Explaining Social Justice to My Conservative Family
By: Sylvester N. Gaskin, M.Ed

One rainy day, I was sitting in my office, sipping on a cup of free-trade coffee and listening to my new Joss Stone CD. When the song “Bruised but Not Broken” came on, my thoughts drifted towards my work of becoming an effective social justice activist. Soon thereafter, I started reminiscing about an encounter I had with my family in Iowa that tested my skills. I surmised that sharing my experience might lead for others to share their work to their respective families and possibly have a smoother time than I did.

During the summer of 2007, I attended the Social Justice Training Institute (SJTI) in Springfield, Massachusetts. Needless to say, it was a very powerful experience. I was able to freely express my frustrations about my work, learn about my own internalized oppression, and how to become a more effective educator. I was surrounded by a supportive faculty, participants willing to engage in difficult dialogue, and discussions that lasted beyond the scheduled sessions. I left SJTI with a renewed focus on becoming a more effective agent for positive social change, a refreshed perspective about working with my colleagues, and plenty of resources to take back and use.  My first few days back in my office were challenging; it didn’t help that I came into work wearing a skull cap and was listening to James Brown’s “Papa Don’t Take No Mess” on repeat. However, after a week of being somewhat militant, it was time for me to attend a relaxing family reunion. And, the very skills I learned would be put to the test with a very unlikely group.

As I packed my car, I braced for a long trip. First off, I was driving six hours to the Amana Colonies in Iowa through a maze of cornfields and small towns. Secondly, this reunion was with my mother’s side of the family, many of which still live in Iowa. I had not seen many of them since the last reunion (almost 10 years), and I was sure I had forgotten most of their names. Plus, a majority of my family is staunchly religious and conservative, made evident with crucifixes and Bush-Cheney stickers affixed to the back of their vehicles. Finally, it really didn’t help that I was the only mixedrace member of a predominately Swedish family in attendance (with a couple of Norwegians thrown in the mix), and the fact my mother married a Black man was still a sore spot for some, even after 30 years and two children.  After my drive, I got a huge hug from my mother, a firm handshake from my grandfather, and a lot of blank stares. I likened it to many of my family not seen me in a while, but I was tracking some other things. I heard a cousin say “here comes mister college boy”, an uncle said “great, he’s here” in a condescending way, and my cousin’s wife (whom I’d never met until that day) shifted in her chair and hid her purse.

After I went into the large metal shed and met family members that I had never seen before, I sat down to get a bite to eat. Eager to catch up, my mom and grandmother wanted to know how my big, important conference in Boston went. I had told them I was going on a “training exercise” in Massachusetts, but neglected to mention that it was about social justice. I really didn’t know how to explain the term “social justice” before my trip, and I was a little hesitant to make an attempt. I told my mother and grandmother “Well, I was in Springfield, and my conference was about learning on how to deal with different people more effectively, and how to have easier conversations”. My grandmother responded with a simple “huh”, while my mother just simply smiled. For a quick second, I thought I had confused them enough that they simply forgot what I said. However, my mother told me, “That’s a great skill to have, and I’m glad you got the chance to learn more about it”.  I’m sure that’s what a mother is supposed to say in those situations, but in that moment it made me feel a little more comfortable.

But, as the reunion progressed, more family members asked me about my business trip to Boston. Once again, I was put into a position of correcting my whereabouts and trying to explain the concepts of social justice. A cousin of mine, Jeremy, really took on to what I was saying, and we actually had a good conversation.  He lives in a small town just east of Des Moines, and there is a growing Latino population that makes some of his neighbors uncomfortable. He mentioned some of the comments his coworkers say to him, and how they made him feel uneasy to even continue working there. I offered him some encouragement, and I even suggested we continue to talk about how he could handle the situation. It was great to help a family member, but not all of my conversations went that way. One of my uncles, who operates a church camp, overheard our conversation, and chimed in with unfunny jokes about his encounters with the Latino community. I felt my social justice training kicked in, and just as I was about to confront his comments, my mother jumped into the conversation and gently ordered me to help out in the kitchen. The social justice activist was thwarted by his own mother, relegated to mopping the floor with his younger cousins.

The next day, as my mother and I were driving to a restaurant, I asked her about the encounter that led to me making mashed potatoes and doing dishes. She told me that my uncle just has a weird sense of humor, and that I shouldn’t pay him any attention. She also said that his experiences with the Latino community weren’t always positive, so his thoughts were jaded. “Ha! That’s just a P.L.E. you’re using to justify his actions”. Due to her perplexed look, I had to explain what a P.L.E. was (perfectly logical explanation), and how people use them to justify their negative behaviors. She started getting mad with me and said, “You know, everyone in the world doesn’t have the education you have, so just remember that”. I responded with “But that doesn’t absolve people to think about what they say and the impacts it has”. She nodded with a hint of agreement, and then gave me a big hug and kiss.

Before I left back to work, I had lunch with a different uncle, my aunt, mother, grandmother and grandfather. We ordered lunch and struck up a conversation about the reunion.  My grandfather was very proud that I found him a large Swedish flag for his new recreational vehicle, and how my other uncle (the one mentioned above) was jealous. I smirked with a sense of bravado, feeling proud that I could make my jerk of an uncle angry. The social justice activist wins the fight, I thought. Then, my uncle at the table asked, “Hey, could you get your uncle one of those rainbow flags?” I asked what he meant by a rainbow flag, and he said “You know, one of those flags ‘those people’ fly”. As my family members shifted uncomfortably in their seats, my uncle said “You could put one on his camper, and wait to see his reaction. It would be pretty funny.” I quickly responded, “What would be funnier, the fact you would announce that he would be one of ‘those people’, or seeing his reaction that might announce his hatred towards ‘those people’? I doubt he’d be happy with this prank either way”. My family sat in stunned silence, while I continued to eat my lunch while humming “Papa Don’t Take No Mess” to myself.

As I continue to reflect on my experiences during the reunion, I know that my family and I have different perspectives in life. We have had such varied experiences that shape our thought processes and make us who we are. Even though some of the encounters I had were painful, I did feel good that I was able to make some of my family members think about their place in the world, and how they impact the people around them. I know there was some pain involved, and I’m sure I’ll hear about it at the next reunion. I also know that many of my family will be set in their thoughts and beliefs, and it won’t matter how much social justice training I do, they’ll never change. But, my experience gave me hope that my work can have an impact, and I must continue to work hard for positive change for all people, no matter if I end bruised but not broken in the process.

Message from the Chair

Upcoming in the
World of Social Jusitce

Showing Up White

Explaining Social Justice to My Conservative Family

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The Voice: Nov. 2007