LOVELAND MAGAZINE

News and Events from the Loveland, Ohio Area

Without fear or favor
Since 2004

Tag: diversity

  • I felt the tears welling behind my eyes and willed them not to escape

    I felt the tears welling behind my eyes and willed them not to escape

    “There is value in having no child feel rejected and invisible in their own school. If I can help it, none of them will.“

    A story by a Loveland resident presented by Loveland Magazine in collaboration with the Loveland Diversity Advisory Board

    A sharp pain startled me. Something had pelted my head. Whatever it was ricocheted to the floor with a hollow plink. I rubbed the back of my skull and looked around trying to determine what had hit me. As I did, I took another sharp blow, this time to the cheek, followed again by a distinct plinking sound. The next shot hit my shoulder. Then my neck. Finally one of the projectiles flew past my face and I was able to identify what was being hurled toward me. 

    It was a penny. 

    I looked in the direction from which the projectiles originated and saw a lunch table of my fifth grade peers laughing, trying to look inconspicuous in the conspicuous way guilty ten year-olds have a tendency to do.

    “Did she pick them up?” one whispered.

    “Shhhhh! She’s looking over here,” the other said, waving his hand in the universal sign to keep it down.

    More giggles.

    x

    I sheepishly rubbed my cheek, which by now was smarting and red. I looked down at the floor where several pennies lay in a telltale scatter at my feet. 

    Another sharp pain.

    “Pick up the pennies, Jew,” someone from the table jeered, just loud enough for me to hear.

    I felt the tears welling behind my eyes and willed them not to escape. No one would see me cry. Despite my best intentions, a tear leaked out, betraying me as it rolled down my injured cheek. Its saltiness stung against the broken skin.  

    x

    The perpetrators weren’t the school’s “bad” kids. They weren’t the “troublemakers.” They weren’t the kids who wadded up the stiff brown paper towels, wet them, and threw them up on the bathroom ceiling where they’d stick and harden like cement. 

    These were the kids who raised their hands to read aloud from the social studies textbook when the teacher asked for volunteers.They attended PSR at the church down the street from my house where a giant tree sprouted pink blossoms each spring before dropping her petals in a sudden heap. These were the kids who, if I’d told a teacher, would elicit the response of ‘Well now that doesn’t sound like them. I’m sure they meant nothing by it. Have you tried ignoring it?’

    x

    The lone tear fell onto the lunch table, a solitary puddle on the faux wood facade. Pennies? What does that even mean? I pondered this question silently, focusing intently on the fallen tear to prevent more from spilling out. I felt ashamed and embarrassed. I never mentioned it again. 

    This was the first time it happened, but it wouldn’t be the last.  

    At ten years old, I didn’t understand the deeply anti-Semitic implications of these kids’ actions. As an adult, I know they picked up on these stereotypes somewhere. I feel confident that the hateful message was learned outside of school, however subtly transmitted. Maybe slips of the tongue by their parents. Maybe from the innuendos presented in the news channel their family watched. Maybe from friends whose families held biases. But what about what they learned–or didn’t learn–while they were in school? What was the message there?

    There was nary a mention of Jewish people in my elementary school. Despite a small population of Jewish students, the curriculum had settled into a comfortable rhythm they saw no need to update. I remember clearly how each year my teachers were startled when they learned that I didn’t have a Christmas tree. 

    “What do you mean?” my second grade teacher asked incredulously. “Everyone has a Christmas tree,”  And so it went. 

    x

    I accepted my lot early. I dutifully completed my “Letter to Santa” assignments each December prior to “Christmas Break” where I’d take home the ornament I had to make for my non-existent tree. In the spring, I mustered up fake gusto to color oil pastel Easter egg cut-outs. I completed the multiplication worksheets asking how much tinsel Jane needs to trim her Christmas tree and conducted the science experiments on decorating Easter eggs with various substances, bright red beet juice staining my hands for days. 

