When researching for my book “Monster,” a conversation with a white lawyer who dedicated his time to pro bono work defending clients from underprivileged backgrounds struck me deeply. He explained the challenge wasn’t always locating witnesses, as often depicted in media. Instead, his struggle lay in making the jury see his clients as individuals, as human beings, rather than just “one of them.” This resonated profoundly with my own aspirations when writing about children growing up in inner cities. My aim was to bridge the gap of understanding, to ensure readers, and more importantly, these children themselves, recognized their inherent humanity. I wanted to convey that the promises and ideals of America were meant for them too, that they are not just included, but wanted within the fabric of this nation.
Years prior, while working in personnel at a transformer company, a hiring decision highlighted a similar, yet subtly different, form of prejudice. We were seeking a chemist, and two candidates emerged as equally qualified on paper: a young white man from St. John’s University and a black man from Grambling College (now Grambling State University). I suggested to the department head that both be given a practical assessment in the lab, allowing the chief chemist to make an informed final decision based on their abilities. His reaction was one of disbelief, as if I had proposed something utterly absurd. “You’re kidding me,” he retorted, “That black guy’s no chemist.”
Despite the clear qualifications detailed in the résumé, a palpable tension filled the room. Pressing my superior, I questioned the basis for his assumption that the Grambling candidate was inherently unqualified for the role. He mumbled indistinctly, eventually, and begrudgingly, agreeing to send both candidates for an interview with the chief chemist.
Initially, I categorized this as simple racism. However, upon deeper reflection, I realized it was more nuanced. It was indeed racism, but stemming from a place of limited experience. My white colleague had likely never encountered a black chemist, perhaps not a black engineer or doctor either. It became clear that hiring decisions were often swayed not solely by résumés and qualifications, but by our ingrained, often unconscious, preconceptions of what a successful candidate should embody. And the crucial question arose: Where Are these preconceived notions truly rooted? Where are we, as a society, developing these limiting perspectives that prevent us from seeing individuals for their potential and humanity?
