prevent it. Unless you have a litmus test for race than none of us know about, how would you go about preventing this fraud? You still haven’t given us any ideas to work with.
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Black people have bigger things to stress about than “what if” scenarios that may or may not be happening. Terrorists may be plotting right now to fill restaurant salt shakers with arsenic, but until we see that is happenening why should just the potential freak us out? At least arsenic can kill. A white guy calling himself black isn’t going to hurt anyone except maybe himself.
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And perhaps more importantly, no one is entitled to a specific position, whether that be on the basis of merit or intangibles like race. So a potential applicant who “loses” out on a job because of an unscrupulous white person is simply SOL. The job wasn’t theirs to begin with, so why be mad because someone else got it? If all this applicant had to bank on was their race, then that’s their fault.
The more one thinks about this, the more ridiculous it is. I mean, it’s one thing if you try and pull this off as a kid getting into college (still crazy, if only slightly less so), but at your job? What happens when a co-worker meets one of your parents? Are you kids now Black, too? You’d have to completely seperate your work and home life. You’d be like a gay person who hasn’t come out yet-- not very appealing if you ask me. And if you’re willing to go that far to get this one particular job, you’ve probably got some serious psychological problem to begin with. Yeah, it could happen, but so could a lot of things.
I can’t imagine it even being discussed directly with the person.
“I’m black.”
“No you aren’t.”
“Yes I am.”
“Prove it.”
“I just said I am.”
“No you aren’t.”
“Yes I am.”
I think you badly underestimate the interest of someone who’s just spent ten years earning a Ph. D. not to accept the same exact job he could have gotten ten years earlier without the investment of time and effort when at the cost of a victimless deliberate mis-statement (that according to you with the face the people being harmed don’t mind being committed) he could have a good job in his field.
I don’t have any parents, and my colleagues have no reason to socialize with me, and I haven’t yet met 90 % of my colleagues’ family members after 16 years in the department (and I’m probably the single most social member of that department.) So far, I’ve invited five members of my department out to my house, and it would have been completely normal never to have invited any of them.
Well? It seems like it is time for “put up or shut up”.
Not only on this, but on your legal standard of what defines “african american” or “black”. *This * I gotta see.
How are black people being harmed by this? And secondly, if there is such a profound shortage of black PhDs in your field, then surely this means that the number of “victims” associated with this potential fraud is equally infintessimal. Right? And thirdly, I laugh to think of you being bothered on behalf of black people about this. If the black community hasn’t made a fuss about this, why should you?
You’re kidding me, right? What do I have to gain by this now, when I already have a job? You think I want to endanger my tenure by claiming something that helps not a tiny bit right now, and helps my department, my dean, and my university? That’s a good one.
At the point I described earlier, when I was wondering if I would have to regard my investment of a decade’s work as pointless, I don’t know. Maybe.
And I don’t have a position on defining “black” or “African-American.” I’m soliciting others’ definitions to see if anyone’s hold up. So far, I’ve mostly gotten, “We doan need no steenkin’ definitions.”
As to you with the face’s point, I suppose you’re free to consider me as blithely unconcerned with black people. From my perspective, that of someone who’s been working pretty hard at hiring a qualified black faculty member to teach in my department for a while, even to the point of advising the dean to increase his/her normal salary offer if he’s serious about attracting minority candidates, I feel okay about the sincerity of my attitude towards blacks.
And please don’t call me “Shirley.” It’s actually kind of sad how few blacks hold a Ph. D. in English, though I am taken by Hippy Hollow’s description of how difficult, and how contrary to my experience, blacks with Ph.Ds are finding the job market.
I’m not saying you don’t care about black people. I just find it surprising that you would be concerned about this issue on their behalf, when AFAIK few if any black people care about it.
Would your stance on this whole thing change if it turns out that black people didn’t care about this?
I have a Ph.D in the life sciences…a field that probably has fewer minorities than English (there is only one black professor in my department…there were none in my department in graduate school). And I will tell you, I did not get my current position very easily. I was rejected from a ton of places and only got a couple of interviews. No one was beating down my door with job offers. And quite frankly, with each interview I was scared shitless that both my race and gender would be a detriment, not a benefit.
A resume or CV rarely advertises your race (although membership in certain societies or fellowship programs can definitely “fill in the blank”). In academic positions, your CV–not an application–precedes any interview process. So in the initial winnowing process, black candidates are (theoretically) playing on the same field with white candidates. Only after applications are filled out or initial interviews are conducted do candidates suddenly become “black candidates”. And as you know, if you’re able to get to this step, you can’t be too sloppy as a candidate. Being a minority may help you get to the second interview, but it isn’t going to help you jump through the highest hurdle: getting a foot in the door.
Not really. I’d just be surprised that black people understood that decent jobs were available to them, which white people are eager to acquire, and which white people get only after it’s been shown that no black folks are interested in training to get them.