     The message coming from the school was clear: one specific religion was the universal norm. Obviously, I was different. That made me a target. 

    I share this with you to illustrate that representation matters. While some may disagree, they are likely the ones who have never been in a situation where they were the “other.”

    Representation doesn’t mean anyone has to alter their own convictions or feel put on the defensive. It doesn’t mean one side is right and the other is wrong, that there’s a hidden agenda, or that any one lifestyle is being attacked. 

    What it does do is allow students to learn that the world is full of people whose beliefs, values, and opinions differ from their own. It means the students who aren’t part of the status quo feel a sense of belonging. At its best, it fosters mutual understanding and civility. Representation neither promotes one lifestyle, race, or religion, nor detracts from another. All representation does is to allow students to see that there are different ways of being and that there is validity in who we ALL are. 

    x

    While I cannot change my school experience, we owe it to our own kids the opportunity to explore diversity through equal and prominent representation. If you’re a minority, there is value in seeing someone like yourself; if you’re in the majority, there is value in seeing that there’s an actual living, feeling human being behind the label. Most importantly, there is value in having no child feel rejected and invisible in their own school. If I can help it, none of them will.

  • Residents urge BOE to form a Diversity Advisory Board

    Residents urge BOE to form a Diversity Advisory Board

    This statement was delivered by Leah Marcus at the Loveland Board of Education Meeting on 9/22/2020 on behalf of John Coburn, Julie Gebhart, Leah Marcus, Jennifer Shaftel, and Molly Simons, representing the Loveland Diversity Advisory Board (DAB) and the voices of their supporters in the Loveland Community.

    by Leah Marcus

    At the Loveland Board of Education Meeting on 9/22/2020 a group of community members, identifying as the Loveland Diversity Advisory Board made initial requests regarding the need to implement a Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion initiative within the School District. The statements delivered by community members are below:

    “As a part of the Diversity Advisory Board, I want to thank the Loveland Board of Education for hearing me today. This is a new group that started in the Loveland Area recently and our request is that there be an Advisory Board that looks at Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion concerns in our community, and more so, in our Loveland City School District. This effort would consist of school administrators working with the Advisory Board to talk and try to resolve some of these issues.

    I want to take a little bit of time to talk about my experiences in Loveland. I have lived here for six years and I want to talk about some things that have happened to me.

    One thing, when my wife and I first moved in, a neighbor asked my wife if we were the new neighbors.

    “Yes, we are the new neighbors.”

    “Oh, I will come by and ​see​ you.”

    I can’t tell you who that neighbor is.

    I have another neighbor. We just don’t talk. He doesn’t talk to me. I have said “Hi” to him, but we just don’t talk. He talks to the other neighbors-just not, to me.

    I have been at a stoplight here recently and I was called a “Nigger” when someone rolled their window down and felt like that was appropriate to do.

    There was another time that I was at a meeting, here in a Loveland school building, and I walked out with a couple of parents. We got lost in the building and we ended up going down a dark hallway. A community person walked up and said, “Oh, you’re used to being in dark places.”

    I think about that, and I think about the community where I grew up.

    I grew up in a community called Webster Groves, Missouri. I don’t know if anyone is familiar with that place, but it has similar demographics to what we have here, but we had a sense of belonging. Which I don’t necessarily feel here.

    This was in the 1970s, so Whites and Blacks got along. We talked to each other. We went to each other’s homes. We ate dinner together. We got to know each other, our parents got to know each other, and I don’t feel that sense of community here.

    Now don’t get me wrong, there are some wonderful things here in Loveland. There are wonderful things to do. I have met some wonderful people, but I am just saying that I don’t feel that.

    So when I think about my experiences I realize that I live in Loveland, but I work outside of Loveland. My church is outside of Loveland and my friends are outside of Loveland. I think about the kids that are in this environment every single day and I am wondering what data we are using to talk to the kids about their experiences that are here in the schools every single day.

