World Outside my Window

Wednesday, October 26, 2005

A Struggle with Ourselves

For a week from the ceiling of Cleveland’s foremost Jesuit preparatory high school’s student atrium, hung signs emblazoned with words like “homo”, “slut”, “retard”, “Jew” complemented with a swastika, and even the dreaded “N”-word. The display was intended to spark discussion throughout the halls of the all-boys, predominantly Caucasian institution about cultural awareness and the power of language. The lesson is a powerful one, and an important discussion to have in a learning environment where privilege is abundant and ignorance of the outside world is almost tangible. But questions arise as to whether this was the most proper way to teach this lesson, or if offensive materials were just made public without purpose or merit. Because while the immediate effects resulted in homeroom conversations, all-school debates, and a buzz of newfound social conscience and consciousness; what remains true is that St. Ignatius High School’s student body is comprised of only about 10% racial minorities. The conversation is an important one to have, but it bears no fruit if the participants never step outside of the secure gates and engage those whom they are talking about.

This goes beyond one school, and applies to the city and its surrounding areas as a whole. Northeast Ohio is incredibly diverse in its population, but is a region of segregated sects, where one can travel from neighborhood to neighborhood, and know exactly what to expect the people living there to look like. Hispanics and Cambodians live west of the river, Chinese and Eastern Europeans find pockets on the opposite side, the remainder of the Eastside is dominated by the black community, and the rest of the Westside is filled in with your standard population of “Americans” (white people). Clevelanders are perfectly content with this arrangement. While in New York and similar giant Metropolises, the city is so big and there are so many different kinds of people that you cannot help but interact with those who don’t look like you on a daily basis; be it at work, on the subway, or in the park. In Cleveland though, people know where they belong, and they stay there. That’s part of the reason why it’s so difficult repopulating the city, and why suburbs like Lyndhurst and Westlake are so eager to build a Legacy Village or a Crocker Park, so that their citizens can find big-city amenities without having to deal with such things as diversity and, let’s face it, black people.

Northeast Ohio does an exceptional job at dwelling upon its own diversity, focusing upon people’s differences and cultivating the fear of the unknown. And even when given a reason to come together, such as a winning ballclub, what are we really cheering for and supporting?


And for those who do not believe that Chief Wahoo is a problem, Oscar Arredondo, an Aztec artist and activist, wants you to ponder these images for a while.


Rosa Parks died this past Monday evening at the age of 92. She was one of the last indelible symbols of a time gone by, when equality was a cause to be fought for, and an issue necessary to address. In Cleveland though, we’ve forgotten those who have died in the struggle, and that injustice cannot be tolerated if all are to be free. Rather, we live timidly in the shadow of a fragile economy, and in fear of the invisible threat that we pose to each other.

Racism, homophobia, sexism, ageism and every other –ism out there are definite realities in our world, and in this city. And we can discuss them, we can deny them, and we can be disgusted at the pains that they cause; but we will never get anywhere unless we extend ourselves as individuals and unite this city as Clevelanders. Language is indeed powerful, and it is commendable for high school students to want to address these issues. But the best way to not discriminate against an entire people, regardless of how they are “different”, is still to simply be a part of each others' experience. Rosa Parks has left this earth, but her cause still lingers here. And we are the ones who have to continue her struggle, for the benefit of all. The fight is not over, and we must never believe that it is.

Rest well Miss Parks. You’ve done your part…