Daily Archives: July 17, 2020

Pittsburghs first experiment in creating an ecovillage is starting to take shape on the Eden Hall campus of Chatham University in Gibsonia.

Named after the schools most renowned student and environmental pioneer, the Rachel Carson EcoVillage is based on the concept of intentional community and is designed collectively by its residents.

Its a community of people who care about both living lightly on the planet, living with nature and also living with their neighbors, says Stefani Danes, an architect and Carnegie Mellon professor whos helping to guide the project. That idea of community is really at the heart of an ecovillage.

Also known as cohousing, an ecovillage typically includes 20 to 30 units of housing, in which everyone has a private house. However, theres also a common house with a large dining room where residents take turns preparing meals for one another along with guest rooms. There can also be everything from shared childcare space to shared tools and/or office equipment.

Theyve launched a website, and the first four homebuyers have committed, out of a core group of 30 to 40 people who are involved with the project. Construction is expected to start soon, once there are 15 homebuyers. More than 100 people have inquired about the project.

The plan for many years was to build an ecovillage in a walkable part of the city of Pittsburgh, but that never panned out.

Ive been attracted to ecovillages, intentional communities, and the like for about 25 years and have always wanted one in Pittsburgh, says Grace Astraea, who plans to move into the Rachel Carson EcoVillage. Having kept an eye on the Pittsburgh Cohousing Group for the last 20 years and their efforts to create something in the city has been akin to watching the worlds longest seed sprouting take place.

One would think that the pandemic would have dampened the interest in this sort of common, shared use of space. But that hasnt been the case.

Having neighbors you know is the best way of seeing through any emergency, says Danes. A community can thrive through all kinds of tough times There is a very strong interest now in intentional communities. Many people have seen the isolation that this pandemic has brought to the surface. Many people live alone, without knowing their neighbors.

The common dinners that are a primary and beloved feature of ecovillages might not happen in a pandemic. But knowing all your neighbors means knowing if someone has a special skill for making masks or knowing that someone is at-risk so a neighbor can shop for them.

The core planning group has even committed to learning a different style of collaborative decision-making called dynamic governance or sociocracy. Theyre taking an online course together to learn about the process.

Rendering of the Orchard Commons at the Rachel Carson EcoVillage.

The Eco part of the Rachel Carson EcoVillage is bound up in the notion of community, too.

Just like friends exercise better when they do it together, a community composts regularly, adopts sharing strategies that reduce the consumption of things and uses things more thoughtfully, explains Danes.

By sharing so much, people can live in a more sustainable, affordable way, notes Danes. Research done on an ecovillage in Ithaca, New York, indicates that ecovillagers average a 40% smaller carbon footprint than most American families.

The houses will be built according to passive house standards, designed with computer modeling to have ultra-insulated walls and windows that waste the least amount of energy possible.

Lots of collaborations are planned with Chathams environmental researchers at the Falk School of Sustainability & Environment, which is based at the Eden Hall campus. Everything from rainwater to trees will be carefully considered.

The trees we plant will become part of a maturing native forest, says Danes. Well be working closely with Chatham on this process of regenerative planting of the landscape.

When fully built out, the Rachel Carson EcoVillage will have 35 units and a common dining house. Two small units will be located above the dining house to provide affordable options. The other 33 will be built in clusters around three courtyards and will range from studios to 3-bedroom houses. Each will have a front yard and a backyard and share a common courtyard. The community will connect to the heart of the Eden Hall campus via a five-minute walk along a wooded trail.

Astraea says that a lot of things have attracted her to the project.

To name a few, the governance model that weve adopted (dynamic governance) is probably the best method available for efficient and effective governing, she says.The location is absolutely gorgeous. The meadow that the village will be built in has a wondrous trail around it that inspires and nurtures and has space enough for many people.

The prices arent out of the ordinary, even with the common facilities included. Studios range from $160-$180,000 and the 3-bedroom houses are in the $400,000 range. Most units will be $200,000 to $300,000.

Youre not paying for the developer who walks away with a pocket full of profit, says Danes. Were selling all of these at cost.