    And again, I am just starting to become engaged in this environment. So let’s think about the long term ramifications of not having a Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion initiative.

    I am big on just reading my bible, and I pulled out a verse that says, “Whoever does not love their brother and sister, whom they have seen, cannot love G-d, whom they have not seen” (1 John 4:20). So what are those long-term ramifications and what are we teaching our kids? What kind of legacy are we leaving them? What if we don’t teach them that it is okay to engage with people who don’t look like them, whether it be someone who has special needs, or someone who identifies as LGBTQ, or someone who is Black or Brown?

    What kind of legacy are we leaving our children if we don’t say it is okay to engage with others that don’t look like you?​

    We are here tonight representing a diverse group of LCSD parents and community stakeholders to respectfully request the district’s action on two proposed initiatives:

    First

    We respectfully request that the District support a resolution to form a Diversity Advisory Board.

    Second

    We ask that the Board of Education facilitate a relationship between this group and school building administrators, so that a formal plan to address issues related to diversity, equity, and inclusion, that is, DEI, can be established, with parent input, and implemented, in the schools.

    We acknowledge that conversations regarding inclusion and diversity are already happening in the community with great frequency, whether that be on social media, our local written media, in our private homes, or  public forums such as this summer’s organized Peace Walk.

    Beyond these events, parents in our district, including many here tonight, have been meeting informally to educate ourselves and to understand how we can better leverage community resources to support our schools when it comes to creating an inclusive learning environment that prepares all students to succeed in an increasingly diverse workforce and world.

    Although our district’s values indirectly point to a shared commitment for inclusive education, informal and indirect commitment is not enough to make inclusion a reality in our schools. Achieving inclusion requires intention, including formal structures for engaging parents, students, and staff in conversations about what is needed to achieve this reality.

    Educational institutions have long acknowledged DEI initiatives as essential components of Social-Emotional Curriculum. Loveland, however, has yet to implement a permanent and intentional diversity statement or initiative. In fact, Loveland is one of only a handful of local districts with absolutely no DEI initiatives to speak of. The following districts have long-established comprehensive DEI plans: Sycamore, Indian Hill, Lebanon, Wyoming, Mason, Madeira, Kings, Cincinnati Public, Mariemont, Northwest, Fairfield, Forest Hills, Princeton, and Lakota.

    Compared to our neighboring districts, Loveland seems to be falling behind in this regard. It is time for Loveland to formally commit to addressing these issues.

    Institutional support for Inclusion and Diversity efforts have been shown to have positive outcomes for all students, including benefiting students’ critical thinking, decision making and cognitive skills, student success and engagement, as well as fostering a sense of belonging. On the flip-side, lack of DEI plans has been shown to result in hostile school and community environments, a lack of cohesion and consistency in dealing with district DEI issues, and, in some cases, costly lawsuits.

    Our Loveland Tigers do not want to be defined by a negative community incident, when we could be defined by the innovative, diverse leaders we educate in our district.

    Here, we present to you our proposal, along with letters from parents and community stakeholders who would like to see these initiatives come to fruition.”

    John Coburn, Julie Gebhart, Leah Marcus, Jennifer Shaftel, and Molly Simons, representing the Loveland Diversity Advisory Board (DAB) and the voices of our supporters in the Loveland Community.

  • Have you been social distancing from Black Americans?

    Have you been social distancing from Black Americans?

    by Eric Armstrong

    Hello Loveland friends – I really hope if you read this first sentence and find the time to read these next several paragraphs. It’s lengthy but I think it’s important.

    Since graduating from Loveland High School in 1998, Eric Armstrong obtained degrees in Chemical Engineering and Spanish from Purdue University. When not working in technical sales; he enjoys traveling the world in his free time.

     

    Systemic racial inequality, prejudice, ‘White Privilege’, are tough topics, powerful words. I imagine white people; are uncomfortable when they hear them, feel defensive when directed towards them, and I think most importantly are confused about what to do about them.

