Showing posts with label racism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label racism. Show all posts

Wednesday, 5 January 2022

Behind the scenes: Diversifying reading lists

Decolonising universities has become something of a buzzword, guaranteed to turn Telegraph readers into frothing puddles of outrage. Every other week they publish an article about subjects getting ‘cancelled’ (also known as modules being updated) or lecturers being ordered to use Twitter instead of historical archives (also known as using an expanded range of sources). Well, buckle up, because that’s what my newest publication is about. Strictly speaking, it’s not decolonisation per se. That’s a deeper, longer, more transformative process that in my opinion might not even be possible without deconstructing universities as we know them. But the article is about diversifying the content of what we teach, and teaching it in a different, more inclusive, more culturally aware way, with the goal of creating a learning environment that is less hostile to students of colour.

This new paper, published today in the London Review of Education (https://doi.org/10.14324/LRE.20.1.01) is co-authored with 12 other people! The long list of authors is because it was really a collaborative effort and we wanted to recognise that, although the writing itself was done by the first four authors listed. The others contributed to the project design and the data collection and analysis, as well as bringing their insight and knowledge. Some of these people are colleagues in different schools at the University of Kent or from the university library, while others are undergraduate student researchers (some of whom have since graduated).

We report on an ongoing project at the university which reviews reading lists for modules in terms of their ethnic and gender diversity, and then supports teaching staff to increase that diversity if they want to do so. It’s necessarily optional, for several reasons: for example, we need to avoid alienating people who have a lot of freedom in their roles and often resent obligatory policies that they don’t see the purpose of (which is what has happened in the past when originally good ideas were imposed top-down without the rationale filtering through). It’s also got to be on top of an already overburdened workload, a problem we note in the article. Perhaps most importantly, the work is only meaningful if it’s done with care and genuine desire for change; simply bunging a few Black authors on the list is at best missing the point and at worst actively harmful. But for those who want to do the work, and are able to do so within their contractual constraints, the library staff and the Student Success Project team have worked up a whole lot of resources to help with this, so the idea is that small interventions like the one we report on can lead to longer-term change across the institution.

Working with the student researchers was the most rewarding experience. From the recruitment process onwards it was eye-opening to see how much they knew about the topic already, how committed they were, and how important it was to them. We specifically recruited (paid) researchers who themselves identified as from the category known in UK HE as ‘BAME’ (Black, Asian, or minority ethnic) as our methodology meant that it was important that they bring their own experiences and stories to bear on the work. One of the researchers in particular found an especial enjoyment of—and flair for—giving talks and presentations on the work, during which he was able to reflect on the importance of the project to him personally in a way that really helped the largely white audience to understand the purpose. He got rave reviews both in the department and at the conferences where we presented the work.

For me, a really interesting aspect was the interviews with staff. I interviewed 70-something members of the school, at all levels from graduate teaching assistants to the Head of School, and from academic and professional services teams. I approached these interviews in a very loose, informal way and kept them fairly short so as not to burden people and turn them against the project. Still, some conversations ended up being very long as people often had a lot to say! The most valuable of these, for me, were the ones that turned out to be a real conversation between me and the interviewee, both of us learning and discussing the topic, and ending up with action points or ways of proceeding with the goal of diversifying reading lists. Sometimes, this was with someone I’d never really spoken to before, but who then became an ally or a go-to person for further conversations, and someone who I knew was pushing forward the aims in their own departments. It also, unfortunately, revealed to me people who were set in their ways and refused to see any other viewpoint, or who believed that the goal was the obligatory, quota-driven approach dispelled above. You can’t change everyone’s mind, and nor should you necessarily, but I was keen to listen to people’s reasons for disagreeing with the goals of the project and sometimes those reasons showed a lack of understanding about how discrimination works and a lack of willingness to learn and grow.

This was my first truly cross-disciplinary project, working with (primarily) sociologists and library specialists and using theories and methods from their fields. Our primary theoretical tool was Critical Race Theory, also much in the press these days, which holds that racism is baked into our systems (in this case, reading lists, courses, university structures). CRT began as a legal theory but is applicable to fields beyond its origins, and has been used in education research before. It was this that helped us to determine our methods and the way we approached the qualitative data obtained from interviews, and it was the reason for the majority of the authors (and all of the student researchers) being people of colour, as the effect of lived experience is a crucial part of the work which I, as a white person from the Global North, couldn’t contribute. I was, however, happy that some of my linguistic practice did end up in the piece, in that the student focus groups I conducted, which produced some extremely rich data, were run following the methods of a sociolinguistic interview such as ones I’ve done in the past. Learning the theories, methods and conventions of a different field has been hard work, but it’s definitely been worth it.

If you click through to the open-access article, you can see the results of the reading list review of the departments in our study, the findings of the interviews with staff and students, and the outcome of the project in the form of the resources for shifting the balance to better reflect the population of our university.