Rachel Carsons nephew gave the Rachel Carson EcoVillage permission to use her name, and is eager to attend the ribbon-cutting celebration, says Danes.

On Sunday, July 19 at 10:30 a.m., there will be a free guided tour at the Eden Hall campus which is open to anyone, including children, whod enjoy learning about our woods and meadows while having a fun walk, says Danes.

Chatham UniversityecovillageEden HallRachel Carson EcoVillage

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Pittsburgh's first ecovillage moves forward with four units sold. Tour the site on Sunday - NEXTpittsburgh

Every year, extreme heat kills more people in the United States than any other weather-related event and hospitalizes thousands more, disproportionately burdening communities with the least resources.

With fewer parks, trees, and open green space, many under-resourced Black and Latinx neighborhoods will swelter this summer as they continue to fight the pandemic. Findings from the Healthy Neighborhoods Study show that residents in our nine partner communities in Eastern Massachusetts will experience scorching heat with temperatures up to 20 degrees higher than in other parts of the region.

Thats not an accident. Its the result of decades-old racist policies and current development practices.

For years, majority Black and brown communities have been marginalized on many fronts because of intentional disinvestment, redlining, the location of brownfields a site targeted for redevelopment though it may be contaminated with hazardous waste and development that added gray surfaces at the expense of green spaces.

These are the communities that suffer from worse health over time and are most negatively affected by changes like climate disasters and gentrification.

In fact, research has found that communities across the United States that experienced redlining the formerly legal practice of restricting home loans for people of color to certain areas are hotter and have worse air quality.

Typically, cities provide resources like cooling centers at libraries or malls or splash pads during heat waves. But social distancing and state-mandated closures make that challenging this summer. Further, in-home air conditioning isnt an affordable option for many who have lost their jobs because of the pandemic.

It doesnt have to be this way. Communities and elected leaders can do something.

The COVID-19 recovery process offers an opportunity to prepare high-risk communities for the climate challenges they will disproportionately face as temperatures rise. In the short term, cooling plans need to support social distancing, and over the long term, equitable development plans need to green, cool, and resource Black and brown communities. There are practical solutions in the work our community-based partners have been leading for decades.

Recovery and resilience funds must be directed toward at-risk neighborhoods, including support for increased energy efficiency, green infrastructure, flood mitigation, and expanded public transit.

State and city governments must invest in the equitable development of parks and urban green spaces so that all residents have access to safer, cooler, and less polluted environments and a better quality of life. Parks and trees not only cool the environment, but they also create opportunities for people to exercise and play, reduce stress, and socialize.

Additionally, residents should help determine how to expand green space, whether its for a community garden or a park or a playground to mitigate heat island effects over the long run. They should have ownership over what happens in their communities which not only leads to more effective solutions but also meaningfully contributes to better health.

Thats why its essential to center plans and responses for heat and climate impacts on those living and working in the places most impacted. Leaders must spend time in these communities to learn about the unique challenges people face; meet residents where they are, when theyre available, in the languages they speak; and listen. Developers and decision makers need to commit to full community engagement on important infrastructure decisions, such as the proposed effort underway to build a power substation in East Boston.

Society cant continue to tolerate the same kinds of inequities that make some areas more vulnerable to both COVID-19 and extreme heat. Justice demands that policy makers correct generations of discrimination and work to create a future where health and well-being for all are prioritized.

Climate change and COVID-19 are everyones problems. Communities of color should not continue to bear the greatest burdens for our entire region.

Reann Gibson is a senior research fellow at the Conservation Law Foundation and manager of its Healthy Neighborhoods Study.

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Communities of color hit hardest by heat waves - The Boston Globe

With their major institutions founded on white European models and obstinately focused on the distant past, classical music and opera have been even slower than American society at large to confront racial inequity. Black players make up less than 2 percent of the nations orchestras; the Metropolitan Opera still has yet to put on a work by a Black composer.