    You see racists are easy to identify and label, they wear hoods, yell slurs, and burn crosses. Racists don’t hide their disdain, they’re proud of it, and most importantly I imagine 90% of White Americans can say unequivocally “I’m not a racist, that’s not me!” “My family raised us to…”, “I have very close ____ friends.” etc…

    Other words, however, are harder to define

    The other words however are harder to define; they are subtle, woven into our nation’s very fabric, everyday behavior, and actions. Unfortunately, our country was built and founded on them. In their most basic forms, even Black Americans can struggle to explain them, it’s often an uneasy feeling or a story, the way you were treated. It’s some simple task that Black Americans worry about that would never cross the mind of a white person.

    A profound ignorance exists in education

    Moreover, IF you as a White American can comprehend the definitions and give examples of these words, then you’d realize 100% of White Americans have existed/participated/enabled them. That’s honestly what is at the core of everything happening today. A profound ignorance exists and the cure is education, open dialogue, and a paradigm shift in how we respond.

    I personally haven’t said much about what’s happened recently about the rash of killings locally here in Indianapolis or across the country. I’ve admittedly deflected and given short PC answers. There are two reasons and they are shared by many Black Americans;

    1) It reopens painful feelings and emotional wounds, and if you’re a Black American who has existed as I have (fairly comfortably) it’s a jarring reminder of what could happen to you and your friends, family, and colleagues.

    2) It’s exhausting. If you know me, I enjoy talking and pushing the boundaries of comfort on many topics. I don’t shy away from talking about race if engaged and I try to keep the conversation light so I’m approachable and those who truly want to understand, learn and change have a safe place to do so. However, for every one of those interactions, there are 20 other conversations, comments, posts, when White American dismiss Black Americans’ experiences as “one-off occurrences” or say “why do you make everything about race. It isn’t always about race.” Or “Well if “______Black American” wasn’t doing _____, _____ wouldn’t have happened.”

    Something different is happening now

    So admittedly, lazily, embarrassingly, I felt like this latest response was going to be the US status quo. People get fake mad, they post “Black Lives Matter” and are upset for a while, some Black Americans protest and march, then in a couple months things/people go back to ‘normal’.

    But I decided to write this because something different is happening. White Americans are out marching too, they’re verbalizing the issues and not just repeating buzz words. Most importantly they’re engaging us. They’re messaging me, texting me and asking me to have conversations. They’re asking me what those confusing words mean to ME, asking what my experience has been.

    A business colleague who I consider a friend sent me this;

    “Weird non-work related question. Would you be interested in coming to our house for dinner in the next two weeks? No need to answer tonight. The bigger human conversation is that our kids need to meet people who don’t look like them.”

    WOW.

    Maybe it WILL be different this time…

    Because if everyone wants to know how we “fix things” how we “make it better”. That’s it in a nutshell. White Americans must willingly have a lot of introspection, ask questions of themselves and Black Americans, and state the following:

    “I acknowledge that though I’m not a racist; I’m ignorant, uninformed, and contributing to prejudice, systemic racism, and white privilege with my inactivity. My posts and words are NOT enough.”

    How do you know you are contributing to this climate?

    What are the questions? How do you know you are contributing to this climate?

    If as a White American you’ve ever posted or said, “Skin color doesn’t matter to me.” or “I don’t see race.” Unless you are actually visually impaired; you’re saying (whether you intend to) I’m not recognizing that because your skin is brown, your experience in this world has been markedly different than mine.

    It must be acknowledged that race is a factor, a variable in a human’s life experience and reactions, questions, interactions, must be adjusted.

    Change your language to take that into account, instead say, “I actively try not to let my inherent biases and ignorances negatively impact how I interact with Black Americans.” SEE COLOR, VALUE DIFFERENCES.

    If as a White American you’ve called something ‘ghetto’ or used the word as an adjective to associate things with Black Americans. I compare it with how people use the word ‘gay’ to describe something they dislike.