Monday, 13 January 2020

100% belief about 100% racism

As promised, more on Stormzy. He caused a right ruckus the other day, not on purpose. In an interview in Italy, he said, when asked if he thought Britain was still racist today, "Definitely, 100%". This was reported by ITV and then others as him saying that he thought Britain was "100% racist". This was widely condemned, ridiculed and mocked, as well as provoking an absolute meltdown among people who took it to mean that Stormzy was calling them personally racist. (An aside: even if he had meant that Britain is 100% racist, he wouldn't be wrong, on the sensible definition of a racist society as one in which your racialised identity affects your success and advantage in life, which it does in Britain.)

Curiously, both phrasings could actually mean both things, but there's a tendency for them to be interpreted differently. The two meanings are: Stormzy is 100% of the belief that there is (some) racism in Britain; and Stormzy believes that Britain is 100% (i.e. entirely) racist. '100%' either quantifies the amount of racism (complete racism), or it quantifies his level of belief (total belief). While his phrasing lends itself strongly to the interpretation where he means "Yeah, I believe 100% that there is (some) racism", the phrasing reported lends itself more to "Yeah, I believe that Britain is 100% racist". Why? the position of the '100%' next to the adjective 'racist' in the inaccurate reporting implies modification of that adjective, or in other words, totally racist.

His answer as it was actually given could also mean this, though, even with the preceding question ("is Britain still racist today") for context: "Definitely, [it is] 100% [racist]". As noted above, I'd have supported his answer if this had been what he meant. But he was clear about the fact that it wasn't!

And I think you can get this correct reading even with the inaccurate phrasing, although it's less salient. In "Britain is 100% racist", I can get an interpretation here where '100%' is an intensifier rather than a proper quantifier, and means something more like 'definitely'. The meaning of "Britain is definitely racist" doesn't necessarily mean that every aspect of and person in Britain is racist: "Britain is racist" can mean "There is some racism in Britain". But because it can also mean the entirety, and the partial meaning isn't made explicit, the 'entirely racist' meaning is more readily available.

Monday, 6 January 2020

Supporting black students in(to) linguistics

The Linguistic Society of America (LSA) annual meeting has been happening, so loads of linguists I know are in New Orleans and I've got FOMO. Some of them are tweeting a lot and those people are heroes.

There seems to be a really strong theme this year focussing on race. At least, that's what I'm seeing on twitter - I don't know if it feels like a strong theme if you're sitting in the sessions on syntax or whatever. And that's actually part of the issue (as noted by Kirby Conrod here): talks on race and linguistics (and other 'social' stuff) are likely programmed as a special session, so you're either in 'proper' linguistics or you're in the talks on race, which is not going to bring those talks to the attention of people who aren't already interested in them, if you know what I mean.

Anyway, lots of really important and interesting stuff has been said at this conference, which I have been able to hear about because of the wonders of twitter and the free labour of the live tweeters (thank you again). For instance, Kendra Calhoun talked about how to encourage Black students to take up linguistics by having a Black-centred intro linguistics class. This is in the US, where linguistics is often a 'discovery major', and where there are Historically Black Colleges, as opposed to the UK where there are no such things and where you pick your subject before you start, but the principles of the talk seem to be pretty universal: ground the subject in things the students will be interested in.

For us, at my university, we have around a quarter to a third of students who are BAME (Black, Asian and Minority Ethnic - this is the term standardly used in the UK, and yes it is not ideal but it's the classification we use). The majority of these (in linguistics, at least) are Black British students.

Now, I'm going to try to articulate something and hopefully not make a mess of it. In the UK, people do not like to hear that systems and structures are racist. Stormzy highlighted that one quite nicely recently (more on that another day, maybe, as there are things to say about intensifiers). But they also don't think about race as being an issue here. I don't know if that's just a UK thing, but the default is always to say 'but gender!' or 'but working class!' and highlight gender or class as the relevant issue to whatever has been mentioned. Now, this in itself is a product of a racist society: to position gender or class in opposition to race means that you're talking about white women or the white working class. Including all working class people would include a lot of Black people too. I don't know the statistics nationwide, but among our students, Black students are disproportionately the first in their family to attend university or from a lower socioeconomic background, i.e. the proxy for working class.

So this tweet from Juan Luna Díaz-Durán seemed kind of relevant. He says (possibly quoting a conference speaker?) that when departments say they 'don't do sociolinguistics', they mean they 'don't do Black people'. Most linguistics departments in the UK do do sociolinguistics, I think, but that doesn't necessarily mean they talk about race at all. Traditionally, sociolinguistics focussed on dialect by looking at what are called NORMs, Non-mobile Older Rural Men, who have the most preserved older dialect forms. They're white, of course. Nowadays, there are lots of people who are looking at race/ethnicity and language, but because it's newer as a field, it's slow to find its way into our modules. Many of the best scholars are still doing their PhDs or not yet in full-time teaching jobs. Compounding this problem is the lack of confidence that most people have in talking about race, because it is such a taboo subject - we've been trained 'not to see colour'. So sociolinguistics classes can talk about classic studies of language variation and class and gender all term, and never once mention the literal language that many of our students speak, Multicultural London English, a variety that is absolutely linked to class, region, age, gender and ethnicity (despite the name).

