You’ve GOT to be Carefully Taught
“You’ve GOT to be Carefully Taught”
By Robert Throne
(Editor’s Note: Bob Throne and I first got to know each other as seminary students at Andover
Newton Theological School about twenty-five years ago and have remained friends since then.
During all these times, Bob’s commitment to racial and social justice has remained strong, both
because his family is multi-racial and because he served one of the few multi-racial
congregations in the UUA. His words here, therefore, come from personal and professional
experiences. John Morgan.)
“You’ve GOT to be taught to be afraid,
Of people whose skin is a different shade,
And people whose eyes are oddly made.
You’ve got to be carefully taught.
You’ve got to be taught before it’s too late,
Before you are six or seven or eight;
To hate all the people your relatives hate
You’ve got to be carefully taught.
You’ve got to be carefully taught.”
These words are from the musical South Pacific, of course, by Rogers and Hammerstein. They
were written a half century ago but they are still instructive today.
Let me tell you a story. This one’s on me, and it wound up on the front page of the Washington
Post about ten years ago. The first autumn I was called to the Unitarian Universalist Church of
the Restoration in Mt. Airy, Philadelphia, I found myself on a six hour drive to western PA for a
meeting of the Pennsylvania Universalist Convention. One twenty-five member of Restoration
was driving and after an hour or two of casual conversation, getting to know one another, I
turned to her and said - ‘What’s a proud African American women like you doing in a UU
congregation?’ Without hesitation, she replied - ‘Oh, I was raised Baptist but I always
questioned the superstitious stuff as a young women and I wanted a place where I could think for
myself’. A classic UU experience, I believe.
But my question was essentially racist.
I might have asked many other people about how they became UU, but I would never have
mentioned race. Indeed, I HAD asked dozens of people about their UU story. But I assumed that
this particular woman’s race made a difference … I didn’t ask how she became a UU, and then
ask if being Black had made her story different. I just unthinkingly assumed it. It’s a subtle point,
but rooted in what I had been ‘taught’ … that race makes people different. Well, maybe it does;
maybe--or maybe not; depending on the individual and the subject ay hand.
Now I was in my early 40’s at the time, married to a Jewish woman, with children who were White,
Portuguese, and Black--a thoroughly diverse family. And we had sought out and lived in
integrated communities for our entire marriage, had been cross-racial adoption activists, and
had had not a few difficult struggles with racism among our own families, even. But still, I had
assumed, without thinking or asking, that race automatically made a difference.
Here’s another story. In the course of one of the very few conversations about race among
Black and White folks I’ve ever experienced, a long time White, member asked ‘Well just what IS
the “Black” experience anyhow?” And a lovely Black friend and neighbor of maybe fifteen years
replied ‘Oh just this week I was in Windfall - a very smart jewelry shop in an upscale
neighborhood - and when I went to buy a bracelet they took my credit card into the back room
and only returned after about five minutes. Has that ever happened to you? And my son, in his
30’s and a high school teacher, has White folk cross the street to avoid his walking too close to
them. This happens all the time. Does that happen to your son?’
I could go on. There was a denominational event there at Restoration and a UU visitor from
central PA saw a woman, a Black woman, with a tray and knowing that the hor’deurves had been
catered, asked “Oh would you please get me some more of those cheese things from the
kitchen ?’ The woman she asked was the former Moderator of the congregation. The only
“caterers’ help” that evening was a young White woman wearing a conspicuous apron with the
caterers name across the front.
Assumptions—we all make them because we have all been “carefully taught“. Assumptions
ooze from the cultural woodwork and float unabated through our social atmosphere.
If we had time, I’m sure we could do a little workshop and each of us shares a few stories of our
own. Maybe tell a few on ourselves, even. Maybe there will be some of that at coffee hour.
Sometimes that’s the most meaningful part of Sunday morning.
I wish I could tell you that as UU’s - with the “the inherit worth and dignity of the individual” at the
heart of our faith - that we UU’s are a bit ahead of the rest of society on this issue. But I can’t.
Our congregations are almost entirely all White or token integrated. Only a handful of our
congregations are genuinely integrated, and there are only a couple more so than there were 25
years ago, notwithstanding that Bill Sinkford, our current President, is Black. But many
evangelical congregations and not a few mainstream Protestant and Catholic congregations far
outstrip us. We reflect the larger society even as there has been progress, especially in the
military and the workplace where there are some reasonably effective laws and enforcement.
But where there is less effective regulation, in areas where things are more informal and
voluntary, there is still and abundance of racism.