    Or you’ve said “_____ doesn’t act black” or “_____ isn’t really even black.” Your words mean you believe they exhibit positive characteristics ascribed to White Americans.

    Other behavior

    How about these? You have many black friends and co-workers… right? Have you been to their homes or invited them to yours? Do you vacation with them? Have these conversations with them?

    It may not be how you treat those Black American friends and colleagues. How do you interact with the Black Americans who are strangers? Do you strike up conversations? Do you avoid sitting by them, cross the street, wait for the next elevator…?

    I have seen a lot of this world and our country and I’ve been invited into the homes of strangers internationally and never to the homes of some of my ‘friends’ here in the US.

    My Christian friends; do you attend diverse church services? What does your congregation look like? God valued/preaches inclusion and diversity but why is the church segregated?

    How about the neighborhood where you live? Any Black neighbors? Do your kids have Black American classmates? Do Black American kids play with your kids at your home and vice versa? If you say “No, there just aren’t Black Americans where I live. I live there because it’s safe and has good schools.” Well if there are no Black Americans there; are they in the underperforming schools and unsafe neighborhoods? The separate but equal ones?

    You have to ask why is that?

    If you asked your kids who are three Black Americans they know? Are they all celebrities/athletes? Do you go to businesses, concerts, read books, and see movies by Black Americans? You have to ask why is that? Who/what experiences are you exposing yourself and family to or limiting them from becoming educated about?

    Racist people are not the problem – I call it arms length prejudice

    Again, the racist people are not the problem. We know where they stand and what they believe. It’s the tolerant White Americans, the ones that have casually existed with Black Americans. I call it arms length prejudice. You have been fine with Black people having equal rights as long as it doesn’t change your world, come into your neighborhood, school, or church. As long as it doesn’t date your sons and daughters.

    Have you been social distancing from Black Americans?

    Have you been social distancing from Black Americans? You have to ask yourself have you been perpetuating that arm’s length distance whether subconsciously or consciously? Do you want things to change? Do you really care about the Black friend(s) or those Black strangers that you post black squares and Black lives matter hashtags about? It’s going to take more than posts and rhetoric. If you care about Black Americans but stand by while prejudiced comments are being spoken or ‘posted’ then it won’t change.

    If it’s tolerated by our leaders and business owners as them just “speaking their mind” or “telling it how it is” then you are supporting their harmful rhetoric.

    Our young humans

    Many of you are currently raising the young humans who will determine how Black Americans are treated in the next 20 to 40 years and beyond. If you change their experiences and relationships with Black Americans you will change the behaviors and outcomes. Posts, black squares, and words are fantastic; education, action, and follow up are better.

    It’s time for conversations

    Marching and demonstrating serves only to keep the issue in front of people’s minds. The actual work is done right here with us having the conversations and listening. Calling people out, calling yourself out. A lot of people want to be healthy, but don’t want to exercise. I see the same behavior with race. A lot of White Americans want the conversations about race to stop, for the problems to go away, but they don’t want to do the hard work to get us there.

    A lot of people want to be healthy, but don’t want to exercise.

    It’s time for these conversations. For White Americans to ask your friends of color about the first time they were called the n-word or were pulled over/followed for no reason?

    These conversations that must be had between Blacks and Whites are going to be uncomfortable they’re going bring upon Whites feelings of guilt and shame and often times Blacks may be embarrassed or angry, not at you, about their struggle; but it’s an important step in healing and understanding.

    Conversations can start today

    Lastly, both Blacks and Whites must understand that changing a behavior takes a long time. Some people estimate it takes 10,000 hours of doing a task to master it. How many hours have you and your children spent discussing, interacting, and educating yourself about Black Americans? Black Americans, how many conversations have you opened yourself up to with White Americans? This is not going to happen overnight…but the conversations can start today.

    I LOVE YOU ALL & GOD BLESS

    Eric Armstrong graduated from Loveland High School in 1998

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