Yale University

Class News

Al Rossiter ’64 on his Black Lives Matter journey

January 23, 2021

First, some background. I grew up and was educated in a lily-white environment.  My town, my grade school, my prep school, my college, the schools where I taught, my town of Lincoln, MA, St. Anne’s Church where I worship regularly — all pretty much 100% white. I came from a loving family, had a first-rate education and lots of opportunities because I was a white male. Until I started volunteering in the prison system 10 years ago, I had no personal relationships with anyone who is black. Both my mother and father made only slightly veiled racist jokes. In my high school I never read any poem, play, or novel by a black person. I was clearly limited by a society that tacitly endorsed racism as well as a dominant white culture. I didn’t choose my upbringing and my education. So how should I feel about being a member of a dominant and dominating culture?

Middlesex Jail and House of Correction, Billerica, MA

The rector at my Episcopal church about a year ago asked me to serve on a committee which he was calling Racial Justice Allies. He said he felt that as a Christian community we had some obligation to learn about and try to serve those who had been omitted from full membership in our country for so many years. His invitation came at the right time. I joined and have become a member of the leadership team. 

It has been a fascinating journey for a 79-year-old white guy. Through my reading, discussions with members of our group, I have surfaced so many issues and questions. Here are a few. That interest me.

MLK's Letter from Birmingham City Jail, written in 1963 at the height of the protests in the South, reinforced an idea that was echoed by the German theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer:  “Silence in the face of evil is itself evil.” Bonhoeffer and King both articulated the need for those who care, especially those who call themselves "religious,"  to speak out and act on behalf of those who for so long have been suppressed. Being a Christian is so much more than going to church on Sunday. Do we attend religious services to be comforted and to find peace?  Yes. To be more active in support of racial justice? Also yes. Why didn’t the Church in Nazi Germany take a greater role in combating antisemitism? I am moved by MLK’s words: “Eleven o’clock on Sunday morning in Christian America is the most segregated hour of the week.”

Isabel Wilkerson’s Caste opened my eyes to the ways in which the white community had systematically repressed Blacks. Fascinating accounts in this book describe how the Nazis found in America a successful example of the ways in which a dominant culture can repress a "less desirable" culture. Hitler and his cronies used the lessons learned in America as the best way to subjugate the Jews. 

Our Racial Justice group meets every other week to plan and discuss. Our topics:

  • What can we do to help those people of color who are about to be evicted from their homes?
  • How can we further educate ourselves about racial issues?
  • What do we do with white guilt?
  • To what degree are we responsible for systemic racism that exists now and in the long history of this county?
  • What do we as white people owe Black folks?

All excellent questions, provocative, and well-worth asking.

I have nieces and nephews looking for teaching jobs. This is what they are indirectly hearing: "You white guys had your turn and Black folks didn't even dare apply. Now it's our turn, and maybe you need not apply." How should I deal with that? 

As I said above, I live in a white suburb of Boston. When I go into my local supermarket and see a Black person, my first reaction is "Black person."  Not male or female, or old or young, tall or short.  Black person.  I know I carry what Wilkerson calls an unconscious bias that surfaces in unintended and unwelcome ways. So, what do I do about that? Being fully aware of my unconscious bias is surely the first step.  

I don't in any way pretend to be an authority on race relations. Clearly, I don’t have any easy answers. I'm just a this-side-of-80 white guy who has been, and I hope will continue to be, on a fascinating journey of discovery about racial justice and injustice on so many levels. In some ways it's a good feeling to get my head out of the sand and take a closer look at my country. I just hope that my very young grandchildren can inherit a country which includes all, regardless of color. People like Kamala Harris and Raphael Warnock fuel that hope.