The protests against police brutality and racial exclusion that have engulfed the country since the end of May have encouraged individuals and organizations toward new awareness of long-held biases, and provided new motivation to change. Nine Black performers spoke with The New York Times about steps that could be taken to begin transforming a white-dominated field. These are edited excerpts from the conversations.

The first step is admitting that these organizations are built on a white framework built to benefit white people. Have you done the work to create a structure that is actually benefiting Black and brown communities? When that occurs, diversity is a natural byproduct. There needs to be intentional hiring of qualified Black musicians who you know are going to bring the goods to your audiences. Intentionally adding qualified Black board members to your organization: Thats going to allow access to these communities you need to bring into the circle. Administratively, people who are in the room will bring different perspectives. Chamber groups like mine, Imani Winds, have the ability to be more nimble; we can make our own rules and make our own platforms. As a chamber presenter, you can support groups that bring blackness and diversity in their programs.

Its incumbent upon leadership from the podium to be part of this: who gets hired, what repertory gets played, where the orchestra plays. If youre not willing, for example, to have minority music interns playing subscription concerts because they didnt take the audition, that doesnt make any sense to me. This person needs the opportunity to play this repertoire; you have to be willing to let that happen, and you cant bow to blowback from the full-time players.

In Philadelphia, for a community concert, they once found a high school that was acoustically inferior; aesthetically no comparison; the chorus in the audience behind me. It made no sense, except for the joy it brought to that community to have the Philadelphia Orchestra in their backyard. They want some sense that they count and they matter, and by going there its us saying yes, you do.

Composer

Im in my fifth year on the board of Chamber Music America, and more than half the board is people of color. Its very evenly balanced as far as gender and race; those changes were implemented through consulting work and training, and facilitated discussions among the board to make sure everyone was on the same page. Going through that process has been eye-opening, and proves how much time it takes. Now we are equipped to have these discussions about how this can trickle down to membership and granting opportunities. And I think presenting organizations need to take the time to get to know the artists. Getting to know new artists takes time and commitment; its a commitment to widen your perspective.

Conductor

I would like changes to be made in how we train musicians in conservatories and universities. A lot of our thinking, and our perceptions of whats good music, becomes indoctrinated at that stage. I say this because even though Im a person of color, I was guilty of not being accepting of new voices and styles outside of Beethoven, Schumann, all the usual music of the past. When we start with preconceived notions, we limit ourselves. People are afraid of being uncomfortable, but with discomfort comes growth. If students learn about composers like William Grant Still or Florence Price and their approaches to making music then they will become more versatile. And we will see that change taking place in our programming; schools wont just be producing conductors who want to do Wagner, Strauss and Mahler. I love these composers. But there are more voices to hear.

Clarinetist

Over the last month, youve seen all these outpourings, and its in these moments when you see: Are we really connected with the communities were doing this work in? At the New York Philharmonic, where I am principal clarinet, I think theres been incentive to partner up with the Harmony Program, which does after-school music education. Im doing the Music Advancement Program at Juilliard; the mission revolves around students from underserved communities. Its being a citizen in that way. The new way is actually getting on the ground and teaching, getting on the ground and having tough conversations about the state of our field and who were trying to reach. Being there to help people understand that the orchestra is there for them.

Singer

Artistic institutions need to be focused on representing and really serving the communities that theyre in. There needs to be community engagement, not community outreach. Outreach is something you do occasionally. But youre always in the act of engaging; its a constant effort. If there are changes in the administration, and the makeup of the board every level of every artistic organization that will spill into how this stuff is packaged. This is the beginning of change that can be meaningful. If we reinvent what the opera or classical music audience is, we wont have the disparities in people hired, people attending, even whats presented, because you will have different people coming up with new ideas.

Composer

Its like anything else: The organizations need to represent what America looks like. Well-intentioned people can just have blinders on. I dont look at it like a sinister plot; I look at it as people are going with what theyre comfortable with. If we had more representation in the leadership, in terms of who is signing off on projects, youll have more people bringing things to the table. What I saw at Opera Theater of St. Louis where I did Champion and Fire Shut Up in My Bones, which is going to the Met is those people are open to a lot of ideas. But we have to bring the ideas to them. We have to open their eyes. I really think in the art music world, people are clamoring for something different. When we did Champion in New Orleans, this African-American guy in his 70s said, If this is opera, I will come. Thats a new audience member we didnt have before. La Bohme doesnt mean anything to him. But these contemporary stories do.

