Rubbernecking The Racist Incident: Stop Gawking and Do Something
By Audrey Roofeh
The New York Times published a story this weekend about two teenagers in Leesburg, Virginia: Mimi Groves, a white student who posted a snapchat video of herself in 2016 using a racial slur, and Jimmy Galligan, a classmate whose mother is Black and whose father is white, who re-shared the video after Groves responded to the murder of George Floyd by urging others to “protest, donate, sign a petition, rally, do something” in support of the Black Lives Matter movement.
Let’s stop for a moment and state the obvious: Ms. Groves’ snapchat video was racist and demeaning. It was also, according to the article, behavior that was familiar at her school, where the school system and community failed to address and prevent racist behavior from students, and from teachers. Also obvious is that Mr. Galligan took action where the adults around him repeatedly failed to.
Following the re-sharing of the video, Ms. Groves withdrew from her college of choice (a big focus of the article) and experienced a backlash. It’s unsurprising that the Times chose to focus on the experiences of Mr. Galligan and Ms. Groves. The human stories get the clicks. We’re probably less likely to dive on a push notification about the implementation of the Loudon County Public Schools action plan to combat systemic racism. But if we don’t keep an eye on the systems of accountability and how each of us play a role in those systems, we’re missing the point and the opportunity for change.
Instead of gawking at the racist incidents reported in the news, I try to use this as an opportunity to hone the skills I did not grow up with: identifying racist acts and the actions to undermine it. If you’re like me, continually learning to undo the comfort with racism that I’m familiar with, then I’d suggest adding this lens when you read an article like this. Where did the institution fail when its members promoted racism? What’s my role? How can I make change from where I am? From this article alone, there are multiple opportunities to say: what should I do when this happens?
“Once during Black History Month, [a student] recalled, gym teachers at her elementary school organized an “Underground Railroad” game, where students were told to run through an obstacle course in the dark. They had to begin again if they made noise.”
“Black students said they had long been subjected to ridicule[,] “[g]o pick cotton,” some said they were told in class by white students.”
Mr. Galligan recalled being mocked with a racial slur by students and getting laughed at by a white classmate after their senior-year English teacher played an audio recording of the 1902 novella “Heart of Darkness” that contained the slur.
During that school year, Mr. Galligan said, the same student made threatening comments about Muslims in an Instagram video. Mr. Galligan showed the clip to the school principal, who declined to take action, citing free speech and the fact that the offensive behavior took place outside school. “I just felt so hopeless,” Mr. Galligan recalled.
“The slur, he said, was regularly hurled in classrooms and hallways throughout his years in the Loudoun County school district.”
“He had brought the issue up to teachers and administrators but, much to his anger and frustration, his complaints had gone nowhere.”
And you’re reading this now, but recalling the event that happened last week, last month, last year in your life. Bring it up, talk about it. Talk about what you and others need to do now to make sure it doesn’t happen again. It’s not water under the bridge. It’s still here, affecting people. Don’t drop the ball.
Audrey Roofeh