Maybe it’s because the training takes longer, and the jobs pay less well, than becoming a lawyer or physician, but I wonder why becoming a professor doesn’t have more appeal for black undergraduates. It’s certainly an easier profession than law or medicine. I’ve tried counseling our occasional African-American English major that with a little application he or she might easily join the profession and none of them, in my experience, have responded with much enthusiasm. One of my black friends from grad school, my only real black friend from grad school, in fact, never bothered completing his Ph. D. because he was getting better job offers with an M.A. than any of us were getting with Ph.D.s (and he was no one’s prize student in grad school, either). He’s moved from university to university over the years, getting better and better job offers, but even he doesn’t seem to feel that he’s doing particularly well–he bitches about his lousy job, which is better paying, with fewer teaching responsibilities than mine, same as anyone else I know.
I’ll wager a guess…
People who are first-generation college students will aim for those occupations that give the most bang ($) for the buck (effort). If your parents are pushing hard for you to go to school, and scrimping and saving so they can support you financially, they aren’t going to be too impressed if you say you’re going to major in an esoteric field or one that is not associated with financial success. Also, doctors and lawyers are high-profile and associated with service to the community. Everyone knows what these people do. But a research scientist? What do they do? And most importantly, how do they help people?
I attended an engineering school and although blacks were a minority, there was definitely not a paucity of them, both as students and as professors. So it’s not that blacks are not up to the challenge. It’s just that certain fields are more attractive than others.
Yeah, and this is the argument that anyone would employ for doing things the right way and ethically. You had a tough time finding employment as an academic… I think for most aspirant Ph.D.s, it’s the same. But you did find a position, and I assume you’re happy there. Happy enough to not risk your current employment status and your reputation.
But this is exactly what the problem is. It’s difficult to attract people of color to the academy. First, there’s the inherent bias in academe that one must look and sound a certain way, must have a certain research agenda, etc. to be taken seriously - all quite beyond one’s capabilities as a writer, researcher, teacher. I’ll readily admit to this bias - I’ve never heard a professor who sounds like, say, Deon Sanders, and it would strike me as odd, even though Deon-sound-alike may be a terrific researcher. Next, you have to convince a person of color - a large majority of whom are among the first in their families to attend college and have concerns about taking out loans over the years (sometimes up to ten!) for a degree. Most of the top-notch people of color I knew in undergrad got MBAs or went to law school - it’s a) lucrative; b) relatively brief; and c) there’s a logical, easily understood process about the profession once one graduates with a degree. (The really, really smart ones went to medical school. I only can think of two people I know from undergrad, period, who are now professors.)
I’m also struck by how many of my colleagues in grad school have parents who are academics. Phillip Jackson and Eric Margolis, for example, talk about the “hidden curriculum” that acts as a gatekeeping process to academia. In the circle of friends of my family, I knew military people, teachers, and civil servants… maybe a teacher or two. I, and my parents, never knew a professor until I went to college. And that was once I got over my awe in seeing “Dr.” before someone’s name and realized that there were some certifiable dumbasses with “Dr.” in front of their names. Some of my classmates talk about visiting the campus with Mom or Dad as a youngster, or having Professor X visit for dinner. Not everyone, but enough that I see a considerable amount of social reproduction going on even before people get in front of an advisor.
Then, supposing you do encounter a person of color in grad school. Are they getting adequate support and mentorship from a tenured, well-respected faculty member who will go to bat for the candidate, shout down the subtle racism and prejudice overtly and covertly expressed by the dinosaurs in the department? Is their research valued and respected - and appropriately challenged and pushed? A lot of people of color have the experience of being invisible as grad students. Nobody understands, or wants to understand their research focus. So they’re left to their own devices. No-one really knows if the work is rigorous because they’re not supervising work that links to their own interests. So the candidate finishes, perhaps not appropriately ready for the academic world because they didn’t get the support and challenge that others who are perhaps following a path that others have created. After going through this, you might feel embattled, bitter, pissed off, and then you hear that a government agency is hiring folks - good salary, less drama… that’s where you go. Or you look at the corporate options, realize that they are serious about hiring and supporting people of color (to a degree), look at the salary range, and leave academia.
And then, if you’re hired, it starts all over again, only now you’re the professor. Students challenge your grading procedures, even if they’re clearly noted in the syllabus. Your dean gets complaints about your lecturing, your grading policies, your attendance policies… then you are asked to sit on diversity committees, faculty search committees, present your work at admissions functions. You’re one of only a few faculty members of color, so you’re encouraged to teach a course on diversity, or race, even if your research has a tangental connection to diversity or none at all. Every student of color in the department is seeking you out as an advisor. All the student groups want you to come and give a speech to show them how you got to where you are. And like everyone else, you’ve got to get your publishing and research agenda into gear. There’s even a term for this added pressure - “cultural taxation” (A. M. Padilla, 1994).
And nobody wants to be the only or first one. So when candidates look at the all-White department, they recollect the challenges they had as a grad student and say, “No thanks.” Now, if you had a number of scholars of color, all along the tenure process, applicants would know that this department hires and promotes people of color. If you don’t, they’re making that assumption based on what they see.
p r r, I guess I don’t see my experience as particularly difficult, because I actually feel I’m one of the lucky ones at my institutions. My peers look to me as an example of how to do a doctorate, and their are folks who had some real challenging funding and advising challenges - not so for me. As monstro notes, by the time you get to the point that your race or ethnicity actually matters, you’ve already cleared so many hurdles, I’d imagine you’d be one of the top candidates. And the winner out of the finalist pool is so often chosen for random reasons beyond “good researcher/writer/teacher/colleague.”