Singer

Please, in the future, cast with your heart, not just with your eyes and your ears. Who gives you the goose bumps? Pick them. Some people see a Black tenor, and they think Otello. Or they see a Black soprano and they think Aida. Who wants to see a Black Cio-Cio San? Youll hear that. But yes, opera is a suspension of disbelief. When someone does Eugene Onegin, they will often cast someone Russian or fluent in Russian. It doesnt have to be who you expect. There are other people who can sing it. When it comes to Otello, you could paint everyone blue and paint Desdemona green. When it comes down to it, its not about color; its about difference.

Composer

Certain groups of people have felt that they did not belong, because most of the time they didnt see people who resembled them onstage. But even if things look good onstage, internally is that what is happening in the institution? Its a family type of thing. That person working in the office goes home and tells the people at home, and they usually have other friends. That is how audiences change. It has to be from the inside out. And if the stage reflects the society, you can find the best artists to be the ambassadors to those coming, and put them in front of the people. It could be the administrator, the person in charge of programming or a member of the orchestra. People have to address the audience, to let them feel I am one of you. And you will see: The whole thing will change like you have no idea.

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Black Artists on How to Change Classical Music - The New York Times

The first word, Black, was designed by Tijay Mohammed, a Ghanaian-born artist, and used vibrant Kente fabric design and Adinkra symbols, which represent concepts like royalty, unity and legacy.

Sophia Dawson, a Brooklyn-based visual artist, took the second word, lives. The L contains the faces of the mothers who have lost their children to police killings. The I uses imagery inspired by Emory Douglas, an artist for the Black Panther Party; the V highlights the culture of the African diaspora; the E contains faces of Black Panther Party members who are currently in prison; and the S carries a passage from the Bible.

The street painting at Foley Square resembles many that have been done around the country in its word choice and placement, but part of what has been lost in the national debate over the art and the political statements they make is the logistical care, intentional placement and artistry that went into the creation of many of them.

While some like those at Trump Tower and near the White House are primarily stencil work in the blazing yellow paint typically used for road markings, and are known largely for their challenging placement, others have been fully realized works of art that went through rigorous processes of design and planning.

This month, the Foley Square street art in Lower Manhattan and the one in Harlem were unveiled, with the multicolored letters of Black Lives Matter replete with imagery related to Black people who were killed by the police, as well as vibrant symbols of freedom, hope and joy.

In Cincinnati, the art appears in the red, black and green of the Pan-African flag, with silhouettes, phrases and textured designs filling the letters. In Jackson, Mich., it was designed it in a graffiti-style font. In Portland, Ore., the letters contained a timeline of historical injustices in the state.

The purpose of the Fifth Avenue project at Trump Tower was clear: to rile up the president, who called it a symbol of hate. The street painting was intended to get the message up quickly; the stenciling and outlining was done by the Department of Transportation, and roughly 60 volunteers helped lay down 100 gallons of traffic paint.

The other artworks in Manhattan were intended not as a political statement meant for President Trump to see but as an opportunity for local artists, community togetherness and discussions about race and policing. The outlines of the enlarged Black Lives Matter letters are filled with intentionally placed symbols and colors.

I wanted the design to embody our experience as a whole as a Black community and what we strive for, said Patrice Payne, one of the artists involved with the work at Foley Square.

Justin Garrett Moore, the executive director of the citys Public Design Commission, said that there is a clear difference between the street paintings borne from mayoral decision making, which serve as an acknowledgment that public officials have heard the calls of racial justice protesters, and the community-driven murals, where theres a deeper connection to the space and the message.

These are Black communities that are really wanting to have an expression for this historic moment that were in, he said.