This would be an ideal 'way in' to linguistics for students - their own language is new and emerging and interesting. Our inbuilt racism tells us that this is a minority subject, so it's best to stick to something universal like class - forgetting that just as we all have a 'class' (that doesn't mean much any more) we all have a racialised identity. Not to include discussion of race is to erase that part of our identity and perpetuate the whiteness and racism that exists in the field.

Wednesday, 13 July 2016

Who are men?

News changes quickly at the moment and this article from last Friday is already well out of date. However, it contains an interesting turn of phrase.

It's about having a female Prime Minister, and being female in politics. It says this:
Even now women who choose politics have to decide how to define themselves in the context of gender in a way that would seem bizarre for men (although familiar enough to politicians from black and minority ethnic backgrounds). 
If I'm being generous, I'll say that it's contrasting women with men, and white people with people from black and minority ethnic backgrounds, and these two groups cross-cut each other (you can be both or neither).

If I'm not being generous, I'd say that 'men' here refers to 'white men', given that otherwise there's a weird contrast in that 'men' would find this situation bizarre but 'politicians from black and minority ethnic backgrounds', who are likely to be men, wouldn't.

OK, intersectionality is hard, and we haven't mentioned the fact that plenty of other sorts of people would recognise this disparity, but it is possible to avoid clumsiness like this.

Tuesday, 5 May 2015

The location of 'not'

I overheard an interesting conversation on the train this weekend. One man was telling his friend about 'the most racist moment ever on live television'. It went approximately like this (and I don't know what TV programme it was - he'd seen it on the internet):

On a television programme, some people had to choose who to give the money to out of a couple of women, a black man, and someone else of some ethnic minority (the speaker thought 'maybe Hawaiian'). Someone on this programme apparently said of the black man,
'I don't think he should get the money because he's black'. 
He apparently followed up with some justification about it giving ethnic minorities a bad name, 'always playing the victim'.

This is not great however you spin it, but there are actually (at least) two interpretations, and one is way worse than the other. It has to do with what's called the 'scope' of the negation. In other words, what is it that's negated here?

One meaning is something like this: 'I think that this man should not get the money, and the reason I think that is because he is black and I'm against black people being given money'. On this interpretation, the speaker simply doesn't want the black man to get the money.

The other is something like 'I don't think that this man should get the money simply by virtue of his being black, because racial discrimination is a bad thing even if it's positive discrimination'. On this interpretation, the speaker may decide that the black man should get the money for some other reason, but doesn't think his race should be the criterion for making the decision.

We can see what's going on if I write out those paraphrases using some formal phrasing 'it is the case that', which means something like 'the following is true', and put each part of the sentence on a new line:
It is the case that
I think that
he should not get it because he is black
It is not the case that
I think that
he should get it because he is black
You can see that the not, which I emboldened in the examples above, is in a different place in each one.

In the first one, the negation is part of the 'lowest' level of embedding and only negates the 'getting the money' situation: he should not get the money because he is black. The higher levels tell us that the speaker does indeed believe this (negated) proposition.

In the second one, the negation is 'higher up' - it negates the whole situation of the speaker thinking something. The lowest level is the proposition that he should get the money because he is black, and the not tells us that speaker does not believe this.

Maybe it's hard to follow this if you just read it through, but if you think about the two paraphrases you'll probably find you have these same two interpretations. I leave you with a joke that requires a similar scope-of-negation ambiguity:
A newly-wed couple are leaving for their honeymoon. The man says to the woman, 'Would you have married me if my father hadn't left me a fortune?', to which she replies, 'Darling, I'd have married you no matter who had left you a fortune'. 

Friday, 16 May 2014

Gwynne, sexist language and causing offence

He's good value, that Gwynne chap. Two posts out of one little book which I haven't even read.

In his preface, Gwynne explains about his use of pronouns. He notes that 'he' used to be used for 'a member of the human race of either sex', but now is found offensive by 'some people' (here, he implicitly compares these overly sensitive people to those sensible women who used to use 'he' 'without hesitation or objection'). He (rightly) says that 'he or she' is 'disagreeably clumsy', but then irrationally dismisses singular 'they', a perfectly elegant and simple solution with good historical pedigree. His dismissal is based on nothing more than the 'authoritative' opinion of a style guide and Simon Heffer, who is a journalist, and whose work has been called 'staggeringly erroneous' and inconsistent by, you know, actual authorities on language (=linguists). So, he says, he will avoid generic 'he' where it is possible to do so, so as not to potentially annoy those namby pamby sensitive readers. However, avoiding it completely is beyond even Gwynne's considerable writing skills, and so sometimes, he must use it to avoid awkwardness. He says,
Please be assured, therefore, on the few occasions that you see the all-embracing 'he' or equivalent, that it is occurring without any offence being intended.
Oh, well, that's all right then. If he doesn't mean any offence, there won't be any offence. Permit me to make an extreme analogy, which I'll put under a break as it refers to highly offensive language (the 'n-word').