Much of it is more subtle, covert “unintentional” slips of the tongue and the like. But there is still
plenty of raw bigotry. My daughter has been stopped for “driving while Black” and she and her
husband have heard the “N” word a few times. And the disparity in our health care, education,
and housing is terribly discouraging. Indeed, racism still literally kills people. Look at the
experience in New Orleans after the hurricane or examine the facts in education, housing and
healthcare in any American town or city.
Instead, I’d like to turn to the question of what we can DO about racism … how we can respond
to what goes on in our presence … and how we can look at ourselves a bit more clearly and
understand how WE … all of us … you …have been “carefully taught”. How do we unlearn all
those attitudes, assumptions, and habits that were “drummed in our dear little ears?” These
attitudes are still being used in dozens of implicit but powerful ways … by the media... by the
makeup of our neighborhoods (and congregations) - still so sadly narrow
Perhaps some of you reading this may be a bit more ready to teach yourself how to reflect on
what you’ve been taught, how to un-learn some old deeply buried assumptions and habits, and
maybe even to begin to learn new assumptions and habits.
There is no lack of resources these days. That’s one small but hopeful bit of progress. The
libraries and bookstores are filled with thoroughly researched and eloquently told volumes on
the subject. I’ll mention just one: The Rage of a Privileged Class, by Ellis Cose. And every TV
network has by now done several major specials on racism … renting and viewing a couple is
instructive; doing it together in group can be even more helpful. The UUA has a range of
programs you can draw on as a congregation. There is no lack of resources.
But most of all, I guess I just want plead with you as a father and grandfather to take one little
constructive step every day to reduce the residue of racism that clings to us all. If you run into a
person of color on the street, don’t change your path to avoid him. Look him in the eye and give
him a warm “hello”. If a “slip of the tongue” of any sort does escape your lips, catch it and
apologize immediately … and I mean not only if there is a person of color there, but equally,
maybe more urgently, if it happens with all Whites around. If you can do that once or twice, I
urge you to be courageous and speak up when you hear some one else’s “slip of the tongue”.
I know how had that is … I still struggle with it myself … and I’ve lost some friends for it, I guess -
or at least cooled some relationships. But it’s easier for me to give Mattie and Kareem, Jonathan
and Sophia - my grandchildren - a hug. I sleep better.
If you’re already doing these kind of things, consistently, habitually, as part of you’re everyday
persona, there are more ambitious things to do, too. (And you are also a very, very rare person
... I’ve met only a couple such people and I doubt I’d pass the consistency test myself.)
There are institutional issues around every corner screaming for people of conscience to speak
up. Are your schools well integrated? And is the curriculum deeply reflective of and honest
about the experience of African Americans? Do the groups you belong to - Rotary, garden
clubs, golf clubs, book groups, symphony, swim club, whatever - genuinely welcome Black folk?
.. Do they ever reach out to be more inclusive? Do they even mention the subject? And of
course there is the whole political arena... Do you make the issue of racism central in your own
voting decisions? Do you question where the candidates stand, with rigor, about the implications
of their policy positions on people of color? Are you active politically, at any level, and bring a
healthy awareness of racism’s residue to your effort?
Perhaps the most effective thing you can do is to help teach our children about living together
inclusively. The world is getting very, very small and people of all kinds of complexions and
cultures are being thrown together more and more. By helping our children learn to respect and
appreciate and embrace people who are different - while being comfortable with themselves - is
a huge gift. And it is also one of the most effective ways to teach yourself about these things. It
opens your eyes, helps you see things more clearly, and reinforces your own every day ways.
All of these are ways to make a difference. And if enough of us do enough, they will make a
difference to my grandchildren. What’s more, they will make a difference to YOU. Surely you’ve
had an experience here and there where some good deed you have done, perhaps out of
simple habit or just a quick, intuitive thought (not out of calculated guilt) has really helped
someone. Feels great, doesn’t it. Your actions DO count. The human reality we live with
every day is largely the result of billions of little actions, gestures, sentiments that have
accumulated into social habits and norms. We have all been “carefully taught” … and are being
taught as the days and months and years pass.
“You’ve GOT to be taught to be afraid,
Of people whose skin is a different shade,
And people whose eyes are oddly made
You’ve got to be carefully taught.
You’ve got to be taught before it’s too late,
Before you are six or seven or eight;
To hate all the people your relatives hate
You’ve got to be carefully taught.
You’ve got to be carefully taught.”
Bob Throne is a retired minister and former human resource specialist who midwifed the hiring of
the first African Americans, women and gays at Pacific Life Insurance.
By Robert Throne
(Editor’s Note: Bob Throne and I first got to know each other as seminary students at Andover
Newton Theological School about twenty-five years ago and have remained friends since then.
During all these times, Bob’s commitment to racial and social justice has remained strong, both
because his family is multi-racial and because he served one of the few multi-racial
congregations in the UUA. His words here, therefore, come from personal and professional
experiences. John Morgan.)
“You’ve GOT to be taught to be afraid,
Of people whose skin is a different shade,
And people whose eyes are oddly made.
You’ve got to be carefully taught.
You’ve got to be taught before it’s too late,
Before you are six or seven or eight;
To hate all the people your relatives hate
You’ve got to be carefully taught.
You’ve got to be carefully taught.”
These words are from the musical South Pacific, of course, by Rogers and Hammerstein. They
were written a half century ago but they are still instructive today.
Let me tell you a story. This one’s on me, and it wound up on the front page of the Washington
Post about ten years ago. The first autumn I was called to the Unitarian Universalist Church of
the Restoration in Mt. Airy, Philadelphia, I found myself on a six hour drive to western PA for a
meeting of the Pennsylvania Universalist Convention. One twenty-five member of Restoration
was driving and after an hour or two of casual conversation, getting to know one another, I
turned to her and said - ‘What’s a proud African American women like you doing in a UU
congregation?’ Without hesitation, she replied - ‘Oh, I was raised Baptist but I always
questioned the superstitious stuff as a young women and I wanted a place where I could think for
myself’. A classic UU experience, I believe.
But my question was essentially racist.
I might have asked many other people about how they became UU, but I would never have
mentioned race. Indeed, I HAD asked dozens of people about their UU story. But I assumed that
this particular woman’s race made a difference … I didn’t ask how she became a UU, and then
ask if being Black had made her story different. I just unthinkingly assumed it. It’s a subtle point,
but rooted in what I had been ‘taught’ … that race makes people different. Well, maybe it does;
maybe--or maybe not; depending on the individual and the subject ay hand.
Now I was in my early 40’s at the time, married to a Jewish woman, with children who were White,
Portuguese, and Black--a thoroughly diverse family. And we had sought out and lived in
integrated communities for our entire marriage, had been cross-racial adoption activists, and
had had not a few difficult struggles with racism among our own families, even. But still, I had
assumed, without thinking or asking, that race automatically made a difference.
Here’s another story. In the course of one of the very few conversations about race among
Black and White folks I’ve ever experienced, a long time White, member asked ‘Well just what IS
the “Black” experience anyhow?” And a lovely Black friend and neighbor of maybe fifteen years
replied ‘Oh just this week I was in Windfall - a very smart jewelry shop in an upscale
neighborhood - and when I went to buy a bracelet they took my credit card into the back room
and only returned after about five minutes. Has that ever happened to you? And my son, in his
30’s and a high school teacher, has White folk cross the street to avoid his walking too close to
them. This happens all the time. Does that happen to your son?’
I could go on. There was a denominational event there at Restoration and a UU visitor from
central PA saw a woman, a Black woman, with a tray and knowing that the hor’deurves had been
catered, asked “Oh would you please get me some more of those cheese things from the
kitchen ?’ The woman she asked was the former Moderator of the congregation. The only
“caterers’ help” that evening was a young White woman wearing a conspicuous apron with the
caterers name across the front.
Assumptions—we all make them because we have all been “carefully taught“. Assumptions
ooze from the cultural woodwork and float unabated through our social atmosphere.
If we had time, I’m sure we could do a little workshop and each of us shares a few stories of our
own. Maybe tell a few on ourselves, even. Maybe there will be some of that at coffee hour.
Sometimes that’s the most meaningful part of Sunday morning.
I wish I could tell you that as UU’s - with the “the inherit worth and dignity of the individual” at the
heart of our faith - that we UU’s are a bit ahead of the rest of society on this issue. But I can’t.
Our congregations are almost entirely all White or token integrated. Only a handful of our
congregations are genuinely integrated, and there are only a couple more so than there were 25
years ago, notwithstanding that Bill Sinkford, our current President, is Black. But many
evangelical congregations and not a few mainstream Protestant and Catholic congregations far
outstrip us. We reflect the larger society even as there has been progress, especially in the
military and the workplace where there are some reasonably effective laws and enforcement.
But where there is less effective regulation, in areas where things are more informal and
voluntary, there is still and abundance of racism.
Much of it is more subtle, covert “unintentional” slips of the tongue and the like. But there is still
plenty of raw bigotry. My daughter has been stopped for “driving while Black” and she and her
husband have heard the “N” word a few times. And the disparity in our health care, education,
and housing is terribly discouraging. Indeed, racism still literally kills people. Look at the
experience in New Orleans after the hurricane or examine the facts in education, housing and
healthcare in any American town or city.
Instead, I’d like to turn to the question of what we can DO about racism … how we can respond
to what goes on in our presence … and how we can look at ourselves a bit more clearly and
understand how WE … all of us … you …have been “carefully taught”. How do we unlearn all
those attitudes, assumptions, and habits that were “drummed in our dear little ears?” These
attitudes are still being used in dozens of implicit but powerful ways … by the media... by the
makeup of our neighborhoods (and congregations) - still so sadly narrow
Perhaps some of you reading this may be a bit more ready to teach yourself how to reflect on
what you’ve been taught, how to un-learn some old deeply buried assumptions and habits, and
maybe even to begin to learn new assumptions and habits.
There is no lack of resources these days. That’s one small but hopeful bit of progress. The
libraries and bookstores are filled with thoroughly researched and eloquently told volumes on
the subject. I’ll mention just one: The Rage of a Privileged Class, by Ellis Cose. And every TV
network has by now done several major specials on racism … renting and viewing a couple is
instructive; doing it together in group can be even more helpful. The UUA has a range of
programs you can draw on as a congregation. There is no lack of resources.
But most of all, I guess I just want plead with you as a father and grandfather to take one little
constructive step every day to reduce the residue of racism that clings to us all. If you run into a
person of color on the street, don’t change your path to avoid him. Look him in the eye and give
him a warm “hello”. If a “slip of the tongue” of any sort does escape your lips, catch it and
apologize immediately … and I mean not only if there is a person of color there, but equally,
maybe more urgently, if it happens with all Whites around. If you can do that once or twice, I
urge you to be courageous and speak up when you hear some one else’s “slip of the tongue”.
I know how had that is … I still struggle with it myself … and I’ve lost some friends for it, I guess -
or at least cooled some relationships. But it’s easier for me to give Mattie and Kareem, Jonathan
and Sophia - my grandchildren - a hug. I sleep better.
If you’re already doing these kind of things, consistently, habitually, as part of you’re everyday
persona, there are more ambitious things to do, too. (And you are also a very, very rare person
... I’ve met only a couple such people and I doubt I’d pass the consistency test myself.)
There are institutional issues around every corner screaming for people of conscience to speak
up. Are your schools well integrated? And is the curriculum deeply reflective of and honest
about the experience of African Americans? Do the groups you belong to - Rotary, garden
clubs, golf clubs, book groups, symphony, swim club, whatever - genuinely welcome Black folk?
.. Do they ever reach out to be more inclusive? Do they even mention the subject? And of
course there is the whole political arena... Do you make the issue of racism central in your own
voting decisions? Do you question where the candidates stand, with rigor, about the implications
of their policy positions on people of color? Are you active politically, at any level, and bring a
healthy awareness of racism’s residue to your effort?
Perhaps the most effective thing you can do is to help teach our children about living together
inclusively. The world is getting very, very small and people of all kinds of complexions and
cultures are being thrown together more and more. By helping our children learn to respect and
appreciate and embrace people who are different - while being comfortable with themselves - is
a huge gift. And it is also one of the most effective ways to teach yourself about these things. It
opens your eyes, helps you see things more clearly, and reinforces your own every day ways.
All of these are ways to make a difference. And if enough of us do enough, they will make a
difference to my grandchildren. What’s more, they will make a difference to YOU. Surely you’ve
had an experience here and there where some good deed you have done, perhaps out of
simple habit or just a quick, intuitive thought (not out of calculated guilt) has really helped
someone. Feels great, doesn’t it. Your actions DO count. The human reality we live with
every day is largely the result of billions of little actions, gestures, sentiments that have
accumulated into social habits and norms. We have all been “carefully taught” … and are being
taught as the days and months and years pass.
“You’ve GOT to be taught to be afraid,
Of people whose skin is a different shade,
And people whose eyes are oddly made
You’ve got to be carefully taught.
You’ve got to be taught before it’s too late,
Before you are six or seven or eight;
To hate all the people your relatives hate
You’ve got to be carefully taught.
You’ve got to be carefully taught.”
Bob Throne is a retired minister and former human resource specialist who midwifed the hiring of
the first African Americans, women and gays at Pacific Life Insurance.
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