It happened to be a work near the White House, spearheaded by the mayor of Washington, Muriel E. Bowser, that set the groundwork for the countrywide spilling of paint on the ground.

After the Washington painting made the news, an organization representing small business owners in Harlem, called Harlem Park to Park, started discussing what their version of a Black Lives Matter artwork would look like.

There was a certain expectation that Harlem, known as the epicenter of Black culture, needed to take the trend a level up, said Nikoa Evans-Hendricks, the groups executive director. The result was two sprawling sets of words on either side of Adam Clayton Powell Jr. Boulevard, between 125th and 127th Streets. On the northbound side, eight artists had creative control over two letters each. The southbound side was painted red, black and green by a collection of community groups.

We wanted to make sure the mural didnt just represent words on the street but embodied the Harlem community, Ms. Evans-Hendricks said.

The artists were chosen by LeRone Wilson, the artworks curator, who also designed the first two letters. The B that he designed depicts the Ancient Kemetic goddess Maat, with feathered wings reaching across the curves of the letter, and the bird deity Heru, welcoming the spirits of those who have died at the hands of police into the universe.

Within the L, he painted the names of 24 Black people killed by the police, including George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Michael Brown and Amadou Diallo.

Within the outlines of several other letters, the artists painted images associated with the outrage over the treatment of Black people by the police: The faces of Ms. Taylor and Sandra Bland and Mr. Floyds daughter occupy the two Ts in the word matter. The I in lives contains the badge numbers of the four police officers charged in connection with Mr. Floyds death.

The artists received advice from the citys Department of Transportation on what materials to use on the asphalt. They took the agencys recommendation of using road line paint used for markings on streets and sidewalks, which many artists right now are doing to make the street art more durable.

The act of painting the work in Harlem was designed as a community event, with catering from local restaurants and help painting from the Boys and Girls Club of Harlem and Harlem Little League.

Every day we were out there, hundreds of people wanted to be involved, Mr. Wilson said.

And after the unveiling, the space became a gathering place for people, as well as a space to appreciate art at a time when museums are shut because of the pandemic.

The creators are hoping that the city agrees to a request to keep the street closed to traffic until the end of the summer, as the city did with a street painting in the Bedford-Stuyvesant neighborhood of Brooklyn, which was created with the yellow traffic paint and contains the names of Black people killed by the police.

The location for the Harlem work was chosen because it was at the heart of a Black community. In Lower Manhattan at Foley Square, it was because of a nearby cherished national monument: It draws meaning from its proximity to the African Burial Ground, which contains the remains of New York Citys colonial African-American community.

Amina Hassen, an urban planner with WXY, an architectural and urban design firm that worked on the project, said that the location along Centre Street, near the state and federal court buildings, was also significant because of its connection to the policing and incarceration of Black people.

As with the Harlem work, the artists of the Foley Square project had control over the designs within the outline of the Black Lives Matter letters, but the city still had to review the designs to make sure they complied with safety standards. (This time the artists were chosen by the Department of Cultural Affairs, and the project was shepherded by Gale A. Brewer, Manhattan borough president, and Black Lives Matter of Greater New York.)

They first blocked out the artwork in 3-D software, carefully avoiding any street features that the Department of Transportation said they couldnt paint over, said Jhordan Channer, the architectural designer for the project. When it came time to install the 600-foot-long painting, they first painted a white canvas and a drop shadow to make sure the letters stood out. Tats Cru, a group of professional muralists in the city, executed the artists designs with heavy-duty traffic paint, exterior-grade enamel paint and spray paint. They were assisted by youth from Thrive Collective, an arts mentoring program that works with New York public schools.

For the last word, matters, Ms. Payne started in the M with the image of a Black woman as an ancestral figure and nurturer. The design progresses to images of broken shackles, a raised fist, a sun peeking out behind storm clouds, with a tattered American flag at the forefront.

Since the first street painting was unveiled in Washington, some segments of the Black Lives Matter movement have criticized them as being purely symbolic gestures from politicians at a time when activists are calling for the defunding of police departments.

The artists and designers behind the community-driven works say that there are important uses for this symbolism, like education and providing meaningful public art commissions by Black artists.

Ms. Evans-Hendricks remembers seeing a mother walking her son down the letters of the Harlem street art, which run between 14 and 16 feet wide, and explaining the meaning of each word.

It has come alive in a way that the community really needed, she said.

But they also recognize the limits of the works and hope that the solidarity coming from politicians goes beyond paint on the street.

Im very interested in the art going up and taking my child to visit it and discuss it, Ms. Dawson said. But Im more interested in the tangible change that must come from this.

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The Black Lives Matter Street Art That Contain Multitudes - The New York Times

Just a couple blocks west of Mill Creek Park the center of recent Black Lives Matter protests near the Country Club Plaza 3DHQ hopes youth tech outreach now can build a more inclusive future for creative problem solvers in Kansas Citys Black and urban communities, said Fabian Conde.

3DHQ

We want to be more intentional about our Black Lives Matter commitment and our partnership with Urban TEC gives us that opportunity to take direct action and invest in the next generation by teaching them 3D technology skills, said Conde, co-founder and CEO of 3DHQ, which launched in Kansas City as Doob in 2018.

A workshop Friday with Urban TEC a nonprofit digital literacy education organization led by Ina P. Montgomery that provides tech and soft skills training for future technology careers sought to introduce and engage a new generation of creators to 3D technology.

Click here to learn more about 3DHQ, which specializes in rapid prototyping and 3D-printed miniature statues.

By focusing on the potential for 3D printing to overcome a wide variety of challenges facing humanity from use cases in apparel, artificial organs and even mid-trip production of items while journeying through space Conde hoped to inspire young people with the opportunities that await in the industry.

Fabian Conde, 3DHQ

3D printing is just a tool that allows us to do cooler things, he told students at Fridays workshop, acknowledging a steep learning curve that ultimately creates an even better outcome. Conde specifically described 3DHQs own effort to craft a 3D-printed mask modeled by staff Friday at the Plaza shop that met the needs of the pandemic era.

It didnt come easily, he said.

You have to get all that stuff out of the way. Its OK to make mistakes as long as you use it as a lesson, Conde said. Then youre solving two problems at the same time.

Are you starting to see how you can make a difference with your ideas? he continued.

3DHQ recently designed and is now selling a Black Lives Matter keychain, proceeds from which go to support Urban TEC.

We are excited about this partnership and the funds that will go toward Urban TECs STEAM in the Streets program. It will be an opportunity for us to deliver our STEAM activities to different neighborhoods throughout greater Kansas City, said Montgomery, founder and executive director of Urban TEC.

Click here to learn more about Urban TEC.

This story is possible thanks to support from the Ewing Marion Kauffman Foundation, a private, nonpartisan foundation that works together with communities in education and entrepreneurship to create uncommon solutions and empower people to shape their futures and be successful.

For more information, visit http://www.kauffman.org and connect at http://www.twitter.com/kauffmanfdnandwww.facebook.com/kauffmanfdn

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More than statues: 3D printer on the Plaza showcases Urban TEC opportunity amid BLM movement - Startland News

By now, youve seen or heard the word privilege in myriad contexts: trumpeted from megaphones at city protests, stamped across aesthetically pleasing Instagram infographics, italicized and bolded in op-eds. In the context of recent race relations, the notion of privilege has been widely discussed and viewed as an exclusively White phenomenon that runs rampant in affluent, predominantly Caucasian, suburban neighborhoods, school districts, and job markets. However, while an emphasis on White privilege is certainly warranted, it egregiously neglects another facet of the conversation surrounding demographic entitlement: privilege in financially secure diverse communities and the blissful oblivion of first and second-generation immigrants.

As a first-generation Ethiopian American who, while not overtly wealthy, has never worried about the status of her familys financial stability, and as a resident of one of the most diverse regions in the country, racism had always felt like a distant concept. To my erroneously superficial understanding, while it did not seem as archaic as a mere relic of a bigoted history, I didnt perceive racism to be of significant pertinence to our world. My neighbors thought I was Indian; waiters spoke to my mother in Spanish at restaurants, and more than half of my high school identified as a person of color, so for years, Id unassumingly bubbled Black into standardized tests without truly internalizing the struggles that came with that label. Having never experienced or personalized the notion of racism and infrequently having been considered Black by my community upon first glance, I found myself in desperate need of the very re-education catered to many as Dear White People.

The inner dissonance I felt was not an individual occurrence. For a number of my close friends many Black, all minorities we collectively found that each of us felt relatively divorced from the intrinsic fear and dissatisfaction almost universal in the movement for racial justice. That is not to say that we were not angry we were, but as objectively privileged spectators and critics of a blatantly unjust institution, rather than as victims of racially motivated prejudice.

To look at racism as an outsider, though, is to exclude oneself from a narrative that cares very little about personal experiences or perceptions. In truth, although relatively affluent people of color and children of immigrants may be brought up in environments starkly juxtaposing the African American canon, it is only a matter of time before one comes face to face with the experiential component of racial injustice. By then, every facet of the privilege found in such immigrant communities exclusive cultural distinctions, communal disassociation, and microaggressive ignorance will have been undermined by the harsh realities of a society that not only sees color but vilifies it.

Growing up, race was an almost nonexistent part of my socialization; after all, how could my parents teach me about a construct with which they, at least at the time, could not identify and were unfamiliar? As a second-generation immigrant, I had been conditioned to view myself as an exception to the racial rules that governed America. At home, I spoke Amharic with my parents, often ate traditional Ethiopian cuisine, wore uniquely habesha clothes on special occasions, and endured years of Amharic music blaring through our living room stereo. When out in public, there was an unmistakable camaraderie between my family and the odd Ethiopian passerby to whom we called Selam in unison. It would not be an understatement, then, to say that Black culture vernacular English, hip hop, soul food had no presence in my house, not out of intentional avoidance but because, truly, Ethiopian American and African American mean very different things.

This same cultural disconnect extends itself to the millions of other Black immigrants in the United States, a divide that continues to widen as the non-American-born Black population grows exponentially. As a result, key statistical differences arise between immigrant communities and their African American counterparts. The Pew Research Center found that Black immigrants are 37% more likely to have earned a college degree than African Americans. They are also 29% less likely to live in poverty, with incomes exceeding those of African Americans by an average of $10,000. These disparities are certainly not due to intrinsic racial inefficacy in the African American community, as has been falsely and maliciously suggested by proponents of race science for centuries. Instead, they can be extrapolated to indicate discrepancies in socioeconomic status, societal respect, and even deliberate moves by immigrants themselves to distinguish their communities from what Americans might view as conventionally Black.

Many immigrants and their children naturally segregate themselves in what are known as ethnic enclaves a phenomenon that contributes to the perpetuation of both intentional divisions from mainstream America and subliminally developed prejudices against American-born Black people. On several occasions, Ive heard immigrant-born adults in my own life simultaneously delineate themselves from and speak pejoratively against African Americans, resorting to the stereotypical and substanceless derogations pinned on the Black community by centuries of de facto American culture: lack of education, cyclical poverty, unkempt hair and dress, salacious and libertine lifestyles.

Due to their disparate cultural environments and tendency to self-isolate, many immigrants are often wealthier, unaccustomed to racial friction in their home countries, and unable to own the history of Black America, from slavery to segregation. Such differences, however, become problematic when used as justification for actively pandering to and perpetuating negative societal perceptions of the African American community. In doing so, immigrants, especially African immigrants, become free riders on the wave of progress towards equality, failing to recognize the grave threat racism poses to their livelihoods as people of color. Unfortunately, whether it manifests itself as higher socioeconomic status, elevated expectations of achievement, or subconscious biases developed against those also considered Black, privilege blinds many to the inescapable truth that racism and societys resultant discrimination of BIPOC, ironically, does not discriminate.

Image Credit: Privilege is when you think something is not a problem because it is not a problem to you personally by Tony Webster is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0

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The Other Face of Privilege - Harvard